she crossed this morning
a busy city street
rather absent minded
unstable on her feet
to me she looked
like a desperate queen
dreaming of a prince
she had not yet seen
I offered her a helping hand
safety first
she did not understand
I saw her turn into another street
a little later
still unstable on her feet
a smile on her face
unable to forget
the newspaper came
the lady now is dead
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fate
Last edited by amaryn; 05-23-2013 at 12:19 AM.
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I sought a place where silence would be
something imminent nearby the sea
mistaken though i turned away
I heard waves roar throughout the day
i tried my luck down a shady lane
but dogs disturbed the peace again
i sat on a bench in a park at last
but every minute a jogger passed
in church restless tourists whispered loud
a stream of people, in and out
I took a book and stayed at home
I realized then- I was alone
c: amaryn 2013Last edited by amaryn; 05-23-2013 at 08:00 AM.
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awkward memory
she was wicked when she talked
she was wicked when she walked
she was trying to bend my thoughts
into her world
she was desperate to see
if she could make a slave of me
dominate me while I wanted to be free
she said that she was a friend
I just had to understand
that what I thought didnot count
that's what she meant
she knew all what I should do
sure I didnot have a clue?
"I know just the kind of girl
that's good for you"
though she hoped she would succeed
she didnot, as I did meet
friends who she rejected from the start
I moved out, went my own way
she regretted 'till this day
I decided to listen closely
to my heart
c: amaryn 2013Last edited by amaryn; 05-24-2013 at 08:58 AM.
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@fate and Awkward Memory both great little "writes"!!I keep reading as long as you keep posting;deal!
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you're a faithful visitor, Doug, and it's appreciated! Thanks again
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AMARYN, QUESTION: How do you keep your poetry going at such a steady pace? It seems I am prolific when in (or fighting) depression. Otherwise, basically nil.
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Well, Frankie, I am an observer seeking often moments of rest to go through what happens inside me and around me, including - sometimes-
problems and happenings which affect the whole world. I am restless if I don't put myfeelings into words basically constantly.
You are also an observer, but you obviously like to do it in a different way.
I understand also that you tremendously enjoy life right now and I hope that you won't have to go through depressions at all.
But though you have become a more Rare Bird here on ATL I appreciate your opinions nonentheless always when you're ready for it -
reflections
red, passion flowers in far away fields
tapestries trampled upon during festivals
black, the shadow of Hades
smogcoated houses of industrial towns
yellow, ripened fruit decorating tables
an always attentive moon
even during nights without romance -
I see that speaking in Deutschland inspired you :P
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blue, resting somewhere high
in the lap of the azure sky
the eyes of blonde girls catching too
your full attention coloured blue -
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Thanks Doug. Much obliged.
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moments
she was sitting in a garden
near a luscious apple tree
sunglasses hiding expressions
though she seemed to look at me
invitations, body language,
of all that I was aware
but the scent of summerlotions
was what made me really care -
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tattoos on her skin and high heels
shiny handbag, giggling loud
decibels destroying answers
she anyway didn't mind about
make up made for invitations
from all kinds of silly men
giving her the first sensation
of too much sun, a nasty tan
sometimes shedding tears of sorrow
for something stupid she had done
but always ready for tomorrow
another day, another sun
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A couple of these lines could've fit right into my Thift Shop Lady song.That being said......good effort.Again,with a little imagination,this too could be a song.In the style of Rolling Stones Aftermath(high praise!)
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wishfull thinking
shall he proceed
to walk on the water
with two magic feet?
or just melt away
become part of the sky
at the end of the day
he may give it a try -
amaryn one of these days soon i'll get caught up on his whole thread. This is really great......
Chernobyl....history.....ty my friend. Chernyj/chernaya/cherno=black. The black summer of 1986.Music is what feelings sound like
Listen to the Love
~♥♥~