Poems about places



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№ 1203970

Rocks and Hard Places

I stand here, feeling alone.
My mind is a marathon
That doesn't even exist.
There is no finish line.
No rules;
No regulations.
I'm unclear as to where I stand
In the world.
(In this vast, unfamiliar world)
(It's dark here. )
I'm stuck between
A rock and
A hard place.

I've lost my rock.
I'm stuck in a hard place.


hard,  places,  rocks.

Author: Ophelia A
+0-
Date: 01/04/2020


№ 1202282

On stained glass and quiet places.

She always held herself with the dignity of having a thousand masterpieces hanging from her lips but She never let me stand close enough to hear them
She was good at speaking from a safe distance like that

And as I stood with my toes curled over the edge of loving, she peered down the cliff and asked me if the fall was worth the raging waters
She tried to teach me the difference between love affair and romance, unzipping each word telling me how some lies are still worth believing, when the truth is still to bitter to swallow whole.

She told me how the windchill can steal all the warmth right out of you, how it even leaves your mouth shivering and empty

I have written enough about it now to know you can see it in someones hands
I have written enough about it now to know you can taste it on someones words
And we stood there on that cliff until the whisper of dusk finally left our lips and my fingers began to turn blue

On the nights I woke up empty, she told me that the darkness swallows up light without even asking its name so don't you dare expect a roll call now. There is no welcome mat outside of 3am but we laid outside the door anyways and she let the sky paint me pictures

On the nights I woke up cold, she reminded me that hands are only as good as what you choose to hold on to, she always said there was some kind of art into weaving your hands into somebody else's. It was the one thing we agreed on.

She said I had a shimmer she couldnt trust just yet but on the night I couldn't read poetry she let me sit next her, she told me that the thing about people and metaphors is that we all need at little editing
And we could all use a little bit more work.


glass,  places,  quiet,  stained.

Author: Maria
+0-
Date: 31/03/2020

№ 1196734

The places behind our eyes

And thats where we'll live
In visions of orange skies
And lavender skin
Flashes of love in our eyes
The city fog rolling in


eyes,  places.

Author: Alana Fitzgerald
+0-
Date: 26/03/2020

№ 1193885

:(~.~): loudest places

Globe your many suns
With your smile,
My room is free
From whirling

Whenever alone, enter,
To these places, without a master.


loudest,  places.

Author: Dark Fjord
+0-
Date: 23/03/2020


№ 1193407

Happy Places

I got to my happy places. I like them. It makes me happy. The first one is a bookstore. I go around to look for something to catches my eye. I went down an aisle. Then I saw you. You looked at me. I saw a smile on your face. Then I got even more happier.
The second one is a pizza restaurant. I go to it for pizza. I looked around as I waited for my pizza. Then I saw you. You looked at me. I saw a smile on your face. Then I got even more happier. Then you came over and sat across from me. We smiled. "Hi, " I said.
"Hi, " you said. And I knew that I have a third reason to be happy. Because of you.


happy,  places.

Author: Richard Javier Martinez
+0-
Date: 22/03/2020

№ 1193011

New places

Now this place
Has the stains of my sadness


places.

Author: Stephen
+0-
Date: 22/03/2020


№ 1192329

Things and Places

The things that hold and the things that break.
The glue, the happiness, the grudge and the late
The words with worth that we wish we had said
Only to find that we lost them.
The places that scold and the places that teach
The smiles, the tears, the promise, and the deceit
The home we wish could have lasted forever
Because it's the world that has taught us its temporary.
The things we hear and the places we go have one thing in common.
Its the people that are there for those times and situations that we lean on and summon.
Those people cause smiles and tears all the same
And when they're gone you'll realize it was worth all the shame.
Those people have meaning and inspire your life Because of them you will grow, regardless of the strife.


places,  things.

Author: Jesse Howard Brown III
+0-
Date: 21/03/2020

№ 1191921

Places where you were and I scattered

Plaridel

Plainclothes this Saturday under the brusque heat – trees burlesque from shedding,
Ripping orchestra of motorcycle: this one – too blatant to perform, to shrunken to
Notice. What if I never reach you?

1. 1 Crossing

There is an unrelenting transaction of birds in the surest sky in the surest day.
I can hear the rumbling of thunder behind its natal. If when found, discard.
It is easier this way unless inclinations are definite: the trance is to come,
Shorthanded. Consider this day your being spared from.

2. Toll

I remember the identical traverse. It was when I was unsure of my birth. My father
Had recounted and numbered how many slopes and trundles along the way when homeward
Is turbulent, angled at such pace which could have given me another face. I have always
Found it impressive that a person can wait for too long and waste away in hours that seek
No relevance when the daily is diminished.

3. Balintawak

You said that behind the marketplace is a dense crowd scouring for loose change. You wanted to supply them all with your adequacy that was rife and deft for sure in the turn of your hand almost a finger-exercise: that is your skillset. It will rain soon but the heat refuses to decline. You thought of the cumbersome bodies washed away by flood, and how at times, you remember them being randomly stacked at your doorstep, eroded by some wave.

3. 1 EDSA

Space we have no need for want under a terminal day fully etched like unwanted visage making you remember something that was your flagrant disregard when asked about how
Your day went, about a miscarriage of justifications, at work when facing absurd hours wishing to break away from that was our common bond – the long and dreaded silence because it made us always question what are we doing? Who are you? What for? Knowing for sure when to being but to end, indeterminate.

4. Familiar curve underneath a vandalized lamppost

In the console you pressing, discarding gravity at some point, managing to draw your way into and submitting to not knowing how to get out of, sealing an immediate sepulcher. We borrowed minutes, ran like fugitives when asked. An external shadow an intrusion so we had to cease for a moment but in the depth of our silence, somehow continued.

5. Entry to your home

Perfumed your garage was with autumn, or vegetation you said was your aunt's prized possession. That it was my fault I did not turn you off as a switch is meant to be killed from the moment of discovery to dislimn the image and leave everything to study as specimen is meant to be dissected.

6. To go backwards*

The only way home to where you were and I, scattered


places,  scattered.

Author: Windsor I Guadalupe Jr
+0-
Date: 21/03/2020

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