my most recent one
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more." , Alfred Lord Tennyson
I picture me and her on a mountain, in some reverie, wild and free
Laughing and joking, smoking, drinking our worries away.
Her timeless beauty, the way she moved and melted, they captivated me
And If I sinned, gladly for her the price I would pay.
She stood at the edge of the mountain reciting heartfelt poems
And her eyes were shining with unbridled, honest joy.
My mind was blown, deprived of worries, anxieties and problems
As she kissed my mouth and tenderly called me her little boy.
Her memory is one of those that rejuvenate in the summer
When the smell of the sea and the grains of the sand form her pretty face
These times I'd drink and wake up lonely and desperate the morning after
Helplessly looking for this girl that inspired in me so many tales.
And as much as I've tried to lead this girl astray
From my fingers she slipped like a careless sun ray
Who would imagine that this girl would go away!
Part two
"I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here...", Nine Inch Nails, 'Hurt'
I saw her again, on a cold winter night
When my heart was frozen and my feelings were numb
Her eyes pierced me, full of sadness and fright
As I looked at her with signs of some once powerful love.
She looked cold and her eyes were shining no more
And her smile was gone and her voice
Like a little girl that made a wrong choice
Was barely heard any more.
"Where is my little girl gone?" I asked her gloomily.
Expecting a careless, happy, pretty response
With a wild and excruciating force
She replied to me somewhat crudely:
"Who are you, what do you want, why do you talk to me?"
Shocked by her attitude towards her little boy, me
I told her if she remembered those hot August nights.
When I'd hold her tight and let her sleep in my hands
And she'd whisper to me "I hope this never ends".
She waved negatively, and I tried to grab her hand
Only to see wounds, painfully red.
All her fears and insecurities, dreadfully fed
To the demon that escaped his lair under the bed.
I looked her in the eyes, that were blank, sad and mad
Tried to speak a word of love, but my mouth went numb
If I kissed her, she wouldn't remember
If I loved her, she wouldn't know
If I sang her songs, she wouldn't hear
She is long gone, a memory dimly lit.
And all the poems she recited play in my mind
Like a song that hasn't died of the typhoon of time
And I hear him say "For thine is life"
Then, why do I feel this strange impulse to die?
Part Three
"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead." , Walt Whitman
A few months later, as I lay in bed
With a couple of diverse poems tangling in my head
I heard her name on the noisy TV
Clear and free, excruciatingly clean
"Emma Lee, a young beautiful girl was found dead
In an alley, after a heroin overdose.
She was a 20-year-old student..."
What shall I do now? Help me! I'm lost in dismay
How can I live with the fact that I won't see her someday
Smiling to me, singing songs, playing in the sand with my hair
Reciting poems and crying for things she wished she hasn't said
Drinking with me, emptying the bottle and dance in the moonlight
Embrace the sky with her hands, longing to fly like a kite?
How can I live while dying of so much torturing pain?
How can I live while my girl has silently gone away?
Poetry by Eva
Read 1333 times
Written on 2012-02-22 at 20:02
Tags Death Pain Drugs
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The Girl who went away
Part One"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more." , Alfred Lord Tennyson
I picture me and her on a mountain, in some reverie, wild and free
Laughing and joking, smoking, drinking our worries away.
Her timeless beauty, the way she moved and melted, they captivated me
And If I sinned, gladly for her the price I would pay.
She stood at the edge of the mountain reciting heartfelt poems
And her eyes were shining with unbridled, honest joy.
My mind was blown, deprived of worries, anxieties and problems
As she kissed my mouth and tenderly called me her little boy.
Her memory is one of those that rejuvenate in the summer
When the smell of the sea and the grains of the sand form her pretty face
These times I'd drink and wake up lonely and desperate the morning after
Helplessly looking for this girl that inspired in me so many tales.
And as much as I've tried to lead this girl astray
From my fingers she slipped like a careless sun ray
Who would imagine that this girl would go away!
Part two
"I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here...", Nine Inch Nails, 'Hurt'
I saw her again, on a cold winter night
When my heart was frozen and my feelings were numb
Her eyes pierced me, full of sadness and fright
As I looked at her with signs of some once powerful love.
She looked cold and her eyes were shining no more
And her smile was gone and her voice
Like a little girl that made a wrong choice
Was barely heard any more.
"Where is my little girl gone?" I asked her gloomily.
Expecting a careless, happy, pretty response
With a wild and excruciating force
She replied to me somewhat crudely:
"Who are you, what do you want, why do you talk to me?"
Shocked by her attitude towards her little boy, me
I told her if she remembered those hot August nights.
When I'd hold her tight and let her sleep in my hands
And she'd whisper to me "I hope this never ends".
She waved negatively, and I tried to grab her hand
Only to see wounds, painfully red.
All her fears and insecurities, dreadfully fed
To the demon that escaped his lair under the bed.
I looked her in the eyes, that were blank, sad and mad
Tried to speak a word of love, but my mouth went numb
If I kissed her, she wouldn't remember
If I loved her, she wouldn't know
If I sang her songs, she wouldn't hear
She is long gone, a memory dimly lit.
And all the poems she recited play in my mind
Like a song that hasn't died of the typhoon of time
And I hear him say "For thine is life"
Then, why do I feel this strange impulse to die?
Part Three
"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead." , Walt Whitman
A few months later, as I lay in bed
With a couple of diverse poems tangling in my head
I heard her name on the noisy TV
Clear and free, excruciatingly clean
"Emma Lee, a young beautiful girl was found dead
In an alley, after a heroin overdose.
She was a 20-year-old student..."
What shall I do now? Help me! I'm lost in dismay
How can I live with the fact that I won't see her someday
Smiling to me, singing songs, playing in the sand with my hair
Reciting poems and crying for things she wished she hasn't said
Drinking with me, emptying the bottle and dance in the moonlight
Embrace the sky with her hands, longing to fly like a kite?
How can I live while dying of so much torturing pain?
How can I live while my girl has silently gone away?
Poetry by Eva
Read 1333 times
Written on 2012-02-22 at 20:02
Tags Death Pain Drugs
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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