Thursday, July 26, 2007

more fragments

I
The sadness leaks out at times
Like oil from a broken jar
The trickle becomes a stream
The stream will be a flood
The memories I have of us
Escape from their prison at times
And I remember when I’d rather forget…
Tomorrow never came for us in the end
And I want to forget our yesterday.


II
We thought our love could move
the sun, the moon and the stars.
And that it will be constant…
Like the sun, the moon and the stars

But our love can only be as strong
As we ourselves are, it seems

In the end,
I was not strong enough to move
the sun, the moon and the stars.
And you were not constant,
like the sun, the moon or the stars


III
Chasing after the shadows
Looking for what will set me free.
In the strange little places…
In her eyes
In the books
In your touch
In my mind



I wonder why I put up these posts.
I am having that strange feeling again... That drifting, floating, restless feeling... I am not quite sure what I am thinking about. I only know that I am thinking. At least I think I am thinking... the poetry is old, the words are old, the feeling is old... make up a story for me...whoever you are.

6 comments:

omohemi Benson said...

hmm interesting piece.
lets see who steps up to this.

am still doing my homework concerning the other poem.
Yeah,I know its taking forever.

I hope you are good?

Chua said...

Coucou!!

pas mal, pas mal...!!

Je me demande si tu publieras un jour...?


A friend!

Olamild said...

Very nice poem....
I could come up with a story if u let me borrow the poem

omohemi Benson said...

After a hundred and one years,
I finally get to write a poem for your response,I will be waiting.

Hope you are good o!
Long time no read.

omohemi Benson said...

well done man.
nice response.

Noni Moss said...

I see a woman and a man reminiscing about their relationship.

It wasn't that great - they had some good times and really connected but then he started cheating on her and she tried for a long time to hold on regardless. He didn't mean to hurt her, he just couldn't help himself. She thought she could turn a blind eye, he always came home to her and he connected with her - all the rest were meaningless and by the way side. She thought her love for him would make him eventually stop.

He didn't and she did. They parted ways. Life moved on bringing other people and new expereinces. He still thinks about her knowing she will always carry a piece of him. She still thinks of him and feels that little tug. They still bump into each other, every now and then. They still think whimsically of what could have been.

Loll - ok I think I strayed a little off-topic and I'm possibly colouring it with my experiences but I started with good intentions ;-)

Like your poetry. Really like your style.