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Literature Text
I found a time machine
of this I must be sure
or something near enough
to allow me
a few more moments of happiness.
I found a time machine
of this I must hope
else my bed has played
a cruel trick on me.
I found a time machine
of this I believe
every time I close my eyes
I see you there beside me
your happy smile radiating
the joy you gave to me .
I found a time machine
this I know is true
and though it only lasts the night
disappearing once reality
decides to yet again curse me,
I want to find a way to keep you
to shelter you from the past
that stole you away
and return you to my future,
to my present,
to my heart.
I found a time machine
to give me what I can't let go
but it only works for me
of this I've come to know
so since I can't bring you
to the present where you belong
I stay in the past
relieving every smile
every tear
and every frown
until the time
my present finally accepts you.
Literature
Faults and Regrets
Words are but a loss
When your mind
Is on a wander
Dreaming,
Caressing fantasies -
Simple fables,
But do we ever learn?
Love, hatred,
Contrast;
Muse.
We may win,
But we always
Lose.
Recover from mistakes
Repeat, repeat,
End -
Endless cycles
That are
To our routine
And yet,
What are words
But a loss
To wandering minds?
Where they go,
Where they hide -
What they see,
What they felt -
And our muse
Continues,
Always the same
Memory,
But always
A different
Time ~
Literature
Secondhand Moonlight
A dingy harem, scattered with junkies,
Stinking of lust and dusty Forget-Me-Nots
A black-veiled, crimson-lipped beauty
Night-haired and spacey-eyed
Purple painted nails laced with cigarette smoke
And a stubby cigarette laced with moonlight
Skulks to my side and burns a hand on my thigh
Age is creeping up her legs
And her panties smell of other men
And a bold-faced tattoo of last month's rent
Is stamped across her feverish forehead
Paper-thin desperation and two mouths to feed with a top hat on top
But the champagne tastes like honey and smells like jazz
You want to dance, Baby Girl?
So I jive with the Shadows and their Whores
Choking o
Literature
Just Pull the Trigger
This pain I feel inside,
It comes from no wounds.
This pain I feel I've died,
Don't leave me in this room...
I am surrounded by the walls-
And my cage grows tighter.
I pick up cigarettes and crawl,
As I search for my lighter.
Holding flames that I cup,
In these hands so bitter.
I take that first of puffs;
With a swill of liquor.
I have sunk to the bottom.
I'm dreaming of the moment I-
Will break the surface and see the sun.
But sadly I am done...
So let's go play with the gun!
Click-click, click-click
And load, just pull the trigger!
Click-click, click-click,
And load, let the gun smoke linger!
- Word of Chen, 13th May 2014
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Comments5
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I lost a friend almost a year ago and this poem greatly describes how I wish I could sleep and dream all the time because then I can be with him and how I haven't fully accepted the fact that he is gone. Thank you for writing this!