Eyes Like Heavy Rain

Feelin’ a little nostalgic

Feelin’ pretty crazed

Feelin’ a little lethargic

Feelin’ pretty dazed

Got me thinkin’ about eyes like John Wayne

While I’m starin’ with my sight glazed

Cause standin’ here in this November rain

Reminds me of what it was like with you babe

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Loop 47

Hey, my name is Yet Another Face

But you’ve probably seen me around before.

You probably don’t remember, but we met the other day

Briefly, I know, I’m a middle child, I’m used to it

I get it if you’ve already forgotten.

I have a good memory

Perhaps you’ll remember if I tell you what you were wearing?

Pastel plaid, jeans and Keds.

Perhaps you’ll remember if I tell you who introduced us?

Twice, we were introduced twice before.

That’s alright, it’s not your fault that you’ve forgotten.

I have a good memory

I remember things that happen around me

I know who you are and what you do,

Even though we may have never chatted much in person.

I know where he sits in chapel,

I know what she likes to express in class,

I know when you like to go up to the cafeteria;

It’s alright, seriously, it’s not your fault that you’ve forgotten.

I have a good memory

It’s pretty weird how good it is

I feel like I know everyone, but I only know one.

Myself; I know myself, I think.

Perhaps you’ll allow me to know you too,

Then I’ll at least know you and me,

Unless we meet again tomorrow and I’ll be forgotten-

I have a good memory,

Haha, I’m sorry, about that before

It’s getting ahead of me again

Don’t worry, it’s not your fault for forgetting,

But my fault for remembering.

 

Thousand Year Crane

Crane in NYC

A piece of nature,

Seemingly out of place in this city

Where dreams are made,

Where concrete is the only jungle present,

Where memories are layered on top of endless nostalgia,

Where hearts are broken as a part of a city-wide past time,

Where secrets continue to be secret long after death,

Where each story is the same as the one that came before it,

Yet remain unique to each individual that tells it,

Since this city is actually a small town in reality;

Even this bird may be a crane in disguise,

Secretly building its own future as it

Knows that its migratory stop here

Will not change for another thousand years.

Wholly

Is it possible, to pour oneself into another

As a vessel that just keeps flowing and giving:

Slowly tilting till the mouth is straight,

Parallel to where the bottom once was,

Only then to realize that you’re now empty?

 

Yes, now I realize that things don’t work that way,

You can’t give yourself unconditionally

And expect to remain wholly same.

Sepulchre of Snow

VirginiaPoe

In the night I hither and thither

In hopes of growing fonder

Of the darkness that I do wander

With desires to grow accustomed

To the situation of “My Grief”

 

These city’s street lights love

To play tricks with my shadow

It waxes and then grows narrow

With the additional company

Of those watching “My Grief”

 

The snow banks ever upward

Threatening to upon me spiral

I downward struggle in denial

In a blunder to reunite

Postmortem with “My Grief”

 

The stone tablets project themselves

Through a temporary layer

Another burden they must bear

Although they remain quiet

Respectfully silent for “My Grief”

 

I find the sepulchre to which

I am most unwillingly familiar

Finally I sit down near her

Once again love is reunited

Passionately freezing “My Grief”

To Haha はは

I’m penniless

On my knees

Bones bout to break

Panting, wheezing

Time fading away

It’s hopeless, useless

No reason to keep

On living if this is

The only way

.

.

.

But then you come

You were there for me

Before anyone knew my beginning

You carried me

Nursed me to strength

Clothed and fed me

When I had nothing to give

You gave me reasons and purposes

To continue to live

.

.

.

Thank you Haha,

For giving me everything

And expecting nothing

In return