20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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A Tale of Two Losses

ImageI have lost a child, a teen with his life and future ahead of him.
It broke me-my body, soul and spirit.
And then there was you-mom.
When my son, I lost what I dreamed of,
With you, I lost the chance to really know you.
You were private, you kept things to yourself.
You had just began to tell me the things
that made you who you were-
I keep thinking that if you had told me, sooner,
it would have saved me so much pain.
Never-I loathe that word. Never again.
Today I put flowers on two graves -yours and his.
I am sickened by what my life has become.
It has never been as I dreamed,
And often been nearly unbearable.
It seems others take loss and go on with life.
I don’t understand it and never will.
How can others go on with what made life a joy?
When I am  forced to exist without what made me live at all.

 


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Image

This poem is not for my precious son, whose death
took everything from me that I hung on to, believed in.
It is for those who can’t  see that I am still here.
but I have been forced to live in a world where there
is not glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m so tired of it all, so tired of the lies.
The further I fall, the higher you rise.

It takes all I have, each moment I try,
I give and I give, till I think I will die.

I’m sorry that I was never enough,
My heart is long dead, the road’s been so rough.

All that I have, I have given to you.
And what have I left?  No joy and no you.

Just leave me here in my prison, my home,
Cause when you are here, I still feel alone.

Not a thing I’ve endured, suffered, survived.
Has helped you to notice,  that I’m still alive.

I still feel, I still hope, I still love, I still try.
Somehow through the darkness, I still survive.

Take just one heartbeat, one touch, one breath,
And remember I will love you till nothing is left.


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Prompt a Day Month (prompt #8): a journey

Reblogged from Shoreline Cluster Poets:

For today's prompt, I want you to write about a journey, preferably a personal one, but fictional is fine too.  Imagine a journey that could take place in the future (like to a distant star or planet), or one that happened in the past (yes, I am reflecting on Columbus Day, and thinking how crazy it must have been to just sail and hope to find land).

Read more… 15 more words

so late I can't do this justice but maybe one of YOU CAN :)


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Hurt That Lingers

There is a hurt that lingers

So deep within my soul

It’s like I’m holding on to it

Without it…don’t feel whole

~~~

I know I’ve been forgiven

For wrongs that I have done

And those done me by others

I’ve forgiven every one

~~~

So now I’m letting go today

Of sorrow that I feel

Unnecessary sorrow

So these wounds may fin’lly heal

~~~

Please help me not to look at them…

To leave them all alone

Except just for recalling them

As if a stepping stone

~~~

I pray the smile upon my face

Be genuine and real

Not just disguising pain and hurt

That deep inside I feel

~~~

I am not ruled by feelings

Though feel them, I will do

While resting in your mercy and

Your love so deep and true.


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Winter’s Nocturnes – A Sestina

He sits down.

Melodies unfurl with a twitch, a light trill,
And the man leans back, savouring every note
Cloaked in black, and stained with tears,
Winter’s gifts a forgotten sight. Under the stars,
He bows his head, straightens his back, and the haunting
Begins. He slams on the piano keys, sorrow a dark cloud.

He remembers lying down, watching the clouds,
He remembers the chirping birds’ magnificent trill,
He remembers her – her bright green eyes haunting
His own. Her hand, knotted
With his. He remembers lying down, watching the stars
As each twinkled, then faded, merely a tiny tear.

Yet her soulless body besieged his mind, tattered and torn.
Each passing bar, a doubtful cloud.
He sees not the stars.
He hears not the trill.
But only senses the funeral of the notes.
Like death angels chanting, dancing, haunting.

He plays to hunt
Her spirit, to guide her to fill the tear
In his heart. Each note
Forms her silhouette, dimly glowing against the black clouds,
Against the wintry mist. She smiles at each familiar trill,
Her eyes are gold, like the stars.

The music makes the fair moon and stars
Weep, for its haunting
Siren beseeches attention. Hark! Music flows like a rill,
As his fingers dance over the piano. Too abruptly, it stops. The air tears.
He hovers on the piano, like a cloud,
Contemplating. contemplating. contemplating. Too soon the notes

stop

for your reference:
Word 1: trill
Word 2: note
Word 3: tear
Word 4: star
Word 5: haunt
Word 6: cloud


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A Broken Umbrella

We’ll dance a waltz in the rain.
Let
the twirling raindrops breeze past us
And the lovely patters sing.

We’ll grow our roses in the rain.
Let
the soothing winds fondle our creation
And blooming petals rise.

We’ll spin our umbrellas in the rain.
Let
the vibrant colours splash the blue
And the silent promise ring –

Our love flows like the rain
A shower of wealth
Sparkles of effervescence

And the cold, cloying tang of pain.


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Of Beauty and of Sorrow Deep (a Rondel)

Of beauty, and of sorrow deep

A poet simply has to write

On cheerful day, or lonely night

The words inside, she cannot keep

~~~

Though smiles abound, or though she weep

She crafts her words and gives them light

Of beauty, and of sorrow deep

A poet simply has to write

~~~

Both wide awake, or fighting sleep

Though she may try to hold them tight

The thoughts inside, they just take flight

And to the page, the words do leap

Of beauty, and of sorrow deep


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Madness

Why is my heart filled with sadness?

Why do the tears fill my eyes?

I’m blessed, and so thankful

Your love and mercies consume me

But this world is full of so much sorrow

Not just in my own little space, but far beyond.

I try not to be sad when I hear of the senseless killings

And all the crimes big and small

That daily affect some that I know

And some that I’ll never know

My life goes on, filled with joys and disappointments

Laughter and tears will come and go

Like a see saw…ups and downs

I feel for others who are hurting

I want to get off the see saw, close my eyes,

And let your light illuminate my closed eyelids

But I will stay until you call my name

And say it’s time to go home.

I will not fear the madness that surrounds

I will rest in the knowledge of your love.


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Grey III (Fragment)

Large heavy clouds overhead
seem pregnant with sorrow.
That thought clings to her
like fog to the eave of a house,
she pulls her depression
around herself a little tighter.

***

(Author’s note:  It was VERY hard to follow A Rambling Poet’s gorgeous spring colors with this bit of grey.  It was in my head when I got here and so here it be.  

… I guess that’s spring for you,
flowers and rain, blooms and drear.

Love your colors, A.R. Poet.  – Melissa)

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