Poetry Magazine featuring poetry, short stories and informative articles.
On the bank slender cattails reach out and
tall grasses with clouds of swirling insects bite the air.
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I was killed, once
Felt like the world in my hands
Like a bean sprout in a mud
A place I usually don’t hide.
I was killed, twice
Lived my childhood like a mouse
Gotta hide in the sunrise
I filled my treasure chest with cries.
I was killed, thrice
I haven’t even recognized
As if bullets are comrades
A silencer during the night sky.
I lost count with my deaths
A gigantic immortal beast inside
Devouring the peace I desperately built
Livin’ in a coffin ready to be buried.
With the unsteady heart and mind
İ decided to leave for a while
Look for a place to hide
A nest no one will find.
I found a place never been before
It’s quiet? I’m not sure
There are waves just like me
Seems unbothered, or I just thought it to be.
This haven turned into chaos
Didn’t know when it started
Being lost with time again
The cries are never spoken.
İt was a disaster finding this paradise
The soul wandered all the time
Seeking the light under the moonlight
Finding the shelter in the sunrise.
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I wish I could do something,
But loving love wasn’t
as easy as loving someone,
It had to be carefully done,
love was weak-hearted,
one anger stroke
and ways, it parted
a little hate snow
could cause an avalanche
because baby love isn’t someone
with whom you can play around,
and a little ignorance axe
can cut love’s whole branch,
so this time I let love leave,
but someday in my life, I believe,
love will return.
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I gave myself scars by loving you,
Your skeptic waves washed over my shore,
Where I played for years and years,
You planted seeds of doubt,
Deep into the corners of my mind,
As I walked like a ghost in the background,
Always fading away into the crowd,
Afraid of having the spotlight on me,
Afraid of someone picking apart my flaws,
So I went to bed at nights,
Thinking I was so flawed,
Nobody could love me,
Because on most days,
All I felt was your coldness,
Cutting my self worth into shreds,
As I silently withdrew into my shell,
Hurting, swallowing your words,
Into the deepest parts of my mind,
That I am flawed and unlovable.
But in all my years with you,
I never knew love this hard,
When I can stand in front of the mirror,
Count all my scars and smile,
And I promise this time,
I won’t pick on my scars again,
I won’t let them bleed,
Because now,
I know I love myself so tenderly,
None of my lovers never could,
Someday there may be somebody,
Who could love me the way I do,
Who could love who they are like I do now,
Until then,
This is me and my scars.
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Hang Out with Jason Mraz at His Home Studio on the Mranch
Freedom to tell my truth
With it I will change laws
I will make a difference in our justice system
I will expose its family court flaws
Judges not wanted
I write what I feel in words that are real
Only those who read with no judgment are wanted,
Cause I’m free to express every feeling and every word.
Freedom is great
What I choose to express,
You either do or can’t relate.
Judgment sometimes happens
But who cares, this is why freedom is great!
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Hang Out with Jason Mraz at His Home Studio on the Mranch
INSIDE my head all these thoughts I hide
inside my mind all these lies I design
telling myself this is the way of the world
it’s the way it’s been for generations
who are you
to question all
who are you
to break away to forge a path
don’t you know you will be pulled back
doctrine into the same regime
until your mind is brainwashed
to follow the cue like a human puppet
Still, the need to rebel lingers in my heart
with a smile on my face
I let the tendrils develop
until a time I can really break free
and be ME
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Hang Out with Jason Mraz at His Home Studio on the Mranch
I think you will remember today
the way you so strongly disagree that we will end,
eventually.
and I’m wishing I will be there to say it,
past the electricity we created
when our lips merged
and our eyes closed.
I told you.
you would leave
I told you we never know tomorrow, and that love is tragedy we simply can’t avoid.
I think you would also remember the magic we made so many evenings when the world around us shook her head in disapproval.
judgement.
I wish I’ll be there to point it all out the way I want to right now.
you will find the People always tend to be right.
we could go about our loving in public not giving a f*ck what they think, but they would witness our crash.
Love is a tragedy we simply can’t avoid.
and I’ll be at the shawarma joint,
then you’ll walk by with the new love of your life;
fingers woven into each others’
and I would want to tell you-
holding your face with both my hands like I used to-
I told you. Didn’t I?
you would leave.
It’s a tragedy we can’t avoid.
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Hang Out with Jason Mraz at His Home Studio on the Mranch
What more is my life but a journey!
A journey back to You, the One who made me.
Through the countless doors of my worldly being,
With arms stretched out, my soul breaks out! Oh, ever so freeing!
Many tears You shed, Your loving heart bled,
As I wandered off, wading into the trench.
Yet back to you, fled my parched soul to quench
This thirst, insatiable. In Your mercy, I drenched!
Though I ventured into lands far and unknown,
Your voice reached out, rising over my own.
Through the mist of my thoughts, vain and worn,
Your light sought my soul, beyond skin and bone.
Thank You enough, I never truly can,
For Your mercy on me, and all that You planned.
Where would I be, if it weren’t for Your hand
Lifting me up, making sure I could stand!
It is at Your feet, I deserve to be.
Yet here You are, watching over me,
Calling me Your own, gently soothing me.
Worthy of such love – can I ever be?
Oh! What more is my life but a hymn, a song!
A song of love, of where I truly belong.
Plucking the strings of my heart, all day long,
My soul hums on and on, how could I not!
I shall forever dance to the rhythm of Your love,
Embrace Your gift, I’m much unworthy of,
Spread this peace and calm, this joy, so buoyant!
For what more is my life, but that it is Yours!
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Reapers
Aren’t her eyes
like a faded picture.
An old soul
in a young creature.
Dresses like her favorite singer.
Eyebrows frayed at the edge.
Tongue like a bee’s stinger.
And in this dream
we float forever.
Thinking we are both
so clever.
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E’er do I dwell ‘neath yawning sun
When young we were, to antic run
A frolic through the scratching grass
And barley sway in our trespass,
To lie frames lithe aside the lake
That glinted churn’d by thrashing drake,
Where dripp’d and darted dragonflies
The rippl’d glass to scrutinise
Refracted flutt’ring Admiral
Aside the lucent bursts of wool
That ache the bough of old-man’s-beard.
These moments now are disappeared
As in our paths did yearning tides
To sep’rate dest’nies cleave our strides.
But e’er, beneath the willow bower
That drips to banks some solemn hour,
Do you think of those free days
When, by the stream with hearts ablaze,
We loved, and lived as lovers do
Beneath the endless welkin blue?
In the dawnburst flutt’ring streams
Of slate-grey half-awaking dreams,
Does my face to mem’ry tumble
As some distant joyous rumble?
Do you e’er with morning dew
Think of me as I oft do you?
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