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A

Good Night My Love

I long to call and say good night my love

And yet I do not know you

You are a man on a page

Words written that inspire

Memories of a forgotten

Time and place

Where once angels whispered in my ear

Their calming melody

To let down this sword

That has been lain upon

My tired arm

I have grown weary and am

Worn down to the smallest part

That still tries to be strong

And brave

And true

Yet I long for another arm

Stronger still than mine

To help carry this burden

To hold

To inspire

To lend

Needed

Alms

To one

Small soul

Who dared

To climb

The highest

Mountain peak

To reach for gold

And endless

Dreams

Of

Grander

Things




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yenti

yenti

17 years 2 months ago

Night

That you cry out for someone, that all you have to do is look inside, paint that picture in your ways and go out and belong to the one you see. A lovely piece of writing from a lonely soul that has to learn that to fill a space you have to know your own space, Yours Ian.T
A

Aureo

17 years 2 months ago

Ah....a sigh

Dear Ian, It is by knowing my own self oh so well that I am in the space I´m in. It is the loneliness of nothingness that keeps me yearning for grander things...my life was so full once and I would often say my cup runneth over for all the gifts and joys I received, that was then and this is now and so the words flow out and through me looking for meaning in all that I have lived. You are quiet right that I need to paint the picture or sing the song that is me, I know what you are saying and in my own way I do. Thank you for listening I know you are a wise and trusting soul. Kristeta
Cloudthings

Cloudthings

17 years 2 months ago

A sigh indeed, I love the

A sigh indeed, I love the way you write... & include in that every comment I have read of yours. With its wisdom & its humility & the tatters of loss & constant quiet ponderance of a better present, trying to ignore the spaces that were once so fecund (or at least to ignore the pain of their demise). I feel incredibly akin, especially this love loss poem that speaks my own story in it's way (yours of course, but mine with borrowed eyes & bruised sensation)... It did make me sigh I know these ghosts of evening These words “goodnight my love” That hung unspoken but Leak out of your heart To lay in pools of weariness indeed Spent, for no more fighting for the loss & tired of going over what the cause might be, the cost & yes to be so small & bravery that lays no potent hand But limp, becomes a pillow Even if there’s no demand I feel for you & know these things, The courage to step out To claim an aspiration, so obscure that perhaps was not so pure when truth be known. I do not know your endings Or the story in its frame But empathy Pours out of me Whatever grief is named I know worse things can happen Than a quiet sad retreat Soft & slow But will not go & lurks in spaces one must meet Oh dear, it bloody fell into a poem… I feel for you & loved this poem you wrote - is what I should have said, it paints such a beautiful anguished longing. I so hope you fill your life again, with the loveliness you have known or better… I want to say, come here, it’s lovely here, I could show you wonderful community & fill your heart with laughter & sorrow shared between these ones I love… & yet I know, I retire to a similar emptiness each night (& any time I can steal the solitude - too often lately), that nothing else can touch… & I know you will find your path to step beyond it, as will I. But any time you want to share, I’d love to hear it, interact with it. Can we buddy up, I want to know when you write more here? There is SUCH nobility in you Kristeta Anni "Out beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about ideas, language, and even the phrase, "each other" doesn't make any sense."