Heroine

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MacUinseann
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Heroine

Post by MacUinseann » August 13th, 2017, 9:04 pm

Through leaves that bud each spring
'cross empty Winship Avenue
The river flows by placidly
ignorant, beyond us all
It goes and so it went
as others vanished quietly
Leaving little but their names
over graves forgotten
That I could lie with them, she asks
to never taste this life again
The scent of summer steals my breath
stolen, to be stolen

Dizziness grips my head
and nausea, my stomach
Since when have blankets snuggled me,
let me sleep in bliss?
Or the sound downstairs of loved ones echo,
echo without pain?

I lie here waiting, wanting to be stolen
when my eyes drift closed at last

Tears now wetting pillows
as dull sobs wrack my chest
What is youth to me
but a time to dream of age?
Love a fevered tenderness
which came as less,
less than what it should be
Its almost like he broke my heart
beating rapid, out of sync
Too weak to keep myself alive
machines now do it for me

From a pit of hopelessness
I rose but for a time
To give a message to the world
that all despair will die
and leave them happy, all of them
I hear the scattered gunshots now
feel them in my chest
The word of hope I had still burns
but only here in me
A sad and lonely ember
flickering in the night

To sleep a wakeless slumber
for what is youth to me?

--- To S.P.M.


For in these darkest depths
we found we still believed
in these the hearts of summer

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tangerinepie
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Re: Heroine

Post by tangerinepie » August 14th, 2017, 11:58 am

This is a poem for the ages, every concept a truism, every word taking the reader through a lifetime. It is something that lingers in one's marrow, as we float through youth and old age. All memories good and bad a part of life's often awkward journey...A very fine write...Tangie..


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Ladywildalice
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Re: Heroine

Post by Ladywildalice » August 19th, 2017, 12:52 pm

There is a depth of pain and despair so deep, the bottom of it can not be visualized or even conceived. Some have never, nor will they ever, know that pain. Perhaps it is because they are better at fooling themselves, or of settling for the lies many tell themselves. BUT...I also know that despite all of that, suicide cuts a chunk out of the circle. Many people ask "Why am I here, is THIS all there is? Who is going to Love me? Who is going to be there for me? To save me?" The realization that we, each of us, are not put on this Earth in this mortal form, for ourselves, but for others. Speaking to you (the speaker of the poem), you may be the one person whose mortal contract is to suffer so someone else doesn't have to. OR you may be the one person who will save another soul by your touch, your smile, your word, your presence, and not even know it. But when we remove ourselves from the continuum, we leave that gap that no one else can fill, and the soul we might have possibly affected by our presence, has no one...then They cut a piece from the circle...and so one. Before you know it, there is merely a straight line moving from birth to death with no connection at all. Excellent write, excellent.


'Where ecstasy leaves gravity and dances with wild eyes' by Ladywildalice

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Versus
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Re: Heroine

Post by Versus » August 20th, 2017, 9:00 am

Love hurts. Need I say more? Perhaps one thing remains to be said: well done!


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SilentTears
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Re: Heroine

Post by SilentTears » September 14th, 2017, 9:27 pm

A tragic piece of love and loss, overwhelming memories and empty days. The desperation is almost too much to bear when you feel that can't go on. That you've lost something too vital, much like a heart, and you can't go on any more. Well done.


I let the sun on my skin.
Pretend I don't burn
I'm not burning here.
I just lay ash
On my eyelids,
And rub it deep into my
Bones.


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BarryC
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Re: Heroine

Post by BarryC » September 15th, 2017, 6:48 am

this is tremendous work-well done



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Josie
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Re: Heroine

Post by Josie » September 18th, 2017, 1:21 am

With the leaves falling and the river flowing on by, Narrator's thoughts turn to 'others' who leave little but their names 'over graves forgotten'. When I visit my husband and my mother's graves, I can't help but think about the graves no longer being visited by the living. By the dates I conclude most of the living who would have visited the gravesite have died, too.

I am guessing the 'she' who wishes she could lie with them is the heroine. She never wants to taste this life again. Sometimes a person is in so much pain that despair overwhelms them, whether the pain is physical or mental.

Heroine was an interesting title. To awake and make the best of everyday and cling to hope is an arduous task when a person is feeling their 'breath' has been stolen.


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SimplePoetry
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Re: Heroine

Post by SimplePoetry » September 20th, 2018, 11:21 pm

This is so good. I love how you tell a story so well without describing real events, it's wonderful! Favorite Line:
What is youth to me
but a time to dream of age?
That. That is awesome, Jimmy.



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