FADED LOVE and LOVE LOST
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#468 Apr 24, 2013
Lover where I put you last,

is empty now and shadow cast.

and I am lost to have a care.

Lover where oh lover where?

Lover when I told you stay,

You didn't hear me any way,

and wandered off upon a dare.

Lover where oh lover where?

Lover why I care at all,

is stupid ,cause you never call.

And I am lost without my share.

Lover where oh lover where?

Lover how will I get by,

seeing how our love could die.

And I am sad beyond compair.

Lover where oh lover where?
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#469 Apr 25, 2013
Sometimes I feel like all that's
left of me is a lingering headache,
like all I am is short periods of
consciousness punctured by long lots of
sleep,
floating static below the ice
whilst everyone else ambles on,
above.

Sometimes I feel like I've never
even touched the air.

Like I'm just pretending to
breathe.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#470 Apr 25, 2013
My life is like the flowing river over round rocks
Swirling and tumbling.....

A leaf floating from its branch
A butterfly with no direction
Round corners and swirling grey incense smoke
Words written on a steamy glass mirror
Sheets twisted and draped across lovers
sent from a steeping cup of chi
sunlight moving through marshmallow clouds
Seaweed swayed and pulled by the tide
The summer wind brushing up against colorful clothes on the line
A mother's body
The figures in a watercolor painting.

Her life is sharp, stuck, cold.
Like that of tall city buildings
Razor blades and loud music
A searing pain as metal makes holes in the body
The tread of car tiers
The sticky sent of ashed cigarettes
The edges of broken glass
The buttons on a message board
Pulled tight like the strings to a guitar
Distant like dreams
and stuck like ice cubes at the bottom of a half empty class.
Confused like arithmetic
and straight forward like Shakespeare.
Like the stars
and a tattooed wedding ring.
Like stacado.

And I love her.
But she's gone.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#471 Apr 25, 2013
The whistle of the train drifts into my morning ears
Delicate fingers of light brush through my hair,
Illuminating my face
Floating, flying through my being:

An innocent climbs the mountain
to the window far above her bed.

Two blue eyes yearning for a peek.
She looks for the distant train track,
as if she might peer hard enough through the trees
that she'd catch a glimpse of her beloved transport.

Maybe, just maybe, it would stop, take her away.
She closes her eyes, and imagines being a black bird.

Twisting, tumbling, turning
in the air above the ancient steam powered train.

Fly free, Fly fast.
If she races, she might just get away.

I open my baby-blues, and she disappears
as though she were sand..........

drifting away on the wind.

She drifts away from me.




Level 8

Since: Aug 08

.

#472 Apr 25, 2013
Don't Go Far Off

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because ~
because ~ I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep..

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart..

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

~Pablo Neruda

“ROCK ON ROCKERS!!”

Level 8

Since: Mar 11

Rockin' USA ;)

#473 Apr 25, 2013
Sweetie-Pie wrote:
Don't Go Far Off
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because ~
because ~ I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep..
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart..
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
~Pablo Neruda
Sweetie Pie..Never knew you were poetical??? Nice choice..
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#474 Apr 26, 2013
Now they are no longer
any trouble to each other

he can turn things over, get down to that list
of things that never happened, all of the lost

unfinishable business.
For instance… for instance,

how he never clipped and kept her hair, or drew a hairbrush
through that style of hers, and never knew how not to blush

at the fall of her name in close company.
How they never slept like buried cutlery –

two spoons or forks cupped perfectly together,
or made the most of some heavy weather –

walked out into hard rain under sheet lightning,
or did the gears while the other was driving.

How he never raised his fingertips
to stop the segments of her lips

from breaking the news,
or tasted the fruit

or picked for himself the pear of her heart,
or lifted her hand to where his own heart

was a small, dark, terrified bird
in her grip. Where it hurt.

Or said the right thing,
or put it in writing.

And never fled the black mile back to his house
before midnight, or coaxed another button of her blouse,

the another,
or knew her

favourite colour,
her taste, her flavour,

and never ran a bath or held a towel for her,
or soft-soaped her, or whipped her hair

into an ice-cream cornet or a beehive
of lather, or acted out of turn, or misbehaved

when he might have, or worked a comb
where no comb had been, or walked back home

through a black mile hugging a punctured heart,
where it hurt, where it hurt, or helped her hand

to his butterfly heart
in its two blue halves.

And never almost cried,
and never once described

an attack of the heart,
or under a silk shirt

nursed in his hand her breast,
her left, like a tear of flesh

wept by the heart,
where it hurts,

or brushed with his thumb the nut of her nipple,
or drank intoxicating liquors from her navel.

Or christened the Pole Star in her name,
or shielded the mask of her face like a flame,

a pilot light,
or stayed the night,

or steered her back to that house of his,
or said “Don’t ask me how it is

I like you.
I just might do.”

How he never figured out a fireproof plan,
or unravelled her hand, as if her hand

were a solid ball
of silver foil

and discovered a lifeline hiding inside it,
and measured the trace of his own alongside it.

But said some things and never meant them –
sweet nothings anybody could have mentioned.

And left unsaid some things he should have spoken,
about the heart, where it hurt exactly,
and how often.........
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#475 Apr 26, 2013
Those were the long afternoons when poetry left me.
The river flowed patiently, nudging lazy boats to sea.
Long afternoons, the coast of ivory.
Shadows lounged in the streets, haughty manikins in shopfronts
stared at me with bold and hostile eyes.

Professors left their schools with vacant faces,
as if the Iliad had finally done them in.
Evening papers brought disturbing news,
but nothing happened, no one hurried.
There was no one in the windows, you weren’t there;
even nuns seemed ashamed of their lives.

Those were the long afternoons when poetry vanished
and I was left with the city’s opaque demon,
like a poor traveler stranded outside the Gare du Nord
with his bulging suitcase wrapped in twine
and September’s black rain falling.

Oh, tell me how to cure myself of irony, the gaze
that sees but doesn’t penetrate; tell me how to cure myself
of silence.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#476 Apr 26, 2013
Will you hear my voice?

When I’m no longer here

Will you remember my fingers?

Running through your hair

Will you taste my lips?

Kissing and loving you

Will you feel the thrust of my hips?

Making love like we used to do

Will you relive the tenderness of my touch?

Caressing and massaging your skin

Will you count the number of tears?

I have cried and tried to hide within

Will you imagine your life without me?

As you start your journey alone

Will you think of only the precious moments?

With your usual smile, sigh and moan

Will You?

“Want A Friend, Be One”

Level 9

Since: Mar 12

Smiling :o) all the way....

#477 Apr 26, 2013
Dear friend,I wish for you,comfort on difficult days..smiles when sadness intrudes..rainbows to follow the clouds..laughter to kiss your lips..sunset to warm your heart..gentle hugs when your spirit sags..friendships to brighten your being..beauty for your eyes to see...confidence when you are in doubt..faith so that you can believe..patience to know yourself...courage to accpet the truth and love to complete your life...I wish for you all these things and many more....

not mine found it.....:O)...
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#478 Apr 26, 2013
The price of perfection,
one cannot bare.
The price of freedom,
one cannot share.

The hours engulf you,
the minutes indulge you.
Time waits for no man,
yet you're still waiting here.

Trading places for thee unknown,
feeling like a fool,
but waiting for your soul mate,
seems like too much to behold.

You sin in the masses,
wasting away in this world,
You fuck up second chances,
making false promises to those you hold dear.

The tide takes you away,
you don't notice you've drowned.
Your world crumbles,
you don't notice when you hit ground.

Night's darkness sinks in slowly,
but you're waiting for the day.
You hold true love for no one,
yet you hold your breath when he walks by anyway.

The things you were intending,
hold strong and true,
the tears you're fighting,
try to fucking destroy you.

But at last,
the conflicts resolved,
the future seems bright,
but the conqueror falls,
what a fucking fright.

The you find light,
and it makes you seem virtuous,
drawing you in for a closer look,
but it makes no sense now,
for the ultimate price,
and your soul that it took.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#479 Apr 26, 2013
light from darkness
flux from stillness

physically expressing
spiritual connection

inside space
beyond words

teetering at the brink
fear our spring board

we must somersault
into the unknown.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#480 Apr 28, 2013
The supreme pleasure of love

Is the knowledge of doing evil.

We know that all voluptuousness

Makes its home there.



There are other pleasures.



That of watching

Twelve or fourteen leagues of liquid

In constant movement.



That of contemplating nomadic peoples,

Who in their native dignity

Know nothing of mediocrity. Of the desire

To converse with Satan in the form

Of a dog or cat. Or the belief in progress

Which means that others

Will do our work and thank us

For the pleasure.



That of knowing superstition

Is the well of truth, and, should

They live in Paris,

How in every grand theatre

The chandelier is the protagonist—



Really a spellbound whore

Who enjoys flying up at the right moment,

Opening herself utterly,

Taking all requests.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#481 Apr 28, 2013
Absolutely DeVine wrote:
The supreme pleasure of love
Is the knowledge of doing evil.
We know that all voluptuousness
Makes its home there.
There are other pleasures.
That of watching
Twelve or fourteen leagues of liquid
In constant movement.
That of contemplating nomadic peoples,
Who in their native dignity
Know nothing of mediocrity. Of the desire
To converse with Satan in the form
Of a dog or cat. Or the belief in progress
Which means that others
Will do our work and thank us
For the pleasure.
That of knowing superstition
Is the well of truth, and, should
They live in Paris,
How in every grand theatre
The chandelier is the protagonist—
Really a spellbound whore
Who enjoys flying up at the right moment,
Opening herself utterly,
Taking all requests.
Reported.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#482 Apr 28, 2013
I Am Enzo - The Baker wrote:
<quoted text>
Reported.
Noted !

All conscientious scruples -- all generous feelings must give way to our inexorable duty -- which is to keep the Topix Offbeat public's mind in a healthy state of excitement, and my experience here over these past five years has taught me that you and others like you, reporting me alone can never do this.

~Always DeVine.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#483 Apr 29, 2013
Absolutely DeVine wrote:
<quoted text>
Noted !
All conscientious scruples -- all generous feelings must give way to our inexorable duty -- which is to keep the Topix Offbeat public's mind in a healthy state of excitement, and my experience here over these past five years has taught me that you and others like you, reporting me alone can never do this.
~Always DeVine.
Reported.

Level 9

Since: Feb 12

Location hidden

#484 Apr 29, 2013
Where I worked there was a handsome and nice young man that I would love to have dated. I called and pretended I loaned him a book. I quickly found out that he wasn't interested in me. Embarrassing.
Level 4

Since: Feb 13

Location hidden

#485 Apr 29, 2013
quilterqueen wrote:
Where I worked there was a handsome and nice young man that I would love to have dated. I called and pretended I loaned him a book. I quickly found out that he wasn't interested in me. Embarrassing.
At least only you knew QQ.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#486 Apr 30, 2013
Prescient, her essence
Casts a demure persuasion,
Endowed with verve and vision;
Concept to consummation,
The serenely possessed,
Creator, originator,
Allusion to the eternal azure,
Logos of abstraction,
Word and image collision.

Tonal palette of faith infused reason
Beauty and sublimity,
Serve to season
Verse, canvas and film,
Mediating aesthetic, seminal senses blossom,
Lyrical each permutation,
Seeds of vibrant chroma diffusing the mystical.

Visage and hair, her figure haunted
With perfection - a work of Art
Nurtured and lived invocation,
The canon of taste;
Crystal for the nonce
Devotional fragrance ,
Holistic ethos, melodic invention,
Animated, pure -
The embodiment of redemption.

Transcending form, parenthetically
(Merely) the decorative,
Allure, artistry and symmetry
Superlative complexity,
Her erudition satiates, supplanting
Winds of constructive banality.

Purveyor of an uncommon savor,
She collaborates in the peculiar
Pursuit and reward,
Encounter with depth, explored,
Human and divine, prosaic meets sublime
Igniting within an Eros
Passion for truth, being and Telos.

Visionary of grace and peace
Transforming our earthbound dissonance;
Our caprice,
Hope and abundance, the myth of scarcity,
She narrates the Good.
Pen, lens, color and stage
Vulnerable, unrepressed, effusive
Romantic articulation,
The reservoir deep,
Innately primed conduit of Love.

Beyond plebeian, cosmetic, the trite
Woman of substance, pulchritude
And delight.
Effervescent - her smile exquisite,
Eclipsing suffering,
Wordless expression, understood language.
I am transported, my imagination replete,
Ah yes -
Art personified; unabridged, complete.
Anonymous

The Gap, Australia

#487 Apr 30, 2013
Am I feeling better??
How could I feel better
when nothing has changed?
everything is still the same
the tears
the pain
the building rage.

The struggle
the fight
the sleepless nights
the painful thoughts in my mind
do I seem better to you?

How am I?
How should I be?
when you say
you need me
completely contradicting
everything
you said to me.
that you would
never be okay
and you don't
have the strenght
to deal with me this way
so you tell me
how am I

What am I going to do?
you put the
decision on me
so you can
keep your hands clean
and remain guilt free
and everyone can think
that I'm the selfish one

You make up
your mind
and decide
that you need some time
and I look like the bad guy
so I don't know
what to do!

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