OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

note: I am a child of a holocaust survivort

When I Get Older

When I get older

I will start to try to remember

What my mother has chosen to forget.

But in the meantime

leave me to glean fragments of words and glances

and set them aside.

When I get older

will start to build a legacy

out of the grey mists of the past.

But in the meantime

leave me the museums and commemorations

and the nod to my son, amid,

as if to say - this is somehow us also.

When I get older

I will start to embrace my wife

with all the words that end with–inity or -ence

like the magazines say.

But in the meantime

leave me to cling to her desperately

even as I wish to run away.

When I get older

I will buy a new diary with gold leaf

(And put away the loose-leaf binders of errant pages)

to write long and straight upon the ivory colored page

But in the meantime

leave me to scrawl in jagged sentences

that bend around stains and scribbles,

the story of my life.

When I get older,

I can start to imagine being someone

I hadnt imagined before

But in the meantime

leave me to sit on the park bench ,

between my parents,

eating sandwiches out of waxed paper bags.

Don't be swift to

write me off as unfriendly, withdrawn

When inside there is a

Tangled web of insecurity, apprehension

or A fight between facades

One with voice of silky timbre, charming and sarcastic

The other a tumble of words,

Stuttering and wayward

Don't be swift to

Label me arbitrary, superficial

When outside I am Unable

To articulate, express

Or connect gazes

Eyes cast down at two folded hands

Mouth clamped shut before my chance to speak

Thought my pastel rippling vertically, center bold and tumbling, venatical amplification wind blown, conspicuously cloaked now fumbling,

Rain harms none but still I cry

Forget what's done, move on to night

Missing Persons

She would sit alone in her room

after school
practicing her cursive to be smooth not spiky

til mother came home
after the pots were scrubbed in the cafeteria

and wait for her to lay on the couch
damp towel draped over her eyes.
I'm going outside,
She'd announce to her hand on the knob
and go out in the neighborhood
to find her sister who Mother said
was lost long ago during the war.
"It doesn't matter
If I'll know who she is,"
she'd tell herself,
ss she looked expectantly at the faces of strangers,
waiting to be found
"She'll recognize me."

Frozen in time

I watched as time seemed to stand still
The whole world froze in place
As if someone hit the pause button if you will
And so it continued on for days

I glanced at my old watch made of steel
The pointers weren't moving one bit
Pain in my heart I feel
As if it had been hit

I stared at the joyful faces
Of people that I used to know
They're now in numerous different places
With loving families in tow

I missed being able to move forward
As a statue, I stand motionless in time
Silence surrounded me yet I heard
Words that were once mine

I regret not taking chances
Surely I could have done more
In high regards I used to hold my defenses
Now I wonder what for

I let out a tear
Looked at the people I used to call friend
How I wished they were here
As I held the pictures in my hand

Reader's adventures

On what adventure shall I embark next
Various different options to choose from
I experience them all through written text
Much like an endless silent song

Some words carry me to another place
Some words resonate with me deeply
Others I read through fast, as if it were a race
Whatever their role is, words complete me

A little book made of paper where
Characters are born as stories are told
At the pages I intensely stare
Watching mysteries unfold

Turning pages by the minute
The world draws me in
I know my time is only finite
Yet I can't help but grin

Every beginning has an end
It is only a matter of when
Grateful as I am, after this I simply can't
Be the same person ever again

you are stronger than you know.

you are going to evolve into someone new, someone like now. a fallen comet a brand to be bought on the market. a nba player on the wall of failure aaa aa aaa aaa error! system encountered an error. try again?

but wait! first,

you got to tear into

yourself, bleed your fingers dry, throw out your plump bruised red skin crawling with germs liver, chew spit chew taste the metallic tint of oxygen make your kidneys a nice liquid, (maybe the boys will come now), throw out the nest of snakes living in the pit.

throw off the intruder living in your body. throw away yourself. there is nothing there.

TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE/SELF-HARM

So late last year, two dear friends of mine committed suicide within the same month. Feeling excruciatingly melancholy and helpless, I turned to what has always been my solace: writing. I wrote this piece in ode to them, and it may come off as dark and cynical, but if you've ever been in the same situation, you will understand the message of hope. I wanted to share this on here because it seemed appropriate. It has no title. Any feedback is very much welcome, I love hearing what people think. Here goes...

It took me ages to find this on my ipad as i'd deleted the app i wrote it on. Anyway this is just a short little poem about memories of my childhood which i wanted to show you guys :) here it is

The summers that I remember




The jingle of the ice-cream van as it comes around the corner
The yells and hoots of the children playing in the street
With balls and scooters and bikes and ropes
These are the summers I remember

The long summer days with nothing to do
Except play on the road with the friends that you meet


Between Bulldog and Hopscotch,
Tip the can and Red Rover
We would stay out on the road 'til the street lights came on
And our mothers would call us a hundred times over


Off to bed at nine o clock to get a good sleep
To get up next morning and just repeat

Those were the summers that I remember

Its not very good i know, but i hope people like it. Poetry is not my strong point lol