Your Heart was Not Mine? | Short Poem No. 104

your heart is not mine
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

“You swore to me that your heart was not mine.
So why cry, babe, when I leave every time?”

From the moment he spied her, he had them:
Feelings he thought were dead in adolescence.
Or, like when Eve was first spied by Adam;
Feelings that leave you dead to all sense.

She was bored that day. . .or. . .is every day.
Particularly not amused by him.
Fine enough to catch what he had to say.
But, as routine, her attention was thin.

“Blah blah. . blah blah . . .” was all that she had heard.
At least, that’s how she fancies it to seem.
Her presumed indifference dissolved his nerve
because she veils her glances in between.

“You swore to me that your heart was not mine.
So why cry, babe, when I leave every time?”

I’m Letting It Go [Again]

© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I’m Letting it Go [Again] | Short Poem Remix Number 30

I"m letting it go again
Photo by Morgan Vander Hart on Unsplash

I’m letting it go [again] 

(letting go). 

All the same familiar things  

(letting go). 

My friends – all acting the same 

(letting go). 

My friends – playing the same game 

(letting go).

I thought it’d change last night  

(not letting go). 

I’m gonna make this right 

(not letting go). 

I’m gonna win this fight 

(not letting go). 

. . . 

. . .I just wanted to make it right. . .  

. . . 

. . .(it’s, gone). . . 

. . . 
 

Why do we run our lives in inside circles 

always spinning and reliving the past; 

We are reaching for what we thought we lost

while losing what could have been in our grasp.

Lifeless Winter Trees

© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I’m Not Saying I’m Crazy but. . . | Short Poem No. 101

not saying crazy
Photo by Ben Maguire on Unsplash

I’m not saying I’m crazy but. . .

Sometimes I don’t feel like writing.
Sometimes I don’t feel like talking.
Sometimes I don’t feel like anything.
Sometimes. . .

Sometimes days are grayish,
Surrounded by deep fog
and my coffee just can’t clear it.

I’m not saying I’m crazy,
but sometimes. . .

Sometimes I just wanna roll into a ball,
hide in the couch,
watch T.V.
and just be alone.

If I could, I would cry for days.
But it’s been years since
a tear touched my face.
Why do I always feel so bad?
Why do I always feel so sad?

I’m not saying I’m crazy,
But sometimes. . .
Sometimes I worry something’s wrong. . .

A Lover’s Agony

© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

A Lover’s Agony – Collaboration

Hi Everybody! This next poem is a collaboration I did with Winnie from Musings. It’s a story about a lover’s agony. I start the dialogue as the first lover, and then she replies in italics as the other. . . I hope you enjoy. . .

a lover's agony
Photo by Marisa Harris on Unsplash

“A Lover’s Agony”

As I laid down in bed, I closed my eyes.
I drifted to sleep thinking about you.
The girl that I used to know from my past. . .
And I wonder. . . Do you think of me, too?

”I woke up in the wee hours of the morning
Restless in my sleep 
Beddings and pillows strewn across the floor
Thoughts of you invaded my mind
For your visage, I wish to espy in a flash”

I left you, my dear, in a foreign land.
And with you I left my heart, mind and soul.
Tell me, do you miss laying hand-in-hand?
Without you, dear, I’ve never been whole.

“How long can I carry this unbearable ache?
A sudden deep yearning rendering me helpless
Which I tried to repudiate in my waking state
But my willful heart’s a traitor”

It pains me to think of how I can’t go back.
My cowardice preventing me in telling you there’s never going to be us.
My amour, I found someone who filled the void you left.
I owe it to you, to tell the truth, but I don’t know where to start…

© Winnie, Musings & Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Hurricanes, Snow Leopards and Star dust | Short Poem 100

snow leopards star dust hurricanes
Photo by Aditya Saxena on Unsplash

My Dear,
You’re a Hurricane.
You Came to Tear Me Apart.
. . .but Flooded my Mind.

My Dear,
You’re a Snow Leopard.
You’re Beautiful from Afar.
. . .but Hunted my Heart.

My Dear,
You are the Star Dust.
A Beautiful Mystery.
. . .but Bewitched my Soul.

Hi poets, it’s time for my 100th poem, and I wanted to do something special. So I wanted to give my readers the chance to choose what I will write for my 100th poem. I received 3 suggestions, and although they are pretty random, I went with it and it was fun to do it this way!

The most best part about this poem is that it can have multiple meanings. It can be about someone whose love was powerful and overtook you in a good way, or someone that bewitched you with love in a bad way. Or maybe somewhere in between, the one you hate to love or hate to love. It’s up to you to decide for yourself what this means to you. . . Like star dust, this poem, itself, is full of mystery.

Shout outs to Kajal the Mermaid and Phillip Knight Scott for their recommendations for this poem!

You Didn’t Mean to Hurt Me

© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.