Memory Lane

When no one but the passing time hears,
I occasionally shout out the words of longing.
When the confused sky is my only witness,
I wander down the path of hazy memories –
That’s where we bump into each other
And linger in something
That was too hopeless to last –
Yet too rare to ever fully disappear.

© Noora (2016)

Farewell

My poetry lacks passion these days
No, it is not because of your scripted silence
It is because of me
I am a different poet than I was
Hundreds of sunsets ago

I don’t miss the morning of our love
When stormy skies seemed hyacinth blue
Obstacles turned into poetic possibilities
And the dawn broke in your willing smile

I don’t miss the evening of our love
When loving you was like chasing a sunset
Each day a new opportunity to despair
I don’t even recall the night of the cruelest silence
I have ever had to experience

There is no need to immortalize the past anymore:
Kisses mixed with the taste of my love
And a hint of yesterday’s vodka –
Or you at your most vulnerable
When I touched your bare skin
Like my pen used to touch paper

My poetry lacks passion these days
No, it is not because of your scripted silence
It is because of me
I am a different poet than I was
Hundreds of sunsets ago

There is no need to water wilted flower garden
I am shedding parts of me
In preparation for the new bloom

© Noora

* This is actually an oldie – just found and finished it.

Dear WordPress friends, how are YOU all? I’ve missed you!! Sorry for the absence – my focus has been needed elsewhere. I’ll be taking the time to read and comment your work in the coming days. Love & inspiration, always. – Noora.