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Sara Teasdale
Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.
We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.
What was not done on earth by incapacity
Of old, was promised for the life to be.
But I will build a heaven which shall prove
A lovelier paradise
To your brave mortal eyes
Than the eternal tranquil promise of the Good.
For freedom I will give perfected love,
For which you shall not pay in shelter or in food.
For the work of my head and hands I will be paid,
But I take no fee to be wedded, or to remain a maid.
moth to moth
we discourse in letters of fire
still free
A single-file line is formed,
Before marching in unison,
With matching suits and ties,
All following our leaders,
With hair slicked back similarly,
Our scents reminiscent of one another’s,
All eyes looking straight ahead,
No hesitation is shown,
Trained for the same mission,
Trained for the same goal,
Brainwashed into submission,
Containing no thoughts of our own,
Taught that it was moral,
Taught that it was just,
That it would be best for our families,
That it would be best for ourselves,
Twisting and turning
Speeding and slowing
Through the labyrinth of streets
Braving the noise, the crowds
Boxed in by tall buildings
The bike rushes as if to escape-
Suffocated, nearly strangled.
It climbs a flyover
Higher, over the lowly lot
A blooming Gulmohar
By the side, smiling
And then – a patch of sky –
Bright, white
And farther, a deep blue.
My mind speaks for freedom
My body forgets where I'm from
I just keep on dreaming
& Always,
Sometimes,
Singing.
Clouds,
Wish I was you,
Can enjoy every second of the scenery,
Free to go anywhere,
No one asks why or scolds you,
They even praises you for your beauty,
Wish I was you.
When you cheat on a test
or steal a little money
When you joke about others
and think it's quite funny
"Your parents didn't raise you properly."
When you grow up in the future
and maybe rob a bank
or vandalize a famous landmark
with graffiti on your hands
"Your parents didn't raise you properly."
What does that have to do with them?
Maybe they talked to me
maybe they shouted at me
Maybe they led by example
or just simply left me
What effect does that have?
Being me is being in your head 24/7,
Being me is having constant debates with life and death..
Being me is not even being here.. Being me, is Being a watcher, a listener an observer..
Being me is loving the storm and the clouds,
Being me is unbashadly thinking out loud..
Being me is an inability to hold a grudge..
Being me is constantly feeling star-struck..
Being me is being an ocean of possibilities,
Being me is being silent in difficulties.. Being me is clearly not that easy.. Being me is an experiment to revive humanity..
Being me is being on trips with the sun and the sea..
Being me is an overdose of curiosity.. Being me is loving so-so deep, that everything I touch begins to heal..
Be cruel to me,
I'll make my heart kind.
Make me fall again,
I'll get up to rise.
Take away my freedom,
I'll free my soul.
Set the evil traps,
I'll make myself bold.
Cut my wings,
I'll fly on my visions.
You think you're killing a bird
But I'm a raging Dragon
I want to feel loved
And cared for
And happy
I want to feel free
And careless
And wild
I want to feel hate
And stress
And darkness
I just want to feel something worthwhile
Because I have been left broken
Oh how beautiful
The leaves a bright green
Branches like fingers reaching
To touch and scratch and claw
Their beauty astonishes me.
Oh how I wish I were one
So free
So free
To do
What I
Please
Free
Free
Free