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"Some things we feign, we can't forgo.
We control the tides, not stop the flow."
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
Hi!
First of all, thank you so much for taking interest in my works. As I type this, I expect few to no readers to notice this book, and consequently much less — that is, absolutely none — to purchase this anthology. Secondly, I hope you forgive me for this is the first time I'm sharing this collection to the public.
What you are about to read — assuming you intend to read any page beyond this — are works written by an amateur who wastes ink out of boredom. She compiled them as encouraged by teachers who read those she submitted for school activities, and started sharing them recently with the support of a few friends (and also because of the lockdown implemented due to the COVID-19 pandemic), and I opted not to alter whatever my past self created so as not to tarnish the innocence [nor coat the lack of which] she must have had at the time she wrote it, which is also why the pieces are arranged in chronological order — from a time when I was aware I liked writing yet dismissed it as a negligible hobby, to a time when my muse just kept giving me ideas even when I paid it no heed, to the time I finally accepted that it is more than just a habit I can grow out of. Hence, these works are a message from yesterday to today [and maybe even tomorrow], and though the words are mine, the book is now yours, so please feel free to fill in the blanks, literally and figuratively, and occupy every space with words and artworks if you will.
That said, I hope the poems are worth the read, and that these pieces of myself might connect with those of yours.
~ LDRP
October 13, 2015
More than pages of books with my fingers
I want to know I’ve touched others
With even the littlest, simplest acts
And unspoken words.
More than my favorite characters,
I want to see the world change.
It’s enough for me that I meet them
Through every page holding their names.
More than a non-existent song,
I want to hear the kind of silence
That speaks of peace and justice
And sings stories of shared happiness.
More than coffee and old books,
I want to smell the old fresh air
From trees, rivers, and sees
So I know more people care.
Not much more than dark chocolate and strawberries,
I’d love to taste the thrill of life –
Even broken promises and breaking memories –
The sweetness of pain and strife.
October 16, 2015
Some things we feign, we can’t forgo.
We control the tides, not stop the flow.
January 5, 2016
You could serve it as cold as her heart,
Or warm – but not as sweet – as her smile.
Don’t be in a rush.
I’m used to things taking a while.
You can pour it in a paper cup
For me to crumple after
The way she did
With the love I gave her.
Or pour it in a mug
As fragile as I can be,
And easy to hold
And let down simply.
It might be too light to resemble her eyes
If you put too much milk in my coffee.
I’d be fine if it’s bitter as me;
Misery loves company.
You served it with a note for me:
“I know you hate bitter.
I know how you like your coffee.
Why look for me in what I serve?
Why can't you look at me?”