A small conversation (beginning)

I were by a friend in a small cottage enjoying a trip as I was deeply depressed. My friend argued I needed the fresh air on the countryside instead the one of London. I didn't reprove his words.

That was on that wet morning where the dew took place in the fields and where the autumn light was fabulous that I have this talk with him. That wasn't a bad talk only a heart to heart conversation of two very good friends. I was surprised he began this talk as he isn't talkative.

-You have to move ...
-What for? This rocking chair is the most comfortable things I have had to dream.
-Please consider you are....
-You are what...ill depression is a normal response to not normal situations you know what I really think already. You think like the other then already in London all try to give an hand and felt by having surch commentary to me. (I were walking as I stand up angry) You think I have not enough ressource and enough power...oh god...you are not supposed to be like others...no you are indeed. What mess you are the only one I can trust. I tried to fix things on but failed what alternatives did I get since then?
-None. I am sorry.
-You are like normal lad...I have to realise none can do things for me...I am really tired....and I think about unbearable things....you can't hear it right if only death can bring me down....no fears no anger again. I guess if I count to people...yeas or no?
 -To me you count
-Yeas I can imagine the world so devasted by my loss but I suffer too much only things are bitterness and pain I feel definetly sad the anxiousness eat me slowly....step by step...
(I opened the window that let me go directly in the garden where a small table and two chairs where lying)
You know if I can tell you all the truth you cannot bear it. I guess how to tell people about that...only my pain remain harder than when I were by me in London. My tabacco is missing me as well as my librairy...I forget my notebook...to write things down. I need comfort...love and happiness. Is that too much?
-To the notebook I can do something to your comfort I will do my best to the rest dear I can't be useful. I just see you destroy yourself with a kind a shameful feeling and helplessness.
-I just wish to desapear for a moment. I got too much strong feelings that I can't explain easily. Contemplating death wasn't a so good thing.
-I have good wine from France and this noon we will make good cheers...don't worry too much my dear fellow maybe you'll find you own strength again. Let me take care of you.

He didn't realise I was earnest. I took a good walk in the wood before our lunch. Its duration was around one hour but that didn't distract me of my depressed thoughts. I wished something happened to me as this instant. But the calm of the forest remain till I was back to the cottage I felt so dizzy and numb in a weird in between.

Romantic poem 10

I know I will pain you
I want to die among the nature
I will miss you
I have no luck for nothing
So I recall my thoughts
Walking in the forest
Writting neaby a 300 year old tree
I guess he has seen many things
He grew up in a parc I know
I feel comfort under it
He probably met peole of the 19th century
And met the arabian prince
Who gave him a ceadar as neighbor
He also have seen maybe parties in the manor nearby
And the beautifull dresses of these Madams

He will also see my tears in a warm day of spring
How my heart weighth and aches
He will see my writting
The only thing that let me live
And one day someone else will enjoy his presence
Because I won't be there
I will be free

Romantic poem 9

I thought that giving up was good
But I realize-
As the nature stay quiet
And rest in winter-
That hope remain in small things
That even pain life is worthy to be lived

A ray of light can let you be brave
A blowing wind in the leaves can quiet an anxious mind
A motion of the nature soften bad feelings

I thought I wanted to leave so many time
Feeling worthless and useless
But I live
And am made to fight

Romantic poem 8

The sun wake up
And my soul get pain
My tears flowed at night
Like the sky is cloudy and wet
My hope and expectation are fading away
My heart want to pass away
But I prefer to smile to you
I feel fresh air on my skin
I hear singing birds
But I feel empty
Nothing is truthworthy
Only the pain remain

Should I fight or die?
Should I dream or write?

Only my thoughts remain like a scream
Which is nerver ending
In the silence of pages

Romantic poem 7

Fall is coming
With the tumbling leaves
I don't want to see winter
I don't want to see snow
I want to dream nearby trees in spring
I want to find the light
When my heart don't
I want to feel love
When I think about death
But these things are not allowed to me

Romantic poem 6

The life has made me
As I am

Fragile
A warrior
An old sister
A friend

Asking under the moon
Who'll be there for me
Raging to fail again
Walking in the ruins of dreams
Trying to give to others
that I don't have

Romantic poem 5

I never thought to find you
I wandered
Cold hands and heart
Behind these graving stones
I felt calm
I forget my gloves somewhere
The crows are good keepers of secrets

I walked so often here
Dead cannot give comfort
My pain letted my heart heavy
And you ravished it
You gave me comfort
You hug me when my tears came down
You are here where I want to give up
You take my cold hands
And give me your warm gloves
And we came back hom

Romantic poem4

My pain aching so much
I want to wristle
To get an echo in the mountains

When do you come to comfort me?
When will you appear?

I walk alone and fiercely
A smile on my face
But life has given me hardships
I battled to stay alive
To walk and live normally
And I get nor pain

When will it end?
That music come back
Like wind in the trees
As I am dying mentally
Slowlyentering in dreamland to survive
Writting to let go

Saying why me why me?

Romantic poem 3

The wind blow in the trees
My heart wander
In my secret place
My english garden
Where all is quiet
Where all is happiness

I don't want to be cold
I don't want to feel dead anymore
I want to get out
I want to dream

I walk in a riverside
Taking a deep breath
Thinking of you
As I fear to fail again
Making time go slowly
Awaiting good things happened

Romantic poem 2

Melancholia
Give a weight to simple things
I want to bne among the sheeps in a field
Taking time to dream

My heart weight of beeing numb
All the time I feel useless and lifeless
I think about Friedrich's painting
I wander in the ruin if an old manor
searching in vain real comfort
My hands are so cold
As if my strength went away

Sometimes I wish to contemplate
Ivy of the ruins
And my death in a couple of minutes
But I realize how fool I am to call it upon me

As Keats said in "ode to a nightingale"
Do I wake or dream?

Romantic poem 1

Just a way
On the countryside
My heart wonder why
My eyes wander on the green field

I don't want to leave you
People say I shouldn't
I have to let you go before
He own your soul and attention

My hands are cold
Cold as if death has taken me
I walk without purpose
I don't want to leave you
But our life will probably split
Ow dear friend
I am now standing in ruins
Where all seems quiet
I believed we could have long lasting friendship
But no he caught your eyes and soul

I am tired of walking
I have found in you a trusted person
And a presence to break up the routine

Should I only dare to tell you
Or should I shut myself up?

Elsewhere

I want to be elsewhere
In the street of Berlin
Or Cambridge

The routinous life break me
Like an axe in an old's tree branches

I wish me soften days and times
But nothing has changed till some years
My pain deepen seen people make their life complete

Why should I bear all this?
Maybe because I am a strong warrior
A person made of steel
Seeing at the sky
My eyes full of tears
Thinking I wanna be elsewhere

No way to say

Pulse
a Pulse
A pulsation
Of heart
Stop by

Dream
A dream
Of an artist
Stop by

How could I explain
How my heart bleed
How my soul ache

No I can't
No I won't tell you

Please forget me
My friend
Please forget me
Forgive me

You are not here

I wish you could be right now with me
But you don't

I feel hopelessness and usefulness

How were the days when my heart has thrilled?
I didn't remember the days of old
Only the hurting and cruel reality

I am lost in a world you cant imagine
I will deceive people
Because you see me smiling

My world is full of dark thoughts
Where death are called when nothing rassure me
There are words poems and dreams
There are words poems and endless loneliness

My power reside in my will
My power reside in me

But my freedom is in your power
Of beeing mine forever
Nevertheless you are not here

Slow motion 1

A word like a flag
A pen and a page as material
Feelings deep as the sea
Result a poem

Two lovers

You know How I loved our walk
I never told you how I felt
Your presence full of dynamism
Made me realize I needed you

I am now in the countryside
Taking sun walking in the countryside
My land and you are far from me
I remembered how you were talkative
You surely thought I was shy

 I miss you

Your presence so calm

I miss you

I don't know why but I felt comfortable with you

You are there 

I can't tell you how I realize you counted for me

Ray of light remembered me your smile

I didn't see it very often but I caught some

I realize you didn't say things that mattered to you

You sometimes faint to be well

But I catch your way with your heart to tell the things

 May I say or dare to say I LOVE YOU?

Why should have been here?

Why should have been staying so quiet?

Why should have feared you run away?

I love you 

 

Notebook

Compulsive writting
A notebook
All has a purpose in life
No I am not ill
I took this habit to write
To save myself
Of....this desperation holding in my profound self

I hide all in a smile
Or do I really?
I write to let go
I have learned how to dwell in the land
Of eternal dreams
I have letted some thoughts on paper
Maybe the right to loose a bit of my innocence

I have left behind me
Many things
And my mind wander in the blue
In the land's words
To let me recover of the reality

Story telling

Why is that so important to tell people stories? Because it usually reflect our profound personnality.
I am sure as reader we didn't not realise this or just slightly. You are in your bed your book in hand and you suddently go somewhere else. I personnally love the once upon a time stories specially Grimm's brothers and Andersen. I was born with old plate discs and my mum used to let me heard tales for hours without disturbing me. Now the new generation don't know what it is to picturise the story by self. All is already made no more efforts nothing just following no creation from the mind. Even reading is more like picking graps in different houses.

The story telling appear as a new object of study because it must be realistic. No place to dream or create yourself your own way of thinking the story you see on the screen. SO where is the power of creation of our brain? People usually think in term of reality and not of evasion. All must stick to the anxious news. We live in an area of fear terror and threat. No more dream misters Grimm no more creation dear Andersen. In the 21th century nothing is more important of reality.

Story telling will kill our way of creativity by giving a sense to the horrible reality of nowadays forming generation of future adults.

Well it is only someone in her nearly 30 who appreciate to go back in her childhood's memories which write that. The only thing I want is to dream not staying in the same world as I live in.

You

I have ever remembered the soften time when you were with me just nearby
That gave me a heartbit that I didn't find again
I have since then never think of that
Or probably I didn't allow me to feel this again

When I dream of my garden
I want you by my side
I want you but you are to someone else

I just think it is unfair
But what can I do against that?

Are you happy do I often think?
My heart stay empty
But not of my memories

Imagining

You have probably meeting a woman somewhere in the street that you really find beautiful.
In her head you could find projects that life never let her finish
Some bad nightmares some bad experiences
But also some good as well
A party to her friends
A wedding
A night writting

What is the outside of someone?
Dont try to imagine it
Some suffer in silence
Not knowing when it will get better

This woman could have been a friend a sister a mum an aunt
A business woman a nanny a granny
A single one a widow a jobless a bride

How you feel inside could you ask?
Her eyes could have tell you
What happened before?
Could I trust you ?
Why asking me you are a stranger

Slowly you think she is offended
But not at all
You just has to know she don't give all in one way
Beeing misterious is what she prefer
She need time

                                                                                           "I am better now"

Answer

Why should I hide my feelings to you
When you just said how are you?
Twice this week
You meet me with these words

 If you could read my mind
If you could be god
You won't ask this terrible question
I come back to life slowly
Even fears are nor on my way
I try to survive

Is that all people wanna do
After nightmare?

to I.W

Letter to a friend

I meant things you never heard or looked at
And now you come to comfort me
What a shame dear friend
You should be there when needed

As far as I recall myself
You were by my side when I needed
Before you left our country

You come back and I changed in between
Much sorry the life was incredibly hard
And my heart shuted itself to support anything that happened in my life
I hanged till I couldn't bear all sudden changes
I stand still and alone waiting better days
Having to cope with accute anxiousness that I couldn't describe
How much time my heart raced and letted me numb
How I was angry and frustrated

Maybe it is just past or dream?

to SM

What is...?

 What is purpose?

A thing to tend to

What is life?

A part of human beeing

What is waiting?

A stop on a road