Tag: free poetry

  • Foggy Nights

    Foggy Nights

    Foggy nights had shrouded the moon’s pale face,
    Whispers of mist had woven through the air,
    Silent streets had been glazed with a ghostly trace,
    A world of shadows had become a hidden and rare realm.

    Lamp posts had flickered with a subdued light,
    Cloaked in different shades of black, blue, and grey, while the towns had slept,
    Noises had echoed, faint and renewed,
    In the fog, every secret had been kept and never revealed.

    Dreams had drifted in the haze as unknown visions,
    Fear and wonder had intertwined,
    In a realm of silence and solitude,
    Foggy nights had been shining mysteries.

    Windows had glowed with muffled lights,
    Shapes had moved softly as undefined geometries,
    Every sound had been a breathless fright,
    On foggy nights, where time had been unlimited.

    The past had emerged, lost in a grey mist,
    Forgotten whispers, fleeting, near,
    Old memories, like ghosts, had replayed,
    On foggy nights, they had reappeared.

    Each corner had held a hidden tale,
    Of love, of sorrow, left behind,
    On foggy nights, where voices had trailed,
    In the mist, their secrets had become bound.

    Lonely souls had wandered the veil,
    Seeking solace in the gloom,
    Foggy nights, where shadows had sailed,
    Through the twilight’s quiet chamber.

    Cloaked figures had drifted through the haze,
    Their faces had been lost, their stories untold,
    Through foggy nights, they had wandered in a daze,
    In this eerie silence, they had been bold.

    Cobblestones had glistened underfoot,
    Each step a whisper, soft and light,
    In the fog, they had sought what had been forgotten,
    Chasing echoes through the night.

    Creeping ivy had embraced old walls,
    Silent sentinels of time gone by,
    On foggy nights, the past had recalled,
    Whispering secrets to the sky.

    Phantom sighs in the alleyways,
    Guided by the moon’s faint glow,
    In the stillness of the foggy maze,
    A timeless prom, slow and low.

    Ancient oaths and broken vows,
    Hidden deep in the fog’s embrace,
    On foggy nights, they had whispered now,
    Lingering in every haunted place.

    From night to dawn, the fog had remained,
    A veil that had wrapped the town in lore,
    Foggy nights, where time had abstained,
    And mysteries had reigned forevermore.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • I Don’t Like Writing

    I Don’t Like Writing

    I Don’t Like Writing

    I don’t like writing
    Nevertheless, it is an unavoidable activity for me, such as breathing
    As long as silence talks to me, many impressions crowd into my mind
    Often I stay idle, wondering about random ideas
    But I am not able to rationalise all that is inscrutable
    It is as time shows me life in pictures
    Like a collection of many old miniature paintings
    Some of them are blurred
    And others are very unambiguous
    All those words of mine give only sporadic impressions about myself
    All those poems of mine are only fragments of me
    My poetry is accessible for everyone to read
    My poetry is not trapped in a book
    My poetry is absolutely a wild living thing that breaths
    Hence, I chose the freedom to express myself straightforwardly.
    Esther Racah

  • The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The Apotheosis Of My Illusions

    The apotheosis of my illusions
    When I pretend to conform to absurd customs
    Laying in an algid iron cage while I dream of freedom
    Trying to protect the essence of myself
    I cling to my excessive determination
    And once I release my scream of despair
    I become an ethereal creature
    Surrounded by glistening stars
    Gracefully I embrace my griefs
    Since I am made of my own dreams and anguishes
    Silently I compose my chant of foolishness
    Letting the oblivion fooling me
    Forgetting about who I am
    I become aware that eternity strokes my soul
    As I detach from the material finiteness
    All my senses melt like snowflakes
    As soon as I become part of the sublime
    Unwinding my dreams and avoiding all the chains
    I attempt to disentangle myself from my illusions.
    Esther Racah

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