In the city of poets
The ghosts freely sleep
Dreaming of life
Its touch and to weep
Over memories to turn
In deep waves to roll
Moments in slumber
The mind and the soul.
The hard brick walls
A refuge to imprison
Those scattered words
Afloat in a prism
The dusty ground groans
Footsteps imprinted
From those now remembered
By thought embittered.
To reach upward arms
And eyes to cold sky
Each star is a wish
That flickered to die
Deep breaths of night
As lovers embrace
Lost to fortune
Trapped in their fate.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: May 7th, 2026 01:36
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 53
- Users favorite of this poem: Cindy, arqios, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS, Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments6
A fine write N. Did you take a bus trip to the city?! lol.
I got a taxi, the bus stop was deserted, only dead poets lol
Beautiful words, images and thoughts accompany this surreal creation of another place. Well done
most kind, thanks and appreciation for the read
You are most welcome Norman
...ooh, a city! Ann immediate favourite 🕊️🙏
too kind, thanks always appreciated
Most welcome 🙏🏻🕊️
Well written. Your poem explores themes of memory, loss, and the passage of time within the context of a city filled with poets. It reflects on the emotional weight of recollection and the fleeting nature of life, as well as the desire for connection that often remains unfulfilled.
many thanks for reading, always much appreciated
My friend, this feels like wandering empty streets after everyone else has gone home…left alone with memory, regret, and fragments of old dreams. There’s a deep loneliness here that feels very real. Powerful piece, Norman. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanking you for reading, always much appreciated my friend
Super words Norman in a place within our minds.
Andy
most kind, appreciated, thanking you
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