I love flipping through the pages
of my old forgotten diary
I always had a hard time
keeping;
I love the callous fabric
of handmade paper which
is fixed strongly at the
right places;
I love the slightly torn
edges which have been
folded to be thoroughly
preserved;
I love the way I will give
it to a stranger one day and
have them flip the same
pages;
I love to run my hands
over each abrasion that
has been formed on every
third page;
I love glancing at the paper which
covers it, after every two seconds,
and then going back to the
pages inside.
They are empty.
Unexpected last line. Does it mean that you want to write but somehow have never been able to? Maybe because if you write it down it becomes more real and you don’t want it to be real… (I’m bad at poem interpretations)
LikeLiked by 1 person
There isn’t a bad interpretation.
And if you’d like to think so, then yes, why not?
Every interpretation is interesting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What’s your interpretation??
LikeLiked by 1 person
*I* have a meaning, interpretations are for the readers.
It means…
A lot of things and it’ll just spoil the beauty of poetry to tell you any one of its meanings.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oops my bad.
Well wherever you get you’re motivation from, it’s working well!
LikeLiked by 1 person
:3 thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
First entry….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Uhm. Im afraid I don’t quite understand.
LikeLike
To me, the poem “Favorites” was a hidden first entry, read, in the “diary”. The cover wrote it…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh wow.
That is very interesting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You cannot not like this, and I used two negatives together, but I don’t care. This is chilling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
:3 eheheh means a lot coming from you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So it goes like that-
You’re having a rather empty life, but you don’t regret it. Not anymore. Cz you’re tired of regretting. Now you have become a devil and you would give an empty life to any stranger and want them to embrace it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
:3 this is nice.
And chilling.
LikeLike
This is beautiful and powerful. Thank you for sharing it!
LikeLiked by 2 people
:3
LikeLiked by 1 person
(In tribute.) (And gratitude. I shall be posting this in due course.)
THE THIEF OF TIME
Sifting aimlessly and also – let’s be honest – wantonly
Through clouds of accumulations too cowardly to discard
Turned up an old page in some ancient long forgotten diary
Smothered in swiftly scribbled promising thought dreams
Up-bubbled marsh gas drawn into an eager greedy pipette
So easily distracted back then by each passing whimsy
Left them there gasping for breath like beached whales
A willing rescuer arrives years too late to find them
Evaporated
LikeLiked by 1 person
:3 Eva
Evaporated, indeed.
I love the sound of that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀 😀 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool! Sounds like how I used to keep a diary.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That would mean you didn’t.
LikeLike
But hey! I sorta did a bit. It was a very professorish diary.
LikeLike
Thank you for liking “Wildflowers” and “More Wildflowers.” I like keeping empty diaries too. 🙂 I want to actually live my life in the present moment, and I don’t care about recording my experiences in a personal history book.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wont you think it would nice to have them recorded?
The details, I mean?
I’m the kind of person who forgets too easily.
I would like a record.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I used to keep journals when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. I came across them years after I wrote them, and I did not like reading them. It was a painful and embarrassing experience for me. I did not want to remember how unhappy I was years ago, so I destroyed them.
However, I do not want to impose my opinions and beliefs on anyone else. If you enjoy keeping a diary and find it helpful, please do not let me discourage you from doing so. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm interesting
LikeLike
Nice little write and a cracking end line to perfectly cap it
LikeLiked by 1 person
:3
LikeLiked by 1 person