so where are you ?
where did you go ?
if i knew all i would have told you !
or if i knew all i would find you
see the life. it is burning right?
or is shining bright , walking why left my Mend
you were my reminder
now it feels outsider
i was your Survivor
now i'm a creeping blinder!
inspired from : Otnicka
Going from someone's reminder to an outsider in two lines is a hard drop, and I read that stanza twice. It sat right next to Wandering for you in my head, that one is out looking for somebody too.
The switch from reminder to outsider is the part I keep going back to. Also in First Drafts, Ilana is a short poem about someone half there and half imagined, if you want one to read next to it.
Reminder, outsider, survivor, blinder: the end rhymes walk the speaker further from the person who left with every line. Sounds like the missing one used to be what kept them steady.
Knowing it came out of Otnicka makes sense, the first two lines have that same echo as Where Are You.
Turning an Otnicka track into a poem about someone who left makes me think of how often a song is what holds a person in place for us after they go. My guess is the title answers the whole poem: the speaker keeps it, even without knowing where they went. Thanks for sharing this here!
Narration (over the radio, deep, solemn voice, punctuated by applause and crowd noise):
In 1968, 22-year-old Ken Higgins, an American soldier stationed at the Long Binh Base during the Vietnam War, met 17-year-old Twilon, a local Vietnamese woman. The two fell deeply in love, finding…
This is a short video on how to start the "macaquinho" jump in capoeira. Note: It wasn't possible to demonstrate it in a more expansive way; doing it on asphalt might be a problem. Practice makes…
Where is perfection really?
Blind Under the Dawn. Blind by the night lights. I am alone in this vast city, searching for my "self." I can hear distant beats, but the city is abandoned; there is no one to judge my tormented soul at this moment. I wander through the nights, avoiding the sun. The city is still cold and uninhabited; I lose myself in the dawn lights, feeling blind and empty. Always searching for my dark version. Here there are no judges, only sinners. I feel like a wild beast, where I can dance, drink, and hav
. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.
We see a world that is constantly at war; peace is just an accident. Peace is a sweet illusion, but superficial in the face of survival. Some say we live in war. Others say we do not. There are even…
In an unknown sector of the Tower, hidden beneath layers of concrete and silence, lay the chamber of the Ceres Security Council . Thousands of desks stood in mathematically precise rows. Men and…
Oh! where are you ?