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Sunset burns
in my eyes
like a piece of nostalgia
not yet extinguished
at the border
of steel and soil
shadows stretch long
become a silent giant
bearing the weight of all these years
standing still in the fissure
of time
at the street corner where
town meets countryside
I remember the sparkling beach
waves murmur in foam
lapping the shores of memory
on the other side
it's the roar of bulldozers
the arousal of city’s neon
sinking into a soft sofa
is what many dwellers here call life
two souls twist in the night
loneliness heavier than our skeletons
two unfamiliar thoughts pressed
in a momentarily illusion
breaths synced like a metronome
falling and rising
searching for any place to land
wind tapping the windowpane
bringing the paleness of dawn
behind us
who are numb to the passion
mountains stretch on
silent and strong
lifting a vast sky
beneath it all
is the weave of city and country
the tangle of dreams and reality
and the countless footsteps
of the faceless
setting out again, fading down the hall
in the morning
faint click of a door
sealing off the shape of
a little comfort.
The city is dead
Like thunder shouting into
The infinite blue.
Heyyy i'm perhaps coming back! It's been a while and pretty busy with AP exams and all that. Also a loss of creative inspiration. What poetic form should I use next?
I watch the traffic through cigarette smoke,
That dances with sighs frosted by winter,
Released into the cold, electric air
By strangers standing close, yet all alone.

And through the blurry neon reflections,
Cast on windows adorned with icicles,
Where the colors bleed along frozen panes,
Something that shouldn’t be there caught my eye.

I thought I saw your shape form in the glass,
But ghosts don’t walk beneath the city lights,
Waiting for someone to follow behind
And lead them through forgotten memories.

Yet no one turns as the traffic drones on,
As I leave to light one more cigarette
And walk by the glass where you might have been,
Where my ghost joins yours in the cold window.
©️2025 David Cornetta
As neon pulses through a sleepless night,
The sidewalks bustle with wandering ghosts,
And vapor rises — a mist of pale steam
From streets that glint beneath an autumn rain.

I see a woman in a ruby coat;
Her shadow pools round her feet, like spilled ink,
As she tries to mouth a name through the haze —
A name unheard over the subway’s groan.

She’s gone before the streetlights flicker, but
Her shadow lingers a moment longer,
Stretching out beneath the gilded lamplight —
But was she ever even there at all?

No answer falls with the September rain,
No hint comes drifting on the pallid mist.
And still the train rumbles on unconcerned,
And I can’t recall why she had mattered.

The neon curdles within its veins,
While darkness swallows the ruby echo,
And I walk these streets among the phantoms,
To fade at last into the night once more.
©️2025 David Cornetta
If buses rattle over streets
At least you jounce on comfy seats.  
Imagine a divan
Made from a frying pan
Or griddles cushioned by felt sheets.
Zywa May 17
In narrow alleys,

people cling close together --


escaping the sun.
Collection "Local interest"
RRey May 13
It is the year where sky forgot blue,
Where trees are myths and grass untrue.
Cities stretch like steel-born gods,
But hearts inside beat with no odds.

Clones walk straighter than men once did,
Smiling soft with secrets hid.
They do not lie, they do not bleed—
Perfect servants to human greed.

No prayers now, no gods to call,
Just neon faith on a digital wall.
Churches are bars, mosques are screens,
Hope sold in pixelated dreams.

Rain falls black, with silver tint,
As if the sky forgot to rinse.
But still, it falls—gift or guilt?
A mercy from a heaven spilt.

The air is cold, but not from snow,
From silence, smoke, and things we know:
That love is rare, and trust extinct,
And touch is just a nervous link.

And me?
I walk the ashlight street,
My feet the last to feel this beat.
No god, no green, no truth to find—
Just broken stars in humankind.
It's about the future That's comming soon...
Steve Page May 12
Imagine no shadows, no night.
All light
everywhere.
No need for shade.
For we are all basking
in one all enveloping
Light.

And we shall see his face.
A pause on Revelations 22 vv 4 and 5.  Blows my mind.
City buses bounce and jolt
As though to loosen every bolt.  
The shocks must be missing,
A leak would be hissing.  
Or is it the potholes at fault?
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