untitled no.8. -by maria t.

I left the country

without thinking of you.


I watched the running landscape,

kind of free,

without thinking of you.

I sat, at a coffee shop’s window,

without thinking of you.

I drank my coffee,

without thinking of you.

I walked through the streets of a new city,

without thinking of you.

I had a conversation with someone,

without thinking of you.

I met new faces, without thinking of you.

I stared at the ceiling, while laying in bed,

without thinking of you.

I slept. And then I woke up,

without thinking of you.



Filed under Could it be nothing at all?

13 responses to “untitled no.8. -by maria t.

  1. Are you familiar with Jacques Prevert? If not, think about becoming familiar.

  2. εν φαντάζεσαι πόσο με εκφράζει τούτο που έγραψες… τζιαι διάφορα άλλα… ιδίως όμως τούτο

  3. babe u made it to paris?

    well done!!!

  4. achilleas

    na tis disoume pasto podi kanena GPS na vrethete gt enje eshei empistosyni…

  5. achillea mou inta chance eshei na kataferei na katalavei pos doulefki to GPS????

    adikos o kopos mas 😛

  6. achilleas and roam
    vou etes betes!

    thank you for telling me about him…
    i read some of his poems today, and will keep on reading!


  7. Wow… ur thinking of him/her/this/that alot!

  8. achilleas

    oi pou jinta GPS me othoni pou vriskeis to dromo, pou jina pou aplos ekpempoun sima gia na vlepeis pou enei pou to pc sou aspm, pou valloun se akriva autokinita, shillous ktl…

  9. lol i think you couldn’t say it better.

    stop thinking about it.

    i cant and I feel you

  10. I demand an arty post damn it!

  11. anonymous

    so to sum up..you stopped thinking about ‘him’. so have you started thinking of someone else?;p
    its the best poem i ve seen in months (and believe me..i love poetry )

  12. why thank you kind stranger…
    whoever you might be…
    wherever you might come from…

  13. poetry fan

    He poured the coffee
    Into the cup
    He poured the milk
    Into the cup of coffee
    He added the sugar
    To the coffee and milk
    He stirred it
    With a teaspoon
    He drank the coffee
    And put back the cup
    Without speaking to me
    He lit a cigarette
    He blew some rings
    With the smoke
    He flicked the ashes
    Into the ashtray
    Without speaking to me
    Without looking at me
    He got up
    He put his hat
    On his head
    He put on
    His raincoat
    Because it was raining
    He went out
    Into the rain
    Without a word
    Without looking at me
    And I
    I took my head
    In my hands
    And I wept

    Jacques Prévert

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