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Thomas W Case
There's a little
boy that hides in
the dark corners of
my soul.
He doesn't want to
be hurt anymore.
I spent eight years
with Beth.
For the most part,
it was hell and
constant pain.
She made nightmares
look good.
I heard the
little boy cry
late into the
silky night,
while snails got
smashed on the streets
of Ventura.

When I drank, which was often,
the little boy seemed
at peace for awhile,
while swans were
murdered in Venice,
and I tasted the ashes
of Neruda.
Years flew by
like seagulls;
and darting.
The little boy
continued to
hide in the
dark corners of my soul.

He wanted to
come out and be loved.
He was thirsty for it,
but there wasn't
any around.
It was dry, like the
deserts in hell.
It's too late for
sorries, here comes
the plow.

He began to see
the pattern of life.
There are monsters
that walk in the light.
Vulnerability equals pain.
The little boy got mean.
And now he carries
a knife.
i'm a self destructive person

so i relate to the lines

'fine, make me your villain'

because sometimes i'll make myself the villain on purpose

because i think it's easier than letting someone try to forgive me

maybe i really am the villain
now i've lost two of my best friends as well as my ex-girlfriend. but do i really care? i don't know. god i ******* hate myself.
I see the face and soul of everyone

Fathers mothers daughters sons

The lies and truths that you create

Build the foundation of your own faith

A warning for all for your end is near

For some rejoice but many will fear

Time moves slow yet much too fast

The young wait to see the future

The old beg to relive the past

Soon we all have to face our fate

For now we鈥檙e all jesters of love and hate
All along I knew you were the one

From the very first day == till the very last day

A heart like yours is hard to find and hard to resist

Sleep tight ==here in my mind

All your love is all I've ever known

and all I'll ever need
Learn how to see the beauty in life
Beautiful things are worth living for
Even if the beauty is terrifying
Olan Douglas Webb
Oh,you are my goddess
A golden angel in the sky
I gave traveled
For eons and eons
To see your face
And take your hand
And thrill
At the touch of your skin
Heart to heart
And kiss to kiss
I shall follow you
Into eternity
For I have known you
For eternities past
And shall know you
For eternity to come
And forever
Our loving embrace
Shall forever live.
The Ink Well
i鈥檓 so afraid I鈥檒l lose you
A person addicted
an abuser of substance,
slave to poison.
Pursuing an intoxicating dream-

Is it truly preposterous,
the desire to escape reality.
Leaving behind the the grey
of a long forgotten world.

White lines, like snow
paving the path to a baseless illusion.
A ticket out
even if only transitory.

Sam Lawrence
Snow arrived,
quite suddenly.
The city fell
to silence:
softness flurried,
whiteness spread.
Our footsteps
punched a rhythm:
crisp heel, crisp toe.
Steaming cars slid past
in slush, peeling back
the long black road.
The trees drooped:
tears splattered on
the streets, but
still my heart
lay cold.
Oliverio Girondo
El no
el no in贸vulo
el no nonato
el noo
el no poslodocosmos de impuros ceros noes que noan noan noan
y nooan
y plurimono noan al morbo amorfo noo
no d茅mono
no deo
sin son sin **** ni 贸rbita
el yerto in贸seo noo en unisolo am贸dulo
sin poros ya sin n贸dulo
ni yo ni fosa ni hoyo
el macro no ni polvo
el no m谩s nada todo
el puro no
sin no
Mr Shankley
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
A Howell
your lips remind me of the bottle of ros茅
we shared on a cold November night,
full-bodied and lush
when i kiss you, i taste hints of citrus.

my lips on yours, full of passion, burning,
it reminds me of the cigarette you smoked
during the intermission of the play we watched last January,
as bright red embers, burn bright, keeping you warm.

you are my addictions,
my nicotine and wine.
We had it so good
So what happened to us
Well in came the flood
And we drifted away
On an ocean of disarray
This short poem creates a scene between two people in love who have drifted apart as their love slowly dies written from the perspective of their love being an ocean
There is a commitment to an act of resilience
A sense of peace that every act will be as it stands
Like the ever evolving stage door
Closing behind the end of a line that has been said off hand by a player
In his complexity

They know
The end is nothing more
Then a beginning near

I don鈥檛 claim to pretend I know
The safety of that harbor
It will come to me
One day
I shall
Keep you close to home
Even when uncertainty
feels like its wrapping me up
In protection wear
Aviators block the feedback

Blankets of snowy days
And timeless months
Out of nowhere

As The bloom comes

Because all the men and women merely players: have their exits and their entrances
One man in his time plays many parts
As his acts become all of his ages
Jon York
Inside you

is where I want to



within the folds

of your mind


the sweet softness

of your soul,


as I release my love

deep within you.
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Jon York聽聽 2019.
Where have you gone, little child
鈥攎y little child
You told me all your secrets
but never told me your plans
and was it nothing to you?
鈥攁ll those golden weeds we plucked
and laughs that bloomed
I should鈥檝e built you a castle out of it all鈥

I should鈥檝e covered the windows with dry leaves
and letters
I know well of the temptation, but
what was ever so promising in that hazy night?
My little bird,
didn鈥檛 I teach you how to fly
didn鈥檛 I adorn your feathers with petals
鈥攁nd poems
I wrote tales for your wings and
Will this be your repay?

What of the endless hills we sailed over
All the gleaming waters we kissed
I should鈥檝e built you a kingdom out of it all鈥
We could鈥檝e been queens of a starry land yet
here we are

I sit with the weeds, they chew away our lilies
you have long run away
with the dark
and the world is dry鈥
the world is dry without you.
bird in me鈥
Katrina Carreck
Come to sleep
Drift with me in gentle landscapes
Of obscure velvet death

Our void of clouded minds
Contributes to our crimson love

This comfort I find in your death grip
You seem to save it for times like this
Our moments of becoming

Follow my skeletal fingers
Into the the icy realm
Of eternity
And silence
Old writing
phil roberts
Nothing drastic
Nothing pure
Noble stains
Distinct liquid drinking
Slipping and seeping
Coming calm in the world
Knowing nothing
Calling into air
Certain and uncertain motion
Always motion
Interior rivers pulse
Ancient wisdom
Irresistably stretching
Infinitely entwined
Endlessly on

聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽By Phil Roberts
Mark Wanless
gods walk among us
no here is just a mirror
we creators all
Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.
Some people die every second
A day.
still live聽聽even after their death.
Their life has no end.
I feel out of breath.
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
聽聽Not a single!
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
Strange, the Hellopoetry computer demanded I put two stars on this poem to repost it to the front page... But it was worth it, it鈥檚 been on here for over a year now, I appreciate it Elliot.

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
Ian Dunn
I made this for you
It's not much
Just a paper flower
Folded with care

I could've gone to the store
Picked one out
Found the most beautiful flower
And bought it just for you

But this one has something special
It has my heart and soul in it
A piece of me
that's just for you

This is more than just a flower
This is my gift to you
I want you to have it
So a piece of me will always be with you
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
your too cute for me
maybe even too cute for this ugly society

if I take your hand
will you let me hold it?

if I kiss your lips
will you kiss mine back?

when sadness calls me
will you lend me your smile?

sometimes I think your to sweet
other times your just too cute
I know you.
Sometimes you say things, expecting that I won鈥檛 understand, and I think it鈥檚 strange because
I know you.
That鈥檚 what this is. I know you,
And I want you,
And I care about you
Don鈥檛 want no one else.
You might not know me,
The stanchions you use to prop yourself up eating all that I have fed you,
In the darkness,
In the night,
But I know you.
And I want you anyway.
David P Carroll
The moon shines bright
Through the trees at night

And we can鈥檛 see in the dark
But we can dream all
Through the night

As the wind blows so strong tonight
And the rain falling down
All through the night

And the moon peeking
through the trees is so
Beauitful and bright.
Night 馃寖馃寜
euphoric jinx
i'm so sorry if anyone has ever made you feel like its hard to love you
i love you
They鈥檇 waited too long to say

鈥淚 love you鈥.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they鈥檇 done it, they wouldn鈥檛,
couldn鈥檛, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other鈥檚 end game.  
rig f laurel
when i died the first time
inhaling an ocean
they said
this was not the plan
turn back.

and when i did
i tried to fly with no lessons
nor wings
and they called me

but i came round
and sought a chainsaw
and then a mermaid
and then death herself
i think she was

and each time
they said the same thing
over and over and over and over:
wrong destiny. wrong destiny.
go again.

the instructions are in a language i do not possess.
erica lynn
and you don鈥檛 know what to do
with my scissors at your service

you chop my hair off
i grow it back on purpose
my birthday was today and i made myself a frog cake

anyway this is another part of the song i'm writing inspired by the end of the ******* world, i actually really like how it's turning out so far :)
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
Ileana Amara
饾拪饾挄'饾挃 饾拑饾拞饾拞饾拸 饾挃饾拞饾挆饾拞饾拸 饾拵饾拪饾拸饾挅饾挄饾拞饾挃 饾拸饾拹饾挊 饾挃饾拪饾拸饾拕饾拞 饾懓 饾拲饾拹饾挃饾挄 饾拵饾挌 饾挊饾拏饾挌
饾拪饾挄 饾拝饾拹饾拞饾挃饾拸'饾挄 饾挃饾拞饾拞饾拵 饾挄饾拤饾拏饾挄 饾拲饾拹饾拸饾拡, 饾拑饾挅饾挄 饾拵饾挌 饾挊饾拤饾拹饾拲饾拞 饾挊饾拹饾挀饾拲饾拝 饾拤饾拏饾挃 饾拕饾拤饾拏饾拸饾拡饾拞饾拝.
01.25.21. | just a play of words from a song with a deeply embedded memory.
I鈥檓 made of rubber
Worn thin over time                        
Used over and over                                            
My heart is elastic,                                                                                    
It snaps back into                                                                      
Place, but it breaks                                                
When your blade gets                
Too sharp.

I feel like a balloon,
Floating some days                                                      
Then punctured on            

Mend me,                                                              
Breathe me                                
Back to life鈥
Jack R Fehlmann
I don't need to view as they do.
For they are as giants
My measure is less and
I am alright with this.
I'm a work in progress
To become more yet.

Here I am;
Guessing and
Playing games with my hands,
As my feelings spill out
In front of me.

Carved my skin
A little thin
From my heart to my hands.
Then my nails dug in
A little deep.

Here I am;
In the sand,
Playing games with my hands,
As my feelings make patterns
On the ground.

I poured myself
inside your cup
pretended to be tea
your lips pursed to the rim
burning kiss
bile churns
you forgot
I'm made of sins
Ashly Kocher
The creative process is a journey in which we follow our desires within ourselves being empathetic as empaths, naturally from the raw state of mind...
Luna Maria
are the ink
for the pen
a poet uses
to write
- L.M.
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