Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Want to submit your work? Request an invite
Diary of Jane
It doesn't make a sound
when it breaks
but it hurts the loudest.
sometimes I see it
the other side

sometimes its like I'm really there
one of them


why do I wake up from the dream

when this nightmare

has gone on

for so long
Poetic Eagle
I thought l would use their judgements
As inspiration
But it's not enough motivation
Maybe l grow with being judged
Ammar Younas
You're complicated
as Algebra equation
for a law student
I'm a lavender,
wild and vibrant.
I am the fragrance
that fills your lungs,
with every breath you intake.
I'm beauty in chaos.
I am a soothing lullaby.

But you prefer roses,
Soft and red,
petals that you could let
your fingers linger.
With **** and desire,
no trust;
a love that is a blazing fire.
i can love you better than her.
Bruce Levine
Meditation in motion
Slow locomotion
The torch of devotion
She's ready.
He isn't.
She's willing to take the risk.
He isn't.

"I love you."
He whispered to no one
While watching her
Walk down the aisle
With her father
And him as a visitor.
our love is quiet and comfortable
happy and safe
my home is in your heart
short but sweet.
i keep things to myself,
                                   and still feel empty.
oh, how twisted language can be.
irony twisted bottle up
Crandall Branch
Society says I am bad
they are all FOOLS

just because i have the coorage
to dryve at 300 miles pur hour on the freeway

I am smart like Jeesus
Yuo are just sad
Jello Watson
I know that you're sad
And I feel your pain
I know they broke your heart
Left you drowning in rain

I know that you've found him
And I'm happy too
I know you're delighted
Watching sunsets, him and you

I know that you're frustrated
And I feel your anger
I know what she did
The worst kinds of slander

In all of this, know that I'm here
Know that I feel it, these feelings that chain
I saw it, I heard it, I felt it with you
Know that what happens doesn't happen in vain
~ Jello Watson
I draw..
I draw a feather
I draw a feather?
Because they are beautiful?
Because they are easy to draw?
Or do I draw a simple feather because it is not so simple?
Our hugs -  such subtle soft candlelight;
The wick roots deeper still into our navel
One waft, we flicker -
Sharing supple warmth
in shadowy night.
Bless Senora
The room was ineffably dark,
The silence was deafening,
It was safe to say that I was utterly alone..

I walked,
And walked,
Until I could walk no longer.
I was searching
Searching for something that I don't know.

It was still dark
It was still silent
I was still alone.

It made no sense to continue any longer.
So I stopped.
And I waited,
Until waiting made no more sense.

And then He came..
First a glimmer,
And then a beam,
And then the room lit up,
Both suddenly and slowly.

He offered His hand and I took it.
Relief came unannounced.
The darkness,
The chasing,
The waiting,
And ultimately the surrender--
They all made sense.

There is beauty in surrender.
CK Baker
Covenant park central
parallel, east-side west
waiting on the
print defender
(and Lichaten queen)
he appeared randomly
and distorted
(with a broken smile)
shuffling down
the Smithright trail
with his Mac Tack
and cinnamon shades
(sun bags and thrift ware
stacked three high
on a rusted rat trap)

An open sided
Sears panel van
crashes the curb
as a longboarder
dodges the snail,
takes his drag
and flips away the but
the plumb maple
and sunbeam double wide
hold steady in the fish eye
as the toothless carny
and tire-less 510
shine brilliantly
in the dripping distance
we tried living in each others skin
- birds, fish, lizards, cows, sheep, men, women

and discovered we all feel pain.
theres no stars out
so i make them with the spots on my windows
theres a train and i realize im not alone
every day feels more real
Zoe Mae
I wish I never met you

I wish I could forget you

I hate saying I regret you

But you hurt me and I let you
a mcvicar
i try **** too hard
to be astract, weird and free
but in the end im just lonely old me
" That's just me "

You’ll hear her say

" I am lesser than beautiful "
I refuse to believe that
I am of worth
What exactly am I?

A courageous soul who is unapologetically herself

Well, the truth is
I look in the mirror to only see
My reflections disappoint
No longer can I say that
My beauty radiates from within

now read from bottom to top
Left Foot Poet
a thousand brilliant lies
(Hafez, Iran 1320-1389);      (L.F.P., USA 20~21st century)

- Hafez -                                 - Left Foot Poet-

“I have a                                  if only, in my meager posses,
thousand brilliant lies,          but one lie when easy asked
For the question:                    the simplest damning of,
How are you?                          are you generally happy?

I have a                                    what is *** you ask,
thousand brilliant lies.          no lies required,
For the question:                    many answers upon my face visible,
What is ***?                          unsure if any worthy of believing

If you think that the               8 centuries separate us, yet
Truth can be known,              you lie; we poets - you, I, all believe

From words                             in the divinity of words

If you think that the                a thousand brilliant sparkles
Sun and the Ocean,                 when Sun loves the Ocean,
Can pass through that            each one a poem passing,
tiny opening Called                my mouth, my wide eyes,
the mouth,                                uttering a Cohen's hallelujah

O someone should                 So we gleam, mirthing in glorious
start laughing!                         and gleeful delight at ourselves
Someone should start             for your brilliant happy lies easily
wildly Laughing Now!"       
­                            unravel into a thousand laughs
There was something of October that reminded me to make sure you were still there. In the morning when I woke I rolled to your side to see you breathing softly and slowly like a babies first good nights rest. Something about last October reminded me of when he left without a warning or a note that I could crumple up and burn in a fire full of depression and self doubt. I curled up in the armchair facing you just watching you stay and promise to never let go. I wanted my old lover to be that way too, I wanted him to walk on fall leaves and sip cinnamon tea as the nights grew longer as time went. I wished upon a lonely star that he would be just like you but all the hoping turned into sorrow for nothing but his shoe prints were left upon the bottom stair and a string of his curly hair on my rain jacket.
He left me but you stayed
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
Hearts break
when people change
but feelings stay the same.
All I ask is the moon on a stick,
It is my one desire.
To hold it’s yellow glow in my hands.
To admire it for it’s imperfections.

No one seems to be able to give me the moon,
Is it really that much to ask?
It’s just one little circle in the sky,
I only want it for a little while.
And would anyone really miss it?

All I ask for is the moon on a stick,
So I can give it to you.
A little poem based on a conversation I had with a friend
Idemo onda zajedno u svijet.

Ja, ti i tko *** pridružiti se želi. Idemo dalje od samih sebe

dok ne nabasamo na nedoseživo.
I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if that love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts that they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
Because you broke me
And I was looking for different fingers
To place different pieces and hoping
That the outcome would be a masterpiece
That maybe one of them would find a way
To cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself that you wouldn't be the only one
That the scars that mark my body wouldn't define my worth to be loved
I am still not entirely sure that you aren't the only one
Who could ever touch me

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- I am hoping one of them will show me
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay
i see the world unlike no one else.
i look for the different.
the rainbow hair.
the tears in the eyes.
the scars burning the soul.
He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry
It is
It is
It is
It isn't
Or is it
Piyush Gahlot
We only love once in our lifetime,
Others are just to forget the very first one.
you can change my mind
but you can’t change my heart
if i die i’ll die fighting
patty m
Poets don't pick the time or place, or the state of their lives.  Some write while trying to STAY ALIVE in a hellhole state of abuse. And yes like the homeless man on the street They don't mouth words, they write guts, and gall, and bruises, They write love, and levity and crazy rants or bits and pieces of hope and dreams. Poetry is escape, it's the other side of the mirror, the place of sanity/insanity and escape.
Tinny whine
by design
a wind-chime
words are snowing
trumpets blowing
where's the rhymer
the man who writes lines for two bucks
what the f- - k
Once poets were revered
now they sear through the mind
refined or unrefined, no
loving valentine.
And still I read in awe
chewing on a straw
drinking all the thoughts in
how does one begin to absorb
it all?
The aches the pain, the non-monetary gain,
the romance, and happenstance,
As to the question
Who writes poems like this?
the words were uttered like a breathless kiss

not a reprimand, or justification
supplication to that
unholy state of upper-hand,
on demand, testamentary of
vocabulary signature of solemn state
in which one contemplates tone and
that alone designates the way
one whispers when truly touched
by poetry that says so much.

Who writes poems like this?
I seek to amend,

Only the very best my friend
text is so easy to misunderstand, when one can't hear the tone expressed.  
How can emptiness be so heavy?
The truth is,

        I'll never find someone
        who despises me
        as much as myself

        and I'll never be able
        to let someone love me,
        'cause they said

        "you have to love yourself first,
              before anyone else does"

But what if I'll never do?
A condition I'll never meet
Star BG
Defining self with a name,
is too limiting
to one's own grand nature.

Better yet define yourself with the rising sun
that shines even behind cloudy days.
A river that flows freely with swirling gracefulness.
Or even, the universal heart that plays  sacred song
anointing one to dance.

Yes if I was to define myself,
I would connect with Mother Earth
and celebrate in breath
to live each moment as a gift.
Inspired by chat with B
It is impossible to give what you do not have,
Therefore,if you do not have love. You can not love,
If you do not love yourself,you can not love another.
the rivers pouring from her eyes
water her roots
planting her more firmly
into rock bottom
while she
is up
the sleeves
that saki
gratifies here
and while
her attire
still cleaves
in my
heart that
mistook a
hint of
glamour whether
or not
this thirst
is all
it takes
Next page