Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ShallowSky
ShallowSky
20/M/Los Angeles Wanting to find the meaning behind the smallest things. Hopefully poetry helps with that :) / Amateur photographer on Instagram @ShallowSky
I have felt strange as of late In a way I have little inkling of Perhaps a state I shouldn’t remain in However, I seem to be unable to help myself I don’t mean it in any dramatic way As is seen in so many others I simply lay too insignificant for such relevance But perhaps this is where I find comfort In this strife of mine Quite a curious concept Amidst a world filled with those Who are controlled by their struggles I have the inordinate audacity To break bread with mine I have seen what these aspects can lead to Some call them demons, others refer to it more casually Not even by name, but by their candor Simple symptoms Quite like describing a fragrant rose I may be paradoxical in this Taking solace in that which is meant to cause my regression But I find sanctity in their resolution Inviting their debate Rather than rejecting their origin I travel these paths Joined not by those closest, as it should be Rather, by these subtle ghosts Haunting in their presence Yet warm in their embrace I am fortunate in this Finding this place to go In the nether of my mind Joining this table alongside these ‘demons’ Engrossed in my subtle chaos Overwhelmed by its aura Yet comforted in its presence
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
A Curious Feeling
I always found freedom in movement In the midst of steps Whether from music Or from the occurrence of those around In moments of reflection, I liked to think I was dancing I moved in between these sequences Fixed in the rules of performance Unable to think past this choreography Never able to make my own But I felt it only appropriate To move as others did One step forward A slight sway to the left Another turn to my right And back And back It was under this prison of routine I found myself in As in every other time But something changed in these steps As in now when I moved towards the next You stood in my wake I knew how different you were, placed to my standing You worried nothing of such structure Taking these movements as yours Away from those who claimed their fluidity Why you would ever take an interest in my polarized side Quite the oxymoron; I still can’t fathom Yet there you were Everywhere I moved Forcing me to look past these fixtures Stepping past their simplicities To find aspects I had thought foreign to me You showed me how wrong I was in this definition of ‘freedom’ One step forward, now two A sway left, although now with your hand in mine A counter to the other side Now with the opposing hand The most complete connection At least that’s what it felt to me Now that I think of that time There were changes greater than I could focus on Besides those most immediate I realize I never did step back Perhaps the most significant change As I haven’t since
0
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
One Step Forward
I always found freedom in movement In the midst of steps Whether from music Or from the occurrence of those around In moments of reflection, I liked to think I was dancing I moved in between these sequences Fixed in the rules of performance Unable to think past this choreography Never able to make my own But I felt it only appropriate To move as others did One step forward A slight sway to the left Another turn to my right And back And back It was under this prison of routine I found myself in As in every other time But something changed in these steps As in now when I moved towards the next You stood in my wake I knew how different you were, placed to my standing You worried nothing of such structure Taking these movements as yours Away from those who claimed their fluidity Why you would ever take an interest in my polarized side Quite the oxymoron; I still can’t fathom Yet there you were Everywhere I moved Forcing me to look past these fixtures Stepping past their simplicities To find aspects I had thought foreign to me You showed me how wrong I was in this definition of ‘freedom’ One step forward, now two A sway left, although now with your hand in mine A counter to the other side Now with the opposing hand The most complete connection At least that’s what it felt to me Now that I think of that time There were changes greater than I could focus on Besides those most immediate I realize I never did step back Perhaps the most significant change As I haven’t since
Continue reading...
47
You seem lost Whenever I encounter your presence No matter if you’re in the center of civility Or the most savage of circumstances Wandering in the midst of a world Obsessed with being found You roam In between the most extreme of situations Trying to join this crowd Who claim to be found To belong Yet, I wonder why you would wish to be normal Perhaps I haven’t been clear Watching you go through your journey Seeing these valleys you traverse Entranced in your delicate balance I wished you knew this: You have a place It’s not much Simple structure, empty space With no sign of anyone previous But still one I would show to no other Perhaps my hesitation lies thus In the mystification of why you would accept this place I do hope you know, however That it will remain A small oasis in the midst of the desert you travel Forever undisturbed For if you never find such a place To take shelter From the storm that rages around you There will be one awaiting Next to me
0
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
This Place
There was once a boy Full of energy And child-like tenderness The likes of which Could fill a room With the softest of light He thought this ability, Of bringing smiles To the grimmest of faces, A gift One of his own making He grew through this Giving these instances of joy Blind to the eternity of melancholy behind them Moving in a warm field Paying attention only to the most luscious of fruits While ignoring the weeds which flourished under Such a privilege he held Partaking in his life of ignorance Enraptured by the small moments He took to hold eternities He wandered in this garden Taken only to those colors most vivid While ignoring their insignificance But there comes a time When even the greatest of these colors pale Perhaps it was a greater shock to him To see past the earlier smiles And finally perceive The pain that lay behind Masked by the limpest of wrappings In order to prevent those outside To share in its burden He saw this The greatest of depths Fueled by his singular experience, perhaps cruel Most never see these depths Wrapped in similar worlds, Built on privilege and painkillers Never ripping off the bandage To experience the true pain behind He fell far Into this abyss of loathing Knowing not how others could live with it Eventually deciding He couldn’t It’s in these instances On the barrier between free fall And the climb’s first grip Which can either define an age Or extinguish its potential There was once a boy Aimless and despondent Holding the burden of experience Of the force barely held back by the bravest of smiles The likes of which Could empty the most vivid of souls With a blue acuteness But in the moment he could have succumbed to its impossibility He instead witnessed something similar, yet entirely unique: A smile Yet this one smiling, somehow, past the pain Holding both the curve of brittle lips And twinkle of eyes, ones which had seen it all There was once a boy Who grew thinking he knew joy Able to give it at his whim And when he found the truth behind this sentiment In the moment he may have succumbed to its inevitability He found where true joy was held Not in the smile of those pretending against the truth But in those who did so in the presence of it And the boy was no more As he fell To the Man who rose in his stead
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
There Was Once a Boy
There was once a boy Full of energy And child-like tenderness The likes of which Could fill a room With the softest of light He thought this ability, Of bringing smiles To the grimmest of faces, A gift One of his own making He grew through this Giving these instances of joy Blind to the eternity of melancholy behind them Moving in a warm field Paying attention only to the most luscious of fruits While ignoring the weeds which flourished under Such a privilege he held Partaking in his life of ignorance Enraptured by the small moments He took to hold eternities He wandered in this garden Taken only to those colors most vivid While ignoring their insignificance But there comes a time When even the greatest of these colors pale Perhaps it was a greater shock to him To see past the earlier smiles And finally perceive The pain that lay behind Masked by the limpest of wrappings In order to prevent those outside To share in its burden He saw this The greatest of depths Fueled by his singular experience, perhaps cruel Most never see these depths Wrapped in similar worlds, Built on privilege and painkillers Never ripping off the bandage To experience the true pain behind He fell far Into this abyss of loathing Knowing not how others could live with it Eventually deciding He couldn’t It’s in these instances On the barrier between free fall And the climb’s first grip Which can either define an age Or extinguish its potential There was once a boy Aimless and despondent Holding the burden of experience Of the force barely held back by the bravest of smiles The likes of which Could empty the most vivid of souls With a blue acuteness But in the moment he could have succumbed to its impossibility He instead witnessed something similar, yet entirely unique: A smile Yet this one smiling, somehow, past the pain Holding both the curve of brittle lips And twinkle of eyes, ones which had seen it all There was once a boy Who grew thinking he knew joy Able to give it at his whim And when he found the truth behind this sentiment In the moment he may have succumbed to its inevitability He found where true joy was held Not in the smile of those pretending against the truth But in those who did so in the presence of it And the boy was no more As he fell To the Man who rose in his stead
Continue reading...
75
I find myself lost in thought In moments curious About the wonders of those I lack any of Sometimes I wonder At these times I know not what to think of Searching for a path Embedded in the insanity I call my mind Undisturbed, until placed under the guise of my curiosity Sometimes I travel these paths It’s a unique feeling Finding pieces of myself I hadn’t known were shattered And beginning to build on what I hadn’t known Quite a complex puzzle I place regret in the lack of relation I hold with those who call me close Knowing I could never show them these pieces In the face of what they saw as whole Enveloped in their naïveté Sometimes I approach the ends of these paths Finding parts previously unknown And in certain cases Certainly unwanted But I realize their place in what I seek This path unfurls itself to me My mind slowly revealing itself to me Not as a continuous staircase Rather, an intricate river Fed by the kindness of many streams, many still unknown to me I close my eyes to these tunes Some playing to gentle piano keys Others to the harsh shattering of glass, perhaps something else And yet they all play in the same key Performing movements to the growth of my path Sometimes I lay terrified to these pieces I find Yet I still close my eyes Looking through the streams, paths, and interlaced insanities To find those pieces I haven’t yet placed together Reaching out to their neglected whimpers Sometimes I wonder whether this path is wise When most others ignore the streams, Choosing the clear way in front But then I think to who I am, and finally see Sometimes never has enough And I realize this The need for my Sometimes To become Always And perhaps it does Sometimes
0
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Sometimes
I find myself lost in thought In moments curious About the wonders of those I lack any of Sometimes I wonder At these times I know not what to think of Searching for a path Embedded in the insanity I call my mind Undisturbed, until placed under the guise of my curiosity Sometimes I travel these paths It’s a unique feeling Finding pieces of myself I hadn’t known were shattered And beginning to build on what I hadn’t known Quite a complex puzzle I place regret in the lack of relation I hold with those who call me close Knowing I could never show them these pieces In the face of what they saw as whole Enveloped in their naïveté Sometimes I approach the ends of these paths Finding parts previously unknown And in certain cases Certainly unwanted But I realize their place in what I seek This path unfurls itself to me My mind slowly revealing itself to me Not as a continuous staircase Rather, an intricate river Fed by the kindness of many streams, many still unknown to me I close my eyes to these tunes Some playing to gentle piano keys Others to the harsh shattering of glass, perhaps something else And yet they all play in the same key Performing movements to the growth of my path Sometimes I lay terrified to these pieces I find Yet I still close my eyes Looking through the streams, paths, and interlaced insanities To find those pieces I haven’t yet placed together Reaching out to their neglected whimpers Sometimes I wonder whether this path is wise When most others ignore the streams, Choosing the clear way in front But then I think to who I am, and finally see Sometimes never has enough And I realize this The need for my Sometimes To become Always And perhaps it does Sometimes
Continue reading...
50
I can remember the feeling As if a nostalgic memory Even though I held it Only a moment past It used to be so simple As easy as moving my eyes To look at you And feel the comfort Of your delicate warmth Perhaps I considered it too much a luxury Something to never change Growing under this familiar blanket No matter what I went through I felt a shift Almost subtle Of this weight I hold While once I could share it with you Now was held in solitude A lonely burden I find myself thinking back now Of these times past Wistful in my old naïveté Believing my past would reflect itself I feel it most in this reflection Where before I would see you standing there Next to me Never leaving hold Allowing me to be strong You would ask me these things Of where I perceived such strength When all along I wasn't strong at all As the one asking me held the answer I look sometimes Through the chaotic forest in my mind And wonder How I once believed You would be there to see it clear It's in these thoughts I find myself Honored for the time I had Solemn for the times now gone Even if it was only a moment past
0
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
A Moment Past
It seemed an unassuming crumb Wrenched from the grips of its mother loaf Left to crumble In the presence of those unaware But this morsel Would hail a story greater than that of its counterparts Lying in the focus of beings With a hunger more substantial Than this piece could ever satisfy Two ravens flew Independent of each other Without a care for one another Until they were enraptured by this: A small glimmer Of what could barely be consumed Perhaps on a normal day They would have ignored such an insignificant piece But this was different If only for the smallest detail However meaningless In another being present Eyeing the same insignificant morsel An observer of the two may have been surprised At the sudden dip of each creature Almost as if one existed as a mirror to the other Towards what seemed to be a random patch of the Earth Littered with the beauty of life’s variety But only a single speck holding their attention It was a vicious conflict Partaken by this pair of newfound rivals Involved in their intricate dance In a time, brief to those outside But a saga, spanning millennia, in their view In its cumulation, the matter of the victor became trivial As they lay upon this patch, once tranquil, The cost of such an insignificant piece now lay prevalent in their minds Their jealousy a sign of their true defeat
0
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
Two Ravens
In the minutes and hours flying by Interlaced in their quiet chaos I find myself wondering, Amidst this storm of experience, On moments past I find it curious How in these long expanses of time I become jealous of those Who can find the seconds instead Living for the moments which matter I drive sometimes Late at night And as the street lights illuminate me However fleetingly I imagine those moments As memories Ones I haven't had the honor to savor I sometimes lose control Of this concept of time I allow it to dictate my position And I forget About these moments Almost naïve In why I was ever jealous of them I see a shallow rim of water In the wake of my path But most times I don't see the ripples Around individual steps I look down and suddenly All that exists is a line of disturbed water Supposedly where I had stepped before I hope I find these moments These steps These seconds Illuminated by arbitrary street lights Standing in the wake of these ripples But this time Savoring their individual tenancies Interlaced in their quiet chaos
0
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
A Quiet Chaos
I hear of your struggles In every way You tell me of them Over and over and over And I feel mixed Twisted On one side honored You trust me enough to tell me But on the other side worried For how this consumes you I found you in the midst of Dark Shining as the brightest Light Undeterred by the greatest of evils And I was forever in awe As a moth to its light But instead of finding my solace in your warmth You dimmed Once withstanding anything thrown at you, But instead finding darkness to come From a place least expected: From those closest And the Dark took you Elated in its clever nature Now you complain Over matters you would have brushed aside I can see this aura around you While once filled with the greatest Light, Now lies tinged with specks of black And I can see it consuming you Perhaps I was naïve Searching for something different in our world A source of Light Rather than a consumer of it I’m glad I was able to witness your brilliance As it taught me many things No matter how brilliant your light, The greatest Light Only shows in times of the greatest darkness Beaming into the Dark A hopeless task Yet filled with the greatest Hope of all
0
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Greatest Light
I used to Whenever I went through any struggle I would make that same gesture And clasp my hands together As if begging for the smallest morsel That's what they told me to do "If ever you find yourself in strife, Find Him" And there were those times Where I looked And sought Him But never did He respond Not when she left Not when he ran away Not when they abandoned me Not when you said goodbye I clasped my hands every time They made a striking sound Bruising my hands with the force I would put on them As if squeezing harder could bring Him closer It was in tune though To the drips of cascading droplets I can hear them now "You must be good as that is how He wills it." Never do they ask How they could be good Simply for the sake of it Forever in the binds of His will I had forgotten back then What I wished my path to be I relied on His presence to dictate my all And in reality, I was walking forward To the rhythm of His tune But never opening my own senses To compose my own Perhaps He does exist And I hope He sees this all But I sha'nt live to please Him Only as a single note on his sheet I'll do what I believe And compose my own
0
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Him