amiablejay - Hello Poetry

the universe craves creation an explosion, a dark bang the universe also harbors a fondness for taking it all away. sing to me oh beautiful sway sway sway

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Mar 13, 2025

Mar 13, 2025 at 12:04 PM UTC

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the universe craves creation an explosion, a dark bang the universe also harbors a fondness for taking it all away. sing to me oh beautiful sway sway sway

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Its a small dream kisses and pancakes laughs and kids on my shoulders its a small dream hands held on dreary wet Sunday mornings a dream, so close dying with each breath a small token a dear word a dying breath... a dream of forever of tomorrow, of maybe a future.

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Nov 26, 2022

Nov 26, 2022 at 2:38 AM UTC

It's A Small Dream

Its a small dream kisses and pancakes laughs and kids on my shoulders its a small dream hands held on dreary wet Sunday mornings a dream, so close dying with each breath a small token a dear word a dying breath... a dream of forever of tomorrow, of maybe a future.

17

It didn't last, as an explorer searching the stars is doomed to die, in wanderlust Katahdin cast a deep shadow, that kissed the essence of being but it didn't last Again I'm here with my cup and pack in this weary hole in the ground Spilling words to nobody in particular, with no true meaning other than simple release This won't last either, it'll be buried by others burdens, more meaningful ones Mine is simply that of being alive, when I never asked to be Paying taxes I never agreed to, paying to be just live, when I never ******* accepted the contract but here I am, in a world of others ideals mine get pushed aside for their own but I can rest easy knowing that like all else it won't last.

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Jan 11, 2017

Jan 11, 2017 at 8:24 AM UTC

It Won't Last

It didn't last, as an explorer searching the stars is doomed to die, in wanderlust Katahdin cast a deep shadow, that kissed the essence of being but it didn't last Again I'm here with my cup and pack in this weary hole in the ground Spilling words to nobody in particular, with no true meaning other than simple release This won't last either, it'll be buried by others burdens, more meaningful ones Mine is simply that of being alive, when I never asked to be Paying taxes I never agreed to, paying to be just live, when I never ******* accepted the contract but here I am, in a world of others ideals mine get pushed aside for their own but I can rest easy knowing that like all else it won't last.

21

Dreams may carry off your existence As leaves playing a symphony for the remissive Spiral shadows dancing lonely with dear Moon O' Love of my desire taken sweetly by the tune Too soon, too soon On this day dreams may fly with blackbirds to their true graves Our way of being Our way of life Gave way to the power of sunlight Thus spoke the Sun and the Moon

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Aug 31, 2016

Aug 31, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC

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Dreams may carry off your existence As leaves playing a symphony for the remissive Spiral shadows dancing lonely with dear Moon O' Love of my desire taken sweetly by the tune Too soon, too soon On this day dreams may fly with blackbirds to their true graves Our way of being Our way of life Gave way to the power of sunlight Thus spoke the Sun and the Moon

14

We are simple bone, tobacco in lung and chin bone there's this theory that a man sits high, in a golden throne well above us We crack knuckles bruised from brawls and caked with the earth's mud yet, no matter the stake this almighty, sits in his throne Does he weep for the lost? I think not He created us as matter of fact with clay and sun, and indeed with wisdom bestowed upon even the ignorant None understand, and it is the great feral sin Man is nothing you see, you are nothing we are the beast the tales late at night your mothers warned you of the ones your fathers left late at night to slay we are the monsters smile for this fact for being the beast gives you the reason to smile

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Jul 17, 2016

Jul 17, 2016 at 4:15 AM UTC

Born As The Beast

We are simple bone, tobacco in lung and chin bone there's this theory that a man sits high, in a golden throne well above us We crack knuckles bruised from brawls and caked with the earth's mud yet, no matter the stake this almighty, sits in his throne Does he weep for the lost? I think not He created us as matter of fact with clay and sun, and indeed with wisdom bestowed upon even the ignorant None understand, and it is the great feral sin Man is nothing you see, you are nothing we are the beast the tales late at night your mothers warned you of the ones your fathers left late at night to slay we are the monsters smile for this fact for being the beast gives you the reason to smile

32

Why oh why Won't it flow my ambitions always give in too the show the great stage of losing battles rivers of stone the stars sing sad songs for you Whistle along dear ambition forgive them all for they knew they were not wrong cable cars dreaming of unattached freedom too see what lies beyond the simple pavement dare for that dream sweet ambition shot through the heart and dying ever so slowly rockets failed to reach stratosphere Why oh why Won't it flow my ambitions always give in too the show

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Jul 10, 2016

Jul 10, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC

The Show

Why oh why Won't it flow my ambitions always give in too the show the great stage of losing battles rivers of stone the stars sing sad songs for you Whistle along dear ambition forgive them all for they knew they were not wrong cable cars dreaming of unattached freedom too see what lies beyond the simple pavement dare for that dream sweet ambition shot through the heart and dying ever so slowly rockets failed to reach stratosphere Why oh why Won't it flow my ambitions always give in too the show

30

It's early morning time spring is blooming as do our bodies It's evening time the moon is shining as do our fire time stories Quelling the evil that lurks deep in our bosoms to keep it from the Rise We often forget, that first mistake The heartbeat starts small in the chest pulsating with the rhythm of the wind We are invincible until catastrophe Until the cacophony of the heartbeat Will Rise maddeningly into the throat It's in these small moments of demise that our bodies ache to be ethereally eternal When the blood cloaks our eyes into the everlasting abyss that once we came screaming out of, that we slowly Rise back into We may not last; our legacies may neither Just do one thing for me Remember to eat your grapefruit for the bitter can taste sweet After bitter time spent Perhaps you can rest easy

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May 17, 2016

May 17, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC

Rise

It's early morning time spring is blooming as do our bodies It's evening time the moon is shining as do our fire time stories Quelling the evil that lurks deep in our bosoms to keep it from the Rise We often forget, that first mistake The heartbeat starts small in the chest pulsating with the rhythm of the wind We are invincible until catastrophe Until the cacophony of the heartbeat Will Rise maddeningly into the throat It's in these small moments of demise that our bodies ache to be ethereally eternal When the blood cloaks our eyes into the everlasting abyss that once we came screaming out of, that we slowly Rise back into We may not last; our legacies may neither Just do one thing for me Remember to eat your grapefruit for the bitter can taste sweet After bitter time spent Perhaps you can rest easy

24

My heart is homeless on the paved streets of man, the screaming machines and metal birds that never die. All the noise, no beats, no rhythm just the noise, that continually toils, swirls in my mind. Then I finally find it, the great wood the ocean of tree, life, and more importantly of music. Such sweetening tones, all coherent and vibrant and also so sad. For this sanctuary is being eaten alive by the metal beasts built by flesh and blood to destroy the peaceful. Man is my worst lover, no tenderness, no love. Selfish until the end, and the end is nigh. For many wish to return to the almighty wood and never speak of the metal beasts again.

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC

The metal beasts

My heart is homeless on the paved streets of man, the screaming machines and metal birds that never die. All the noise, no beats, no rhythm just the noise, that continually toils, swirls in my mind. Then I finally find it, the great wood the ocean of tree, life, and more importantly of music. Such sweetening tones, all coherent and vibrant and also so sad. For this sanctuary is being eaten alive by the metal beasts built by flesh and blood to destroy the peaceful. Man is my worst lover, no tenderness, no love. Selfish until the end, and the end is nigh. For many wish to return to the almighty wood and never speak of the metal beasts again.

3

we were born of blood and bone pieces of jigsaws never seems to be fitting waterfalls missing their endings sunshine always going far far from their planets and hitting, the small ones, the ones we've long since forgotten! so these missing pieces picked up in the lonesome sand, we gave them names and wished them the best of luck in the eternal lands, hoping one, someday would write our names wherever they landed. somewhere far from here.

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Mar 7, 2016

Mar 7, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC

blood

we were born of blood and bone pieces of jigsaws never seems to be fitting waterfalls missing their endings sunshine always going far far from their planets and hitting, the small ones, the ones we've long since forgotten! so these missing pieces picked up in the lonesome sand, we gave them names and wished them the best of luck in the eternal lands, hoping one, someday would write our names wherever they landed. somewhere far from here.

12

There she was, unrelenting eyes bold like midnight bonfires. There I was, small, insecure, rotting wood on a beach side. She asked me to dance, and I hesitated bound between desire and humility. Her mouth contorted into a smile, and my heartbeat ran as wild stallions toward the cliff. One last good fight, one last dream to keep me alive. There she stood, porcelain hands glowing by the porch lights. There I stood, brooding along with the shadows of my past lives. She asked if love was all we should live for. I laughed, of course not my dear. But her love was the fire in my sorrowful heart. Dandelions danced in moon light when our lips met for a single time. Lightning cracked like a whip and rain fell to break us apart, indoors the incessant babble drove me back into the dark, my moon was gone. Now I wander these empty streets, with warm whiskey and derelict cigarettes, remembering the warmth by the porch lights; the touch that never had a name. I lost her and myself all the same. And then the headlights came.

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Feb 29, 2016

Feb 29, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC

Memories

There she was, unrelenting eyes bold like midnight bonfires. There I was, small, insecure, rotting wood on a beach side. She asked me to dance, and I hesitated bound between desire and humility. Her mouth contorted into a smile, and my heartbeat ran as wild stallions toward the cliff. One last good fight, one last dream to keep me alive. There she stood, porcelain hands glowing by the porch lights. There I stood, brooding along with the shadows of my past lives. She asked if love was all we should live for. I laughed, of course not my dear. But her love was the fire in my sorrowful heart. Dandelions danced in moon light when our lips met for a single time. Lightning cracked like a whip and rain fell to break us apart, indoors the incessant babble drove me back into the dark, my moon was gone. Now I wander these empty streets, with warm whiskey and derelict cigarettes, remembering the warmth by the porch lights; the touch that never had a name. I lost her and myself all the same. And then the headlights came.

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