ga
gabriel-bermingham
Whisper
American
Poems
18
Followers
6
Words
601
Sort
Popular
Latest
A-Z
Sort
Popular
I Need Punk Rock
I need punk rock. / More than a Juliet. / A Juliet will tease you, get under your skin and cause you to crawl.
19
4.3k
Base Role
I've never held any stock in aesthetics. / What mattered to me was the sweat and tears that I bleed that help / push those I love to higher ground.
12
1.1k
Father's Day
I've had the hardest time trying to be a man, the one my father taught me to be. I never understood why he was always so tired, but now I've been searching for sleep for the past three years. The bags under my eyes are the same as his, and I thank him every day for the pride he's given me in a world full of distances and disrespect.
5
943
Growing Up Before Growing Old
I’ve given up a lot of things for love. / A few I have rid on purpose. / But there are things that I never realized I gave up until I no longer wanted them.
27
877
Spinning
Every few years I feel the need to see what else is out there. / In the past, it has caused my friends to grow up, while I reset and spin in the same circuit redundantly. / Every time I hear about their lives and success, I smile and shed a tear.
16
869
My Autumn Sunflower
You remind me of the fall, when I don't mind spending my days sitting in the shade. With my coffee and smoke, I spend all my time thinking about all of the days to come. / With you, I can smell the leaves that fall so the trees can get ready for winter. / The amber, melon, and dusk rainbow that blows across our view.
20
790
Coffee Eyes
Every morning I wake up, / I hope to find Nirvana at the bottom of my coffee cup. / The only problem is when I see the white floor
5
781
What I Have Left
I wanted to place my heart on the hearth. / I wanted to show someone all that I can be. / Why was I so scared back then? I wanted to speak to you.
31
767
Plates
All the Events that I’ve gathered, here / in my basket, are the sweet fruit I give to you, / my friends.
10
687
Untitled
The West is drowning in vanity. / The East is lost to greed. / If only the middle was a content place.
6
677
Load more poems
Explore
Hello Poetry
Voting
Write