genevieve-moncada - Hello Poetry

the tracks disappear into the fog the mist dampens everything around me i hear a train horn in the distance and then it's silent again the dusty, dawn blue sky hovers hesitantly above the cloud i'm in the train horn blows again and i see lights through the fog and dissolve into the watery air the train rushes over the tracks with the weight of a million tons it crashes into my ghost and splits it into a million slices

0

Feb 5, 2013

Feb 5, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC

train soul

the tracks disappear into the fog the mist dampens everything around me i hear a train horn in the distance and then it's silent again the dusty, dawn blue sky hovers hesitantly above the cloud i'm in the train horn blows again and i see lights through the fog and dissolve into the watery air the train rushes over the tracks with the weight of a million tons it crashes into my ghost and splits it into a million slices

13

do you ever feel a scream in your blood? do you feel a scream in your chest? like a bubble of pressure that feels like nervous laughter building up in your stomach almost feels like butterflies but when you let the butterflies out they burst into the air they pop like balloons and they turn into a scream

0

Jan 26, 2013

Jan 26, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC

scream

do you ever feel a scream in your blood? do you feel a scream in your chest? like a bubble of pressure that feels like nervous laughter building up in your stomach almost feels like butterflies but when you let the butterflies out they burst into the air they pop like balloons and they turn into a scream

13

ashes to ashes dust to dust from earth to sky from love to lust carry me out to a rainy sea hide your tears and set me free you'll grow old and I will rust ashes to ashes dust to dust

0

Jan 20, 2013

Jan 20, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC

ashes

ashes to ashes dust to dust from earth to sky from love to lust carry me out to a rainy sea hide your tears and set me free you'll grow old and I will rust ashes to ashes dust to dust

11

i guess some things really do just slip through your mind like sand through fingers just flowing away i suppose that some people just dont know how to let go of these things i think that some people try get rid of the thoughts on purpose sometimes it feels better to feel nothing and calms your feverish mind to forget push the thoughts out like the tide tie an anchor to your ankle and just let it all slip away

0

Oct 28, 2012

Oct 28, 2012 at 1:03 AM UTC

beach thoughts

i guess some things really do just slip through your mind like sand through fingers just flowing away i suppose that some people just dont know how to let go of these things i think that some people try get rid of the thoughts on purpose sometimes it feels better to feel nothing and calms your feverish mind to forget push the thoughts out like the tide tie an anchor to your ankle and just let it all slip away

19

hit hit hit clap slam clap you're gonna miss me when i'm gone top bottom top you're gonna miss me by my hair slam clap you're gonna miss me everywhere clap i know you're gonna miss me when i'm gone hit hit

0

Oct 20, 2012

Oct 20, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC

cups

hit hit hit clap slam clap you're gonna miss me when i'm gone top bottom top you're gonna miss me by my hair slam clap you're gonna miss me everywhere clap i know you're gonna miss me when i'm gone hit hit

17

the memories you find at the very bottom of your brain from when you were just a little seed of a person it's like looking at the world through a kaleidoscope colors shapes they almost seem to fit together in a puzzle like way but mostly it's strange to see that you've changed so much it's even stranger to find that you haven't changed at all

0

Oct 11, 2012

Oct 11, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC

kaleidoscope

the memories you find at the very bottom of your brain from when you were just a little seed of a person it's like looking at the world through a kaleidoscope colors shapes they almost seem to fit together in a puzzle like way but mostly it's strange to see that you've changed so much it's even stranger to find that you haven't changed at all

20

i found an old bag at the bottom was a smashed frame broken glass poking holes at the bottom i told them i reached in and all the glass scratched me and that was the first time

0

Oct 9, 2012

Oct 9, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC

the first time

i found an old bag at the bottom was a smashed frame broken glass poking holes at the bottom i told them i reached in and all the glass scratched me and that was the first time

9

life and death are funny concepts. we know nothing of either. they are so simple, yet so technical, so complex. like black and white is death black? or is it white? is immortality a combination of both? life seems almost pointless, death being just as meaningless in the sense that there almost seems to be no reason to either live or die. why live when death is there to take it away, why die when you've lived? it's difficult to grasp the concept of death, of no life, when you are alive.

0

Oct 7, 2012

Oct 7, 2012 at 1:28 AM UTC

to live

life and death are funny concepts. we know nothing of either. they are so simple, yet so technical, so complex. like black and white is death black? or is it white? is immortality a combination of both? life seems almost pointless, death being just as meaningless in the sense that there almost seems to be no reason to either live or die. why live when death is there to take it away, why die when you've lived? it's difficult to grasp the concept of death, of no life, when you are alive.

24

Jane- It was cold. The sun tried to shine through the endless layers of foamy, winter clouds. It was grey. Snow had settled, frozen. Drip, drip, dripped... and refrozen. Lumps of blackened ice lined the skeletal streets of the city, asleep. Hibernating. It was dark, quiet and dead. The icy, dry winds blew through the empty stomach of the town, drying out the bricks on the buildings, cracking the trees into bits, smaller and smaller. Your breath created a thick white cloud in the air above you, but thinned and disappeared, just like everything else. Jon- She blended in with the bleached building. White skin, white hair, ivory coat. Her eyes stood out like a sapling in the winter though, pushing through the frozen surface, green and hopeful. She was almost nothing special, if you didn't look twice. But on the second look, she was like pink and blue and yellow. A neon sign. Special. She brought a light to the slumbering city, a light that I held in my careful hands, because she lit up for me, and me only. A glow-in-the-dark star, only seen at night, when there's nobody there to see. I held her carefully because lights can go out if you're not. I clicked the button one more time, capturing her. Her eyes and the gentle light they held. Flickering. "Stop, that's enough," But she said it with a smile. Jane- I hate the winter, but I love it, too. I feel like I belong. I belong in the cold, white winter where there is nothing to see and nothing to feel. That's also why I hate it.

0

Oct 1, 2012

Oct 1, 2012 at 12:33 AM UTC

jane and jon

Jane- It was cold. The sun tried to shine through the endless layers of foamy, winter clouds. It was grey. Snow had settled, frozen. Drip, drip, dripped... and refrozen. Lumps of blackened ice lined the skeletal streets of the city, asleep. Hibernating. It was dark, quiet and dead. The icy, dry winds blew through the empty stomach of the town, drying out the bricks on the buildings, cracking the trees into bits, smaller and smaller. Your breath created a thick white cloud in the air above you, but thinned and disappeared, just like everything else. Jon- She blended in with the bleached building. White skin, white hair, ivory coat. Her eyes stood out like a sapling in the winter though, pushing through the frozen surface, green and hopeful. She was almost nothing special, if you didn't look twice. But on the second look, she was like pink and blue and yellow. A neon sign. Special. She brought a light to the slumbering city, a light that I held in my careful hands, because she lit up for me, and me only. A glow-in-the-dark star, only seen at night, when there's nobody there to see. I held her carefully because lights can go out if you're not. I clicked the button one more time, capturing her. Her eyes and the gentle light they held. Flickering. "Stop, that's enough," But she said it with a smile. Jane- I hate the winter, but I love it, too. I feel like I belong. I belong in the cold, white winter where there is nothing to see and nothing to feel. That's also why I hate it.

10

trees don't always grow tall and strong sometimes they grow skinny cause it takes too long. there's never enough space at the bottom so it's a race to the top, and then it's just a year or two until it's time to chop. All of a sudden it's acres of land, looks like a beach without water or sand. No use crying over it, it's already done but it's also hard to say "it's time to have fun" because when there's something eating you at the back of your brain, chances are it'll leave a tear stain in the middle of a thought, and you'll just be caught in a big ***** field after the big chop.

0

Sep 8, 2012

Sep 8, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC

the chopped

trees don't always grow tall and strong sometimes they grow skinny cause it takes too long. there's never enough space at the bottom so it's a race to the top, and then it's just a year or two until it's time to chop. All of a sudden it's acres of land, looks like a beach without water or sand. No use crying over it, it's already done but it's also hard to say "it's time to have fun" because when there's something eating you at the back of your brain, chances are it'll leave a tear stain in the middle of a thought, and you'll just be caught in a big ***** field after the big chop.

30