glowury - Hello Poetry

Summer walks down grandma’s worn gravel road Bare feet wading about glistening streams Where golden beams through the evergreen flowed We meet the light in that of a daydream. As midday gives way to cloudless heavens and your porch creaks with a gentle exhale the lilies in your garden beckon a warmth unmatched in their simple detail. The sun escapes the day though leaves behind hues of pastels dripped across horizons and as the day and night are intertwined the shoreline of sky reveal its diamonds. Among rich memories these moments live of the summer's spent with the light you give.

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Jan 16, 2017

Jan 16, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC

The Light You Give

Summer walks down grandma’s worn gravel road Bare feet wading about glistening streams Where golden beams through the evergreen flowed We meet the light in that of a daydream. As midday gives way to cloudless heavens and your porch creaks with a gentle exhale the lilies in your garden beckon a warmth unmatched in their simple detail. The sun escapes the day though leaves behind hues of pastels dripped across horizons and as the day and night are intertwined the shoreline of sky reveal its diamonds. Among rich memories these moments live of the summer's spent with the light you give.

14

maybe you don't realize you're rushing too fast, thinking plenty thoughts the day is young and it's ready to choke you. of course you can't let it, well you'll try. and that's exactly what you're thinking of. that particular choking in complicated areas of the day. but anyway, when you're running down the stairs, flinging wrong shoes off right feet, grabbing the right things in the wrong hands, you run out the door with hair pulled roughly out of your shirt and a backpack strap on a single shoulder, you run out the door, you silently thank your dad for keeping that door open, the tiny acts of kindness that keep you moving, keep you functioning, you run out that open door, you don't look back, you run down the concrete steps into the fog, into the rain, into the grey, into the sunlight, into the 20 degree chill, and you never notice, not once. you are starting a day of endless possibilities. you could cry or die or meet your match. you could make a puzzle or make a friend or lose him. you could scream in pain or joy you could build a castle maybe a mansion full of princesses dancing and a frog might leap in front of your toes. the infinity can happen. endless questions with eons of answers. and all you can think of is whether or not you'll make the bus.

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Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC

The Day is Young

maybe you don't realize you're rushing too fast, thinking plenty thoughts the day is young and it's ready to choke you. of course you can't let it, well you'll try. and that's exactly what you're thinking of. that particular choking in complicated areas of the day. but anyway, when you're running down the stairs, flinging wrong shoes off right feet, grabbing the right things in the wrong hands, you run out the door with hair pulled roughly out of your shirt and a backpack strap on a single shoulder, you run out the door, you silently thank your dad for keeping that door open, the tiny acts of kindness that keep you moving, keep you functioning, you run out that open door, you don't look back, you run down the concrete steps into the fog, into the rain, into the grey, into the sunlight, into the 20 degree chill, and you never notice, not once. you are starting a day of endless possibilities. you could cry or die or meet your match. you could make a puzzle or make a friend or lose him. you could scream in pain or joy you could build a castle maybe a mansion full of princesses dancing and a frog might leap in front of your toes. the infinity can happen. endless questions with eons of answers. and all you can think of is whether or not you'll make the bus.

41

there are 24 hours in the day and every breath I breathe has the scent of you maybe not anymore It has the essence of you the absence. that's all I have left. the broken hearts say that sleep helps. but you do not appear in my dreams anymore and that scares me. I stay up till dawn to make sure the sun will still rise I take those breaths and I sleep until I can't take it anymore. because you are living and I want to be with you even if living is the only thing we have in common now. blood runs through my veins and 2 billion others on this earth, but it flows through yours too that is enough for me your existence is enough you.

0

Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC

Y ou

there are 24 hours in the day and every breath I breathe has the scent of you maybe not anymore It has the essence of you the absence. that's all I have left. the broken hearts say that sleep helps. but you do not appear in my dreams anymore and that scares me. I stay up till dawn to make sure the sun will still rise I take those breaths and I sleep until I can't take it anymore. because you are living and I want to be with you even if living is the only thing we have in common now. blood runs through my veins and 2 billion others on this earth, but it flows through yours too that is enough for me your existence is enough you.

16

there are enough people in this world to make me hate myself my world is a mile long and 400 million miles into the sky sometimes I wish I could hit the stars maybe my mind will fly far off enough that I leave here, even if it makes me crazy I don't know if anything I do will ever be good enough because being good enough for myself is never enough enough is a strange concept I take a breath late at night when I'm alone but when I'm in a crowded room I sink low and bite my lip until it bleeds I see him laughing and I like the way his veins make spiders look less scary I like that he scares me but I don't like him one bit I walk around the park seven times before realizing that it's pitch black out and I notice how old men have scowls on their faces when they think no one is looking there are 7 oceans in the world and I have swam in every one of them and I realized how you believe what you want to believe I believe that they are all the same My father once told me that I have to work hard to get what I wanted in life and now I have proved him wrong by holding you close he proved me wrong when you left. I worked hard for you even when I knew you were never coming back working hard never seems to pay off I take a deep breath and I breathe.

0

Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC

The Hum of Thoughts

there are enough people in this world to make me hate myself my world is a mile long and 400 million miles into the sky sometimes I wish I could hit the stars maybe my mind will fly far off enough that I leave here, even if it makes me crazy I don't know if anything I do will ever be good enough because being good enough for myself is never enough enough is a strange concept I take a breath late at night when I'm alone but when I'm in a crowded room I sink low and bite my lip until it bleeds I see him laughing and I like the way his veins make spiders look less scary I like that he scares me but I don't like him one bit I walk around the park seven times before realizing that it's pitch black out and I notice how old men have scowls on their faces when they think no one is looking there are 7 oceans in the world and I have swam in every one of them and I realized how you believe what you want to believe I believe that they are all the same My father once told me that I have to work hard to get what I wanted in life and now I have proved him wrong by holding you close he proved me wrong when you left. I worked hard for you even when I knew you were never coming back working hard never seems to pay off I take a deep breath and I breathe.

24

I see the things that are never there and the things that no one sees. I see puffs of smoky exhaust dancing in front not sure which way the wind will flow. I see it formulating in ones mind the wind pipe fill with fresh air and spew out a blackened lie. I see bare clay men running down the highway very slowly though in a flash of peach. I see white spotted doe's staring at me from ten feet away with their intent eyes and eager ears, and they are gone. I see a so called crazy mans masterpiece through the smiling moon. I see a blinking rainbow on the small of a bus window thats only there for a moment. I see small dark boys wave at me when no ones looking I wave back. I see hope as it rises in someone's chest and disappointment when it falls like how the constellations fall down towards the earth on tiny thin strings and dance among the people. I see them glowing through particular people's hearts I see them shining through thick sweaters. I see the things that are never there I see the things that no one sees.

0

Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC

Between the Lines

I see the things that are never there and the things that no one sees. I see puffs of smoky exhaust dancing in front not sure which way the wind will flow. I see it formulating in ones mind the wind pipe fill with fresh air and spew out a blackened lie. I see bare clay men running down the highway very slowly though in a flash of peach. I see white spotted doe's staring at me from ten feet away with their intent eyes and eager ears, and they are gone. I see a so called crazy mans masterpiece through the smiling moon. I see a blinking rainbow on the small of a bus window thats only there for a moment. I see small dark boys wave at me when no ones looking I wave back. I see hope as it rises in someone's chest and disappointment when it falls like how the constellations fall down towards the earth on tiny thin strings and dance among the people. I see them glowing through particular people's hearts I see them shining through thick sweaters. I see the things that are never there I see the things that no one sees.

50

One cannot put in words the exact feeling of going crazy it's like asking the stars in the sky what it's like to drop down into people's pockets it is asking too much because I cannot show you how my veins freeze and race in the same moment because I cannot tell you the chills I get on every square inch of my skin when his eyes split me wide open I cannot tell you how the sun can burst inside of me when his hand meets mine or maybe when his fingertips write a story of galaxies into my bones I cannot bare to tell you I cannot speak those words because you are sitting there you are sitting there staring at a screen you are reading a story when he is carving explosions into the very fabrics of my insides.

0

Nov 29, 2014

Nov 29, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC

Insanity

One cannot put in words the exact feeling of going crazy it's like asking the stars in the sky what it's like to drop down into people's pockets it is asking too much because I cannot show you how my veins freeze and race in the same moment because I cannot tell you the chills I get on every square inch of my skin when his eyes split me wide open I cannot tell you how the sun can burst inside of me when his hand meets mine or maybe when his fingertips write a story of galaxies into my bones I cannot bare to tell you I cannot speak those words because you are sitting there you are sitting there staring at a screen you are reading a story when he is carving explosions into the very fabrics of my insides.

8