julia-denham - Hello Poetry

i think it felt like having almost no oxygen left in your flimsy lungs, or the way alcohol let laughter tease the tip of your tongue, or when you met someone who's eyes didn't quite make sense, or hearing a beautiful song for the first time or watching an inspiring movie, i think it felt like finally deciding you'd made up your mind on a matter, or smiling to yourself when you remembered something embarrassing you did , or when you wished you'd tried harder, or questioning and comparing others' consequences to your own, or sipping something intangible when you sat alone amongst a bunch of grinning faces, contemplating whether you were locked out, or locked in?

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Nov 17, 2013

Nov 17, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC

i think it felt like

i think it felt like having almost no oxygen left in your flimsy lungs, or the way alcohol let laughter tease the tip of your tongue, or when you met someone who's eyes didn't quite make sense, or hearing a beautiful song for the first time or watching an inspiring movie, i think it felt like finally deciding you'd made up your mind on a matter, or smiling to yourself when you remembered something embarrassing you did , or when you wished you'd tried harder, or questioning and comparing others' consequences to your own, or sipping something intangible when you sat alone amongst a bunch of grinning faces, contemplating whether you were locked out, or locked in?

12

i looked in the mirror the mirror stared back, blankly, but it couldn't fool me. i knew it thought thoughts too, or at least, saw them? i looked up at the sky the sky peered down at me, too i wonder if i by chance could dive into the clouds and fall through the atmosphere, and plummet into the earths orbit, if i'd sink forever? and, perhaps, eventually reach the other side of the mirror; the one no one could ever see.

0

Nov 6, 2013

Nov 6, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC

plummet.

i looked in the mirror the mirror stared back, blankly, but it couldn't fool me. i knew it thought thoughts too, or at least, saw them? i looked up at the sky the sky peered down at me, too i wonder if i by chance could dive into the clouds and fall through the atmosphere, and plummet into the earths orbit, if i'd sink forever? and, perhaps, eventually reach the other side of the mirror; the one no one could ever see.

14

I'd always been used to disappointments. Disappointments of all kind. It was funny, though, wasn't it? How people would often laugh off disappointments; shrug, smile, and say something like "oh, no, don't worry about me - i'm used to it!" truth is, they weren't. And i wasn't used to it either. We wouldn't like to admit it, but every disappointment, every failed attempt at short lived sucess, every disastrous relationship, and every bit of spilt milk came as a shock. We're always expecting a positive outcome for ourselves; that just this once things might work out. What was the opposite of the word 'disappointment'? I don't think there is one. Everything is a disappointment, felt in higher and lower variations. Everything and everyone is a neatly wrapped up parcel, with a pretty pink ribbon, that appears a present, but is actually nothing but a disappointment waiting to happen. Exploding into sighs and tears and rubbed eyes. Humans didn't seem to notice just how much hope every fiber of their being actually contained. Strands of hope intertwined with their DNA structure. It was really the only thing that kept us going when we felt completely abandoned and lost and utterly alone. I whispered it to myself, "Hope." That same afternoon, when you physically entered my mind (since, all this time you had been living there, mentally. Overstaying your welcome, might I add.) I questioned the growing smile on my face, contrasted with the painful 'gut feeling' I was experiencing as well. Since you left all I'd been hoping for was that you'd come back and tell me something along the lines of, "I was wrong, I need you. I want you" and then top it off with the overused, 'I love you' card. I'd leap into your tanned, muscular arms and then, well. Well I hadn't really thought past that moment. In the three months you had been gone, all I pictured as 'happiness' was you loving me back. pathetic, wasn't it? We're all just looking for something bigger than we're able to find. Searching for more substance on this little planet with these heart breaking people. Okay, okay, people weren't all that bad. But one thing that people are, unintentionally or not, is selfish. We want the best for ourselves, of course. even though I'd guided myself to believe that my life was all about you, it was in fact all about me, me, me. There was only one 'you' but there were a billion 'me's within me. A me who is happy, a me who is sad, a me who is constantly confused and a me that convinces me I'm okay. And you see, we are all actually okay. Perhaps being 'broken' or 'damaged' just appeared more intriguing to both others and ourselves. Did I really want to be 'happy'?

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Jul 30, 2013

Jul 30, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC

(part 2) Living Rooms.

I'd always been used to disappointments. Disappointments of all kind. It was funny, though, wasn't it? How people would often laugh off disappointments; shrug, smile, and say something like "oh, no, don't worry about me - i'm used to it!" truth is, they weren't. And i wasn't used to it either. We wouldn't like to admit it, but every disappointment, every failed attempt at short lived sucess, every disastrous relationship, and every bit of spilt milk came as a shock. We're always expecting a positive outcome for ourselves; that just this once things might work out. What was the opposite of the word 'disappointment'? I don't think there is one. Everything is a disappointment, felt in higher and lower variations. Everything and everyone is a neatly wrapped up parcel, with a pretty pink ribbon, that appears a present, but is actually nothing but a disappointment waiting to happen. Exploding into sighs and tears and rubbed eyes. Humans didn't seem to notice just how much hope every fiber of their being actually contained. Strands of hope intertwined with their DNA structure. It was really the only thing that kept us going when we felt completely abandoned and lost and utterly alone. I whispered it to myself, "Hope." That same afternoon, when you physically entered my mind (since, all this time you had been living there, mentally. Overstaying your welcome, might I add.) I questioned the growing smile on my face, contrasted with the painful 'gut feeling' I was experiencing as well. Since you left all I'd been hoping for was that you'd come back and tell me something along the lines of, "I was wrong, I need you. I want you" and then top it off with the overused, 'I love you' card. I'd leap into your tanned, muscular arms and then, well. Well I hadn't really thought past that moment. In the three months you had been gone, all I pictured as 'happiness' was you loving me back. pathetic, wasn't it? We're all just looking for something bigger than we're able to find. Searching for more substance on this little planet with these heart breaking people. Okay, okay, people weren't all that bad. But one thing that people are, unintentionally or not, is selfish. We want the best for ourselves, of course. even though I'd guided myself to believe that my life was all about you, it was in fact all about me, me, me. There was only one 'you' but there were a billion 'me's within me. A me who is happy, a me who is sad, a me who is constantly confused and a me that convinces me I'm okay. And you see, we are all actually okay. Perhaps being 'broken' or 'damaged' just appeared more intriguing to both others and ourselves. Did I really want to be 'happy'?

7

you lay on the sofa, mummified in your grandma's knitted blanket, thinking awfully slowly about things, so slowly. "yet again, i am abandoned, humanity has let me down" you said, see, you and i are the same (person), yet awfully different we both felt lowly of ourselves, so lowly. and i said, "you and i are humanity, too."

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Jul 29, 2013

Jul 29, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC

you and i.

you lay on the sofa, mummified in your grandma's knitted blanket, thinking awfully slowly about things, so slowly. "yet again, i am abandoned, humanity has let me down" you said, see, you and i are the same (person), yet awfully different we both felt lowly of ourselves, so lowly. and i said, "you and i are humanity, too."

12

You walked in through the door, your left leg stepping first over the dusty, wooden door frame. You smiled, almost nervously, but it was intriguing the way you dealt with this seemingly awkward situation. You peered down at your worn out, deep blue jeans, torn at the knees, slipping your hands into your pockets peering up at me. There I was, practically a piece of furniture in the living room of your mind. I felt I'd been there so long that I knew everything there was to know, every painting hung, every window and their matching curtains, the faded light green rug placed on the squeaky floor boards, every cob web and every occasional butterfly that fluttered in and out. It was strange, knowing so much about you both repelled me and attracted me to you, in a way unexplainable. There had to be more to you. There had to be a reason you loved to watch the news over and over again, and a reason you didn't like sugar in your coffee and a reason you turned up at my door that summer afternoon. A reason for my outrageous feelings. I remember how the warm air played with the stray bits of your light brown hair and how your eyebrows raised as you smiled, resembling the way shoulders shrug. They say that sometimes you can actually feel your heart breaking. Well, when our eyes met, mine seemed to break in half and fix itself perfectly, simultaneously. Emotions in slow motion, yet still all to fast to understand. I had to keep it together as it fell apart. I had to forgive myself for letting myself love you, whatever 'love' was. I wondered, earlier that morning, when I walked past the nearby florist store, what life and death was. What the terms 'life' and 'death' actually meant. How all those beautiful flowers were cut just as they were at their bloom; killed when they were most beautiful. I thought perhaps this might be the same for humans, but then shoved the thought of such demanding topics into a little steel chest in the back of my brain, conveniently placed deep under the part where all the happy thoughts are filed in neat metal cabinets. I felt as though I was drowning in hopelessness, as though I was enclosed in some sort of night club, surrounded with smiling faces and drunken comments and 'woooo's and lofty eyes, as though the frivolous party atmosphere was consuming every inch of my sanity. I wished so bad I could be as absent minded as them. I wished I didn't have the overwhelming need to find more. There had to be more. More than alcohol, and straightened hair, and *** and money, more than education and marriage, more than tanned skin, more than music, more than fake 'hello's and the meaningless exchange of numbers between two strangers. One thing, though, that I would often consider was how strangers were the most beautiful of things. They are like little mysterious secrets. Strangers could be whatever you wanted them to be. One could fall in love with a stranger. The ideas and fantasies are so dreadfully captivating, that one can get so easily attached. Attached to something, someone, who doesn't actually exist. These bedazzled ideas that one constructs, designs and creates around these unknown people is so quickly broken as one gets to know them. I never wanted to get to know anyone after getting to know you. I decided that afternoon that I'd rather love strangers, I'd rather invest myself in silly, pretentious ideas of people, than loving actual, real people. Getting to know someone is just as much exciting as it is suspenseful and disappointing, it's awful because the more you know; the less there is to know, and you keep learning and learning until one day, simply, there seems nothing left to learn. You come to a solid wall when you were expecting a big bright door.

0

Jul 24, 2013

Jul 24, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC

(short story) introduction: living rooms.

You walked in through the door, your left leg stepping first over the dusty, wooden door frame. You smiled, almost nervously, but it was intriguing the way you dealt with this seemingly awkward situation. You peered down at your worn out, deep blue jeans, torn at the knees, slipping your hands into your pockets peering up at me. There I was, practically a piece of furniture in the living room of your mind. I felt I'd been there so long that I knew everything there was to know, every painting hung, every window and their matching curtains, the faded light green rug placed on the squeaky floor boards, every cob web and every occasional butterfly that fluttered in and out. It was strange, knowing so much about you both repelled me and attracted me to you, in a way unexplainable. There had to be more to you. There had to be a reason you loved to watch the news over and over again, and a reason you didn't like sugar in your coffee and a reason you turned up at my door that summer afternoon. A reason for my outrageous feelings. I remember how the warm air played with the stray bits of your light brown hair and how your eyebrows raised as you smiled, resembling the way shoulders shrug. They say that sometimes you can actually feel your heart breaking. Well, when our eyes met, mine seemed to break in half and fix itself perfectly, simultaneously. Emotions in slow motion, yet still all to fast to understand. I had to keep it together as it fell apart. I had to forgive myself for letting myself love you, whatever 'love' was. I wondered, earlier that morning, when I walked past the nearby florist store, what life and death was. What the terms 'life' and 'death' actually meant. How all those beautiful flowers were cut just as they were at their bloom; killed when they were most beautiful. I thought perhaps this might be the same for humans, but then shoved the thought of such demanding topics into a little steel chest in the back of my brain, conveniently placed deep under the part where all the happy thoughts are filed in neat metal cabinets. I felt as though I was drowning in hopelessness, as though I was enclosed in some sort of night club, surrounded with smiling faces and drunken comments and 'woooo's and lofty eyes, as though the frivolous party atmosphere was consuming every inch of my sanity. I wished so bad I could be as absent minded as them. I wished I didn't have the overwhelming need to find more. There had to be more. More than alcohol, and straightened hair, and *** and money, more than education and marriage, more than tanned skin, more than music, more than fake 'hello's and the meaningless exchange of numbers between two strangers. One thing, though, that I would often consider was how strangers were the most beautiful of things. They are like little mysterious secrets. Strangers could be whatever you wanted them to be. One could fall in love with a stranger. The ideas and fantasies are so dreadfully captivating, that one can get so easily attached. Attached to something, someone, who doesn't actually exist. These bedazzled ideas that one constructs, designs and creates around these unknown people is so quickly broken as one gets to know them. I never wanted to get to know anyone after getting to know you. I decided that afternoon that I'd rather love strangers, I'd rather invest myself in silly, pretentious ideas of people, than loving actual, real people. Getting to know someone is just as much exciting as it is suspenseful and disappointing, it's awful because the more you know; the less there is to know, and you keep learning and learning until one day, simply, there seems nothing left to learn. You come to a solid wall when you were expecting a big bright door.

3

take me somewhere nice we'll drink lemonade and iced tea take me where the flowers grow and where you still love me take me somewhere beautiful ill wear something suitable take me where the sky is blue and where we're still youthful take me somewhere slightly suspicious kiss me softly but make it viscous darling, take me where they say the oxygen is delicious take me back.

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Jul 23, 2013

Jul 23, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC

somewhere.

take me somewhere nice we'll drink lemonade and iced tea take me where the flowers grow and where you still love me take me somewhere beautiful ill wear something suitable take me where the sky is blue and where we're still youthful take me somewhere slightly suspicious kiss me softly but make it viscous darling, take me where they say the oxygen is delicious take me back.

10

laugh at yourself for being so silly scream and shout and argue and doubt forget for a few minuscule seconds and then remember and wish more than ever to forget. just hope and long and crave for something different for anything exciting but not too daring. thrive on love or whatever you think it is. convince yourself that you are starving without its companionship, convince yourself that solitude is sufficient, while you loathe what you are but love it more than anything; because at the end of the day (week, month, year, decade) you are all you have.

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Jun 11, 2013

Jun 11, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC

all you have.

laugh at yourself for being so silly scream and shout and argue and doubt forget for a few minuscule seconds and then remember and wish more than ever to forget. just hope and long and crave for something different for anything exciting but not too daring. thrive on love or whatever you think it is. convince yourself that you are starving without its companionship, convince yourself that solitude is sufficient, while you loathe what you are but love it more than anything; because at the end of the day (week, month, year, decade) you are all you have.

30

In need of escape, they fled for the ocean floor he persuaded her, "I need you, take my hand" They drew the curtains and locked the door Discarded the rusty key on the rough sand They waded through the forceful waves That pushed them out, then pulled them in And enrolled themselves as Queen Ocean's slaves Commanded helplessly by her recurring din Then strolling down the ocean bed An imaginary staircase to an alter With an imaginary priest where they would be wed He knew her love for him would never falter And that's how he knew he'd won Even though he'd lost himself in the water Because he had her now, the deed was done All the while the waves just whispered; "love is manslaughter"

0

Jun 8, 2013

Jun 8, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC

the waves

In need of escape, they fled for the ocean floor he persuaded her, "I need you, take my hand" They drew the curtains and locked the door Discarded the rusty key on the rough sand They waded through the forceful waves That pushed them out, then pulled them in And enrolled themselves as Queen Ocean's slaves Commanded helplessly by her recurring din Then strolling down the ocean bed An imaginary staircase to an alter With an imaginary priest where they would be wed He knew her love for him would never falter And that's how he knew he'd won Even though he'd lost himself in the water Because he had her now, the deed was done All the while the waves just whispered; "love is manslaughter"

16

I think our thoughts grow like trees All joined, intertwined, interconnected And bother us like bumbling bees Negative wonders, misunderstood dreams Atempts to concour, harshly rejected I think our thoughts grow like trees Some as deep as the depths of unknown seas Or as shallow as assumptions in mirrors reflected They do bother us like bumbling bees They blow, lost within the wind, like leaves Millions of orphaned epiphanies; neglected I think our thoughts grow like trees Two conflicting hearts, one gets up and flees "sure you're okay?" I think they've suspected They bother us like bumbling bees Trembling ideas, shaking like weak knees Such heavy weights to hold are expected I think our thoughts grow just like trees And bother our being like bumbling bees

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Apr 13, 2013

Apr 13, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC

bumbling bees & growing trees

I think our thoughts grow like trees All joined, intertwined, interconnected And bother us like bumbling bees Negative wonders, misunderstood dreams Atempts to concour, harshly rejected I think our thoughts grow like trees Some as deep as the depths of unknown seas Or as shallow as assumptions in mirrors reflected They do bother us like bumbling bees They blow, lost within the wind, like leaves Millions of orphaned epiphanies; neglected I think our thoughts grow like trees Two conflicting hearts, one gets up and flees "sure you're okay?" I think they've suspected They bother us like bumbling bees Trembling ideas, shaking like weak knees Such heavy weights to hold are expected I think our thoughts grow just like trees And bother our being like bumbling bees

19

But let's forget About those meaningless worries And jump into a river We could go skinny dipping As the sun melts off the side of the earth Forget regret And hold my hand, I know its cold Ill calm your shivers And warm your lips As the trees turn to intricate silhouettes Just pretend we're wild & free; like they say we should be We'll poison our little livers With laughter and loss of cares As we become more forgetful about tomorrow Or the next Day. Tonight, just me and you will Drift, together, downriver As glass bottles float around us, enclose us Neglect the Natural enquiries of how late it is Or that it's getting darker As we drown in eachothers presence I recommend You let yourself be decieved And flow downstream. We slither Softly bumping limbs underwater "accidentally" Don't defend Yourself. I know we aren't in love But could we act it? I'll deliver you kisses as we sink Deeper into The depths of a pretended plot Of an olden day flim, where the girl gives her Spontanious side a chance; And the boy plays his part.

0

Apr 12, 2013

Apr 12, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC

as we sink.

But let's forget About those meaningless worries And jump into a river We could go skinny dipping As the sun melts off the side of the earth Forget regret And hold my hand, I know its cold Ill calm your shivers And warm your lips As the trees turn to intricate silhouettes Just pretend we're wild & free; like they say we should be We'll poison our little livers With laughter and loss of cares As we become more forgetful about tomorrow Or the next Day. Tonight, just me and you will Drift, together, downriver As glass bottles float around us, enclose us Neglect the Natural enquiries of how late it is Or that it's getting darker As we drown in eachothers presence I recommend You let yourself be decieved And flow downstream. We slither Softly bumping limbs underwater "accidentally" Don't defend Yourself. I know we aren't in love But could we act it? I'll deliver you kisses as we sink Deeper into The depths of a pretended plot Of an olden day flim, where the girl gives her Spontanious side a chance; And the boy plays his part.

36