liv-farr - Hello Poetry

A stopped clock sits blank, hands still, in the corner of the room. The evening sun trickles in encasing each pane in the last light of the day. It illuminates a field of dirt and grime plagued by carcasses clinging by their wings to the hope of freedom in a time that never came. My heart beats slow It's all i hear. In the moments between each dull beat, there's nothing but a blank space that echoes off the walls louder than I've ever known before. You are here, but you're not here. If you were here time would resume. Hours would feel like minutes and minutes, mere seconds. We would run in circles chasing the hands of time desperately trying to yank them back with hopes of just one more moment. But you're not here because hours seem like weeks, and weeks seem like months. So i sit here. Blank face Hands still In the middle of the room where time moves around me.

0

Jun 12, 2016

Jun 12, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC

liv-farr

Stop the clock.

A stopped clock sits blank, hands still, in the corner of the room. The evening sun trickles in encasing each pane in the last light of the day. It illuminates a field of dirt and grime plagued by carcasses clinging by their wings to the hope of freedom in a time that never came. My heart beats slow It's all i hear. In the moments between each dull beat, there's nothing but a blank space that echoes off the walls louder than I've ever known before. You are here, but you're not here. If you were here time would resume. Hours would feel like minutes and minutes, mere seconds. We would run in circles chasing the hands of time desperately trying to yank them back with hopes of just one more moment. But you're not here because hours seem like weeks, and weeks seem like months. So i sit here. Blank face Hands still In the middle of the room where time moves around me.

16

Thousands of Americans Dead at the hands of police officers. Look at the masses, all races, all religions. You've unleashed a torrent long-simmering tensions. What a sea of people in the capitol on a chilly December day. You've electrified a larger audience, Thousands of American citizens who can't breathe in their own communities. "This is an American march." a history making moment. He traced his small hand on his poster and wrote "Don't shoot me."

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Jul 9, 2015

Jul 9, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC

liv-farr

Thousands march to protest against police brutality in major US cities- The Gaurdian

Thousands of Americans Dead at the hands of police officers. Look at the masses, all races, all religions. You've unleashed a torrent long-simmering tensions. What a sea of people in the capitol on a chilly December day. You've electrified a larger audience, Thousands of American citizens who can't breathe in their own communities. "This is an American march." a history making moment. He traced his small hand on his poster and wrote "Don't shoot me."

19

The lonely moon held the horizon after a desperate search. For love. For light. But at first glimpse, of his morning love, He closed his eyes and died.

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Jul 9, 2015

Jul 9, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC

liv-farr

Love Affair

The lonely moon held the horizon after a desperate search. For love. For light. But at first glimpse, of his morning love, He closed his eyes and died.

6

Each day I stand motionless, My feet glued to place, Some say stubborn, but I'm stuck in my ways. I'm encased in this glass society. So fragile. In need of a shake, To stir up all that remains of past flames. Ashes Dance gracefully when tossed to the sky But I choke for air as they cloud my mind And I guess it looks different as the eye of the storm than it does as, I witness, You shake up my world once more But my smile etched face wont change Long after the dust has settled.

0

Jul 6, 2015

Jul 6, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC

liv-farr

Snow globe

Each day I stand motionless, My feet glued to place, Some say stubborn, but I'm stuck in my ways. I'm encased in this glass society. So fragile. In need of a shake, To stir up all that remains of past flames. Ashes Dance gracefully when tossed to the sky But I choke for air as they cloud my mind And I guess it looks different as the eye of the storm than it does as, I witness, You shake up my world once more But my smile etched face wont change Long after the dust has settled.

14