Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 1306° 
From the ashes
I've never written a limerick.
Thinking of it makes me sick.
Better a sonnet
or a woman upon it.
Maybe, I'll just play with my ****.
lol.  Just having fun.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICWIGqf62Kw
poetry reading on you tube by Thomas W. Case
 965° 
Vianne Lior
Soft hush
a lilac hush,
spilling from heaven’s cufflinks.

Dust-throated wind,
draped in violet lace,
forgets how to whisper.

Once,
a petal kissed my wrist,
feather-light, sugar-spun.
(It melted before I could love it.)

Beneath the boughs
time folds like an origami swan.
A child presses footprints into fallen silk,
calls for lullabies.

Glittering
a secret only the butterflies know,
written in ultraviolet sighs.

Stay.
Stay.

But the season is shifting,
jacaranda knows no permanence.

A lilac hush
soft hush
dissolving into sky.

The ground is a love letter
written in violet, waiting for rain.
 723° 
Marc Morais
We see ourselves
as a house of mirrors—
each reflection warps
to fit its frame

What else can we do—
we trim the edges
smooth out the light—
If the curve is wrong
we bend our sights

Do I add too much—
a borrowed shadow
stolen tints and mismatched colors
remove too little—
leave out the seam

We are never as we are
only as we fit
within what we let others see—
patched by memory
tilted to survive—
from shame
from fears
from the raging battle
of wanting to hide and be seen
all at once—
never finding balance

I am tired
of self-adjusting—
I want to get caught up in the rain
with someone who can walk
through mirrors
 482° 
Kaiden
You're like a safety pin.
Holding onto life for me
When i no longer can.
To this one special person.
 476° 
Megan E Hoffman
What draws me in, to this?

Is it love, or something twisted—
Said a mother to her daughter
It's so hard to tell the difference

                            But please;
                                     I need to know the difference

"
I didn't understand then
And I won't pretend to know much more now;
All I can do is try to not be angry
                          
                            And at that, I'll fail.
                                                           ­        But I'll learn

"
I used to believe in the world, with an innocent infatuation for its goodness

Now I believe, with a knowing compassion for its faults

...

I think things that are perfect are easy to love;

         We meet God in our love for that which is not
from my poetry book, 📖 Biting Thorns Off Roses
 398° 
alison
you cannot just walk in and out of my life.
I am not a door.
I am not a robot, so do not treat me as if my feelings don't matter, because I'm human, not anything else.
what else is new
What if two souls of symphonic stanza
With hearts full of haikus' hope
Met right here on Hello Poetry
By reading what the other wrote.

They'd send messages of meter
With affectionate allusions
This couldn't get any sweeter
Free verses with no conclusion

A poem crafted with emotions true
Was sent to one of the two last night.
It wants to say, "I love you more than words."
But instead reads, "I love the way you write."

They'll figure out in time that they're meant to be together
And I am sure that they'll make the cutest couple(t) ever!
Two poets are almost always meant to be
Especially if they meet on Hello Poetry!
 364° 
Nina
You
You still do to me
what spring does
with the cherry trees

you do it
in every season
my spring
all year long
 250° 
Dom
Cat-like in the way she sways
I am in awe of her-
Sensual little movements
Delicate confident strides
She wears a smile
Like contour-
Or
A
Ruby red lip.
Her eyes are emeralds
Piercing through atoms
Chasing souls like mice,
And with a glance -
I am caught in her claws, a toy.
 202° 
SHMBLS
H 1
&^% 465 (^^^^^^)   23048 ()()()()()()
      O 8111111
P }{|}{)&
%    57           8           7
  E! 3            8       8
509    7975  8 44{}}|+()*&
             6       9
4 +
)(*   5        {1____1}
Is fall
         i &
% (&%#$@ 90909
          n                E ^%$&^ 55
            g         S 41   5    7        378   38  8
                    I
Stars  will R 96=-++++
987    _)()_|}:{“”.       ()
&6.   321874

&)(}{|}{?>?<       () >8980675
Future Is Fleeting> {{{{8008)

LOST ITS MEANING 876”:}]' (((((~WOE IS ME~)))))


Spinning spinning spinning Am I? *&6.  32. )(&33.     0978”:}}{ L{:{}@%!$

Is? It? Progress? If? I? Spiral? In? The? Right? Direction????? 1248[;
76
HELP PLEP HELP!! *90000.      &&^$ (
&

Harder to notice, things that aren’t important.
Such as me




S        L
  H   B  S
    M






32 9 876 97 9 8 979 98 465406 42 53 793 8 9­7 53 8 58 7 5 574 6534 865 5 73695647 686 5 64 7 653 75 97 3 ­9754 765 46 685 7 5 0 0 75 7 6 9 9 6 765 59 65 4 5 53 9 64 462­ 7 64 65 23 659 75 3 0 6 7 4 76 65 56 376 49 75 4 08 587 875 807­ 5 3 32 8576 58 5 9 - 906 07564654 5 432 532 543 5647645253 12 ­ 98 977- 7 05437 54 85 6 5 67 5 07 8 786 7 785 6 5 7 7 856 ­ 86596 59 65807 0 876 7 687 5 657 64 96 74 76 46 4 6 875 78­05 874 6 476 34 64 76
 189° 
Daniel A Gabbard
The line between madness,
The line between normality,
The price to pay for loneliness;
I ought to pay with sincerity.

In a world of madness,
The normal are insane,
The right are arcane,
And the abused are ridiculed by sadness.
I ought these days to go aflame,
For now, my madness, needs no blame.
There is no notes to be.
 167° 
Kassie Holger
BFF
My best friend has a big place in my heart
He's a lost soul but it's only temporary
A fighter
He's been through so much
I admire and love him
As crazy as I am
I'll always be there for him
He reminds me of me as a boy
The only person who understands me
The only real person in my life
#realfriend #love #loyal #stars
Vanno verso le Terme di Caracalla
giovani amici, a cavalcioni
di Rumi o Ducati, con maschile
pudore e maschile impudicizia,
nelle pieghe calde dei calzoni
nascondendo indifferenti, o scoprendo,
il segreto delle loro erezioni...
Con la testa ondulata, il giovanile
colore dei maglioni, essi fendono
la notte, in un carosello
sconclusionato, invadono la notte,
splendidi padroni della notte...

Va verso le Terme di Caracalla,
eretto il busto, come sulle natie
chine appenniniche, fra tratturi
che sanno di bestia secolare e pie
ceneri di berberi paesi - già impuro
sotto il gaglioffo basco impolverato,
e le mani in saccoccia - il pastore
migrato
undicenne, e ora qui, malandrino e
giulivo
nel romano riso, caldo ancora
di salvia rossa, di fico e d'ulivo...

Va verso le Terme di Caracalla,
il vecchio padre di famiglia, disoccupato,
che il feroce Frascati ha ridotto
a una bestia cretina, a un beato,
con nello chassì i ferrivecchi
del suo corpo scassato, a pezzi,

rantolanti: i panni, un sacco,
che contiene una schiena un po' gobba,
due cosce certo piene di croste,
i calzonacci che gli svolazzano sotto
le saccocce della giacca pese
di lordi cartocci. La faccia
ride: sotto le ganasce, gli ossi
masticano parole, scrocchiando:
parla da solo, poi si ferma,
e arrotola il vecchio mozzicone,
carcassa dove tutta la giovinezza,
resta, in fiore, come un focaraccio
dentro una còfana o un catino:
non muore chi non è mai nato.
 140° 
Anais Vionet
We’re in a young-love recession.
Gen Zers are slow to trust and averse to risk,
we have, it seems, a particular social nervousness
about interpersonal exchanges and the symbiosis of love.

So we resort to situationships (undefined relationships),
a stratagem for closeness, with zero commitment.

You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance.
You can have a crush so big it blots out the stars
You can have transformative romantic encounters
you can care deeply and get hurt badly
you can, in fact, be absolutely wrecked by love
All without ever being in a relationship.

Thank God we’re only young once.
.
.
Songs for this:
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars
Busy Woman by Sabrina Carpenter
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/15/25:
Stratagem =  a trick or plan for achieving a goal
 139° 
Asuka
The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.

The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.
Take care, breathe easy, and give yourself the rest you deserve. Rest well, recharge, and remember, like the moon, even brilliance needs the night to shine again.

— A gentle reminder that even nature pauses to gather strength.
 139° 
Salmabanu Hatim
Is not easy,
You have to give in to your will.
41/3/2025
 134° 
Mina
𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸 𝚊𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠.
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚠.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗.
𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚎.
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝.
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 say 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.
𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎"
𝙾𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎
I have a full beard at 16
 133° 
McKinley Flynt
Oh dark eyes
With skin sagging mounts
Feed me your love
If you would remain open.

Cherish your soul
It's tired and dark
I'll feed it my love
If I could bear witnessing it.

Curtains closed
In your bedroom
And I would knock
If you would answer.

You should open your eyes
Open your soul
Open your window.
Because I would give you a world's worth of love.
^_^
 131° 
Poet
breathe
do you feel your lungs expanding?
do you feel you chest rising?
open
open your eyes
do you see the sun?
the moon?
the stars?
the clouds?
all of them were made for you
you
wonderful
       beautiful
                lovely
                                ­           YOU
sincerely,
someone who cares
 128° 
Eve
even after i lose my voice,
i will miss you in my bones.
even after my bones are ground to dust,
i will miss you in my flesh.
and when that flesh rots to feed the flowers
that grow above my skeleton,
and the child that will inhale the perfume
of my longing
will know that you are missed.
 126° 
Travis Green
I was enveloped in the dopeness
Of his striking good looks
His raw, glowing machismo
Treasuring the unparalleled appeal
Of his enamoring existence

He made my heart soar
With his alluringly glorious charmingness
Lifted me into a dreamlike state
As my gay world lingered
In his sensational embrace

He was a truly delightful adventure
To savor for eternity
His chiseled chest and abs
Were utterly breathtaking

I loved his sensual, commanding lips
His fresh ****** hair
His dark-honeyed eyes
His velvety, fresh-smelling hair

I meandered through the labyrinth
Of his enchanting dreaminess
Revering his sweetness and supremeness
Everything about him
From head to toe
 120° 
Lawrence Hall
A     n acrostic
C     an be challenging
R     efining words into patterns
0      f different meanings
S     o we can see the world
T     o be open to new ways of seeing
I       f we've a mind to
C      onsider it so
Anais-approved!
 116° 
Soul Searching
And then I sit on the branch of a tree, and things don't seem so bad.
The life of a poet lives on
through all their poems,
but the day I do depart,
I want to be cremated.

I will entrust family
and some fellow poets
to let my ashes sink
into some deep black ink.
And I'd want them to write
the stanzas I secretly saved
just for the occasion.

That way
they can say
that I put
all my heart
and my body
into poetry.
Literally.

My soul,
on the other hand,
would live on happily
as an eternal poet
having fun rhyming
while everyone's crying.
(and I'd wish they'd stop.)
I wouldn't want my loved ones to be saddened.  I'd want them to rejoice, knowing that my dream of becoming an eternal poet finally came true.
 112° 
BipolarBear
If I cannot direct these fiery flames,
then let them engulf me entirely.
Leaving not a single hair uncharred.
Sparing no feeling, only memory.

You run for me, pail of water in hand.
The water rises, and the water falls.
Like raging waves on a vengeful see -
Like the betallion of tears in your eyes.

Alas, it hits ground - my arm left outstretched.
Confusion and betrayal paint your face.
Angels like you, can't comprehend this hate.
While I generously give and take it.

Should I fail to control this raging gift;
I would rather be consumed than lose it.
Extraordinary failure suits me,
ordinary success just never did.
 102° 
Lyle
you rip apart the seams of this family
you are a hurricane and we are the destruction in your wake
you are a wildfire and we are burned
you are an earthquake but you aren't the one rattled
you have caused mass destruction and singed everyone you touched
you hate us
you natural disaster
 89° 
simmer
Your name brings me comfort
All these year later
I say it to myself when I feel most alone

For then another presence enters the desolate space between my ears
Warmth and familiarity replace lack there of
And just for a moment, in a time where I am lost
I am reminded of when every aspect of my being felt fully known
 88° 
Marc Morais
She is a good
girl—firm
as a rule

Waits her turn
steps light
knees tight
to the line
she's been given

But rules
have a way
of wearing thin—
like ropes
stretched too long
against want—
like doors
that we can't
keep shut

She is a good
girl
so good boys
always say yes
when she asks
nice
and proper
Songs To Get Railed To—Orgavsm

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGKKsbFdp6M
 82° 
hsn
a circle,
              (closed).

arms reach,
stretch,
but never
quite
touch.

    infinity spins  
                round —  
      no end, no start,  
                  but always moving.  

everything and nothing,
twirl,
dance —
a waltz of wisp and weight.

light glows,  
              soft, gentle,  
                         (but distant).  

the edges blur —
you almost see it,
almost touch it—
                                  but then it's gone,
                                              slipping —

           through cracks.  

completion?
or is it
just a loop —

                   a never-ending spiral?

    your place is here,  
                                        (but not yet).  
                   not yet.  

  the world,  
                  the world —  
         is beyond,  
                       above,  
                   inside.  

in every step,
                       every breath —
is the world.

                   you can see it.  
                   (you almost touch it.)  
     but it’s already gone.  

(it was never there.)  

    but you are.  

      spinning.  
             forever
                   waiting.
 74° 
Zywa
Women being watched

when they enter, nervously --


cling to their handbags.
Autobiography "Een leeg huis" ("An empty house", 1966, Marga Minco)

Collection "Em Brace"
 72° 
Joginder Singh
प्यार
जब एक जादूगर
सरीखा
लगने लगता है ,
तब जीवन
अत्यंत मनमोहक और
सम्मोहक
लगने लगता है,
इसका
जीवन में होना
मादकता का
कराने लगता है
अहसास,
आदमी का अपना होना
लगता है
भीतर तक
खासमखास।

किसी के जीवन में
प्यार की बदली
बरसे या न बरसे।
यह सच है कि
यह हरेक को
लगती रही है
अच्छी और सम्मोहक।

अहसास
प्यार का
जीवन घट में
कभी झलके या न झलके।
यह सच है कि
हरेक इस की चाहत
अपने भीतर
रखता रहा है,
यह उदासीनता की
कारगर दवा है।
इसकी उपस्थिति मात्र से
मन का नैराश्य
पलक झपकते ही
होने लगता है दूर !
बल्कि आंतरिक खुशी से
बढ़ जाता है नूर !!
यही वजह है कि सब
इसके लिए
लालायित रहते हैं,
इसकी प्राप्ति की खातिर
सतरंगी स्वप्न बुनते रहते हैं।
कोई कोई
इसकी खातिर ताउम्र
तरसता रह जाता है।
वह प्यार के जादू से
वंचित रह जाता है।
पता नहीं क्यों
प्यार एक जादूगर बनकर
कुछ लोगों के जीवन में
आने से रह जाता है ?
उनके हृदय में
हरदम कोहराम
मचा रहता है।
खुशकिस्मत हो!
जो यह जीवन में
अपनी उपस्थिति का
अहसास करा रहा है ,
तुम्हें और आसपास को
अपनी जादूगरी के रंग ढंग
सिखला रहा है ,
जीवन को सार्थक दिशा में
सतत् ले कर जा रहा है।
३०/०३/२०२५.
(मूल विचार ०७/०७/२००७ ).
 69° 
inverted soul
two guys want the same girl
one married
one head over heels

both taken by others
but want that same other girl
why would you share the same crush?

what is the deal?

to help each other obtain
fifty percent of the same?
play the same game?
please, will you explain?

does my buddy get my girl?

are you both really that for real?

not fight for the girl?

what the fu'ck is the deal?
 66° 
hannah
I,
I
I am
I am me
I am the collective
I am my mother’s laugh
I am my father’s forgiveness
I am my brother’s wish
I am my sister’s soul
I am my pride
I am my ego
I am me
I am
I
 66° 
Poetato
I'm running
Trying to catch peace that never arrives
Hiding between shadows
So I don't have to remember

I'm running
Erasing footsteps in exhaustion
Convincing myself
That distance will make the pain smaller
But the farther I go
The more real it becomes

No one is chasing
Except the truth keeps waiting
That it wasn't you I left behind
It was me.

Then I stop
Let the heart hurt
Let the pain speak
I won't run anymore
 64° 
nvinn fonia
bye bye mr american piee
 64° 
Leo
To be a friend ..
Some stories , I must believe,
Some nights , I must not sleep,
Some calls ,I must weep,
Some days , I must argue.
Some places, I must fight.
Some times , I must let go,
But at the dawn of life,
When I have few breathes left in me,
I must remember them..
And with a smile.....Sleep.
 62° 
Christopher
i have a corner for myself
a little crevice to feel safe
thoughts and emotions
dwell and swell
fanatic explosions of
genuine expressions of
what’s inside, embalmed darkness.

my little neural garden
sunflowers, petals broaden
her courage emanates;
her glow has become my sun
it would be nice, she be my own.
 62° 
Damiano
To be a piece of paper
Thrown at sea,
Crumpled—furiously
Unable to be.

To row against
Undaunted waves,
Tall as mountains,
Jagged as nails.

Oh, to wish
To greet the sand,
Just to meet
Some reader's hands.
 60° 
Nat Lipstadt
this kids,
is how you do it

in the mid of the dark hours,
when two am is your new oldest friend
when sleep, your oldest old one,
left town on the midnight train,
taking your peace of mind

though she is far away
lost in dream-thoughts caught,
but only twelve inches close,
granting you an unasked permission,
you ok to stroke her hair,
undisturbing her, yet comforting yourself,
every voice in your temple'd altar praying,
one glorious chorus godly chant:

Oh Lord, what would I do without her?

and you stroke her hair and are saved.


2:51am

May 2014
Next page