The Joy of Pain - Hello Poetry

Feb 2015

Mike lowe

If I told you I loved you today it would mean nothing tomorrow.

Blowing the dust off of old poems, some that were never finished because who wants to listen to love soaked poetry?

Wringing out my thoughts onto paper for someone to read them. Making sure they mean something so someone can feel them.

The world is made up of poetry. Some get the chance to hear it and some have the chance to write it.

Only the lucky ones can feel it. So drift away in my words and hold them tight.

Sit alone and read them at night. Fall into my words and land in my thoughts.

One thing is for sure, we all die. But our words and poetry have a chance to live on.

#love #poetry #words #thoughts #live #feel

Feb 2015

Robert Blankenship

Waving, See You Soon

I've always been one to stand and wave goodbye
When a loved one leaves my home
Stand and wave and watch till they are out of sight
It's just something I've always done

Like when mom and dad came to visit
I think it was in the spring
When the temperature was starting to warm
And the birds were beginning to sing

We would gather around the supper table
I'd get my Moma to laughing at me
Then she'd look outside and say "It's getting dark"
Then tell dad it's time to leave

I'd walk them both out to their car
Moma always had a few last words to say
I'd hug and kiss her tender cheek
Then I'd stand and wave as they drove away

I'd stand there and wave goodbye
Till mom and dad were out of sight
I only wish I could remember though
The date that marked that night

Moma always waved right back
Till in the distance behind she could no longer see
I waved goodbye see you soon
And Moma waved the same to me

That day I never thought that never again
Would Moma visit my home on a spring time day
I never knew that would be the last time I waved
Goodbye as they drove away

Moma if you can hear look down from heaven
See me as I wave
It's not a wave goodbye but see you soon
For I to am on my way.

RLB

Recalling the last time my mother came to my house to visit.
Someday we will never again wave goodbye.
Love you Moma .

Feb 2015

PrttyBrd

aurora asunder

Oh how I miss you most in the morning
When the sun speaks in volumes of light
When my world is hushed
And the earth is high

Yes, I miss you most in the morning
When the day begins anew
When fresh eyes see truth
And dreams still linger

My, how I miss you most in the morning
Facing the day wrapped in the warmth
Of my dreams
Eyes open to empty arms and a full heart
Oh, how I miss you most in the morning

2915

#love #life #dreams #distance #soulmate

Feb 2015

daisies

We Are the Universe

I'll have my heart in a gift box wrapped in see-through,
embellished with flowers, dedicated to you.
I'll spread a smear of glitter on it, maybe a little gold too,
so it doesn't seem so bitter, so overdue.

I hope it's vivacious; if it was pumping still,
and with prudent words you would overkill.
Its liveliness--once, now long forgotten--will decay in your palms.
Daffodils and daisies will melt into your hands, betraying all qualms.

Being the human that I am, obliged me to always seek knowledge.
I loved everything. Everything was a wreckage.
The fact that humans can cause this much damage enlightened me,
yet the thought of persuing self-destruction further could never set me free.

I was distraught till I was numb to the bones,
paralyzed on the cold tiles, silencing my own moans,
because what future awaits those who are namely the sick-minded,
the delusional, the know-it-all, the blindsided?

For spectators like us, we set everything into action,
to those who are less fortunate; the earth is flattened.
Their ideas, their meticulous theorems and allegories would all be dispersed,
by those who ignited the fire from the beginning. By the universe. By us.

#love #poem #thoughts #universe

Feb 2015

John Ashton Upston

Unlucky

All I ever wanted left me,
So I took it all.
All my lovers betrayed me,
So I ruined thee.
All I've ever known was subjective,
So I really knew nothing.
All my advice was selfish,
So I grinned right throughly.

I'm a wonderful caricature,
of what it means to be human.
Clowned up, and distorted,
that is the vision of me.
But worry not, fair sweet.
I'll be here as you worry and rot.
And I will feed.

I am all six circles of hell,
I am every demon.
I am the lie in the truth,
That glints so eagerly,
In the soft blue eyes of mine,
That can almost... make you feel mine.
Almost, but just out of a trance,
nay nothing ever was, just a circle,
That has never closed, just a cycle that,
has no history, impotent, yet
all consuming, I can't find the truth,
So I'll live in the lies, and they shall be,
The ties that I bind,
myself and others, delicately,
deliciously enjoying the feast,
I provide, alone, in the dark,
talking to those who live,
far far away in here, so that in my hell,
I can reside as king, and feel in control,
or an owner of something.

Yet still I awake,
stilly, I create,
These little poems on my own,
That you'll read on your own.
And you'll think, something but,
It'll be gone abruptly, as if you almost held a star,
but it twinkled unlucky.

Feb 2015

Molly

Coughing

I tried to burn the first flower you ever gave me but
it filled the room with smoke like
cigarettes and
I felt it fill my lungs like your
breath
when we used to kiss and
my throat is raw with missing you

Wrote this almost a year ago

#love #heartbreak #breakup #longing

Feb 2015

Dustin Matthews

Reflecting Hearts

When I peer into my soul,
I see my mate,
peering back.
A perfect reflection,
a mirror image,
of the strongest
love known to man.
Here we are. Forever us.

Feb 2015

b for short

come here and press my laundry

I have this feeling
that even if human beings
came with a tag of instructions
on how to care for one another
sewn on some conspicuous part of our person,
most of us would just ignore it.

We all just
machine wash jerkface,
tumble dry to broken pieces.
Tumble dry into
thousands
of little
broken
pieces.

And you can see it, you know?
On us.
Where someone didn't read
those directions carefully
or at all.
Where the colors ran—
reds to whites to pinks.
Where the holes are worn bare,
and the fibers shriveled and shrank.

So we live with those stains,
those noticeable imperfections.
We’re so conscious of it at first,
afraid that everyone will notice
that our instructions weren't followed.
We hesitate to let
someone else try their hand
at doing it right
this next time around.

But we gotta, 'cause
much like ***** laundry,
human yearning is
a ruthless, never-ending cycle.
Fighting it only really makes you
the smelly kid in class.

Just mind your delicates,
pay attention, take your time,
and hand wash that **** worth keeping.

Feb 2015

irinia

sadness in the naked sky

The longest silences are blue
All the unheard sighs settle in stones
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars,
And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.”
Distant clouds hide their simplicity
in fields of hope

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
The night sky whirls in the wind
its surprise and weeps.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
She was a wild woman; I, a violent man
She knew the stubbornness of tears
I knew the weight of sleep.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
Our mouths postponed day fall
and the silence of time.

On nights like this, we undressed our shadows
I was hers and she was mine
Painting with nakedness the sky
We were each other passion for falling
Our arms kept on crushing
the same way the same day
this forgetful undying.

*That’s all. Far away someone sings. Far away.

a poem from a series of what I call poetic dialogues with some of my favorite poets. for now Pablo Neruda and his "Saddest Poem"

Feb 2015

Lana

Mouth of Dust

He crushed her fortune cookies
one after another,
peeked into crevices
where the tender things lived,
plundered her secrets
like Godzilla out for an evening stroll,
leaving only flavorless dust
and damage in his wake.

Feb 2015

axr

kisses and lies

Raindrops felt like razors on their skin
She looked at him with eyes filled with tears
His gaze fixed at her
He leaned to give her another kiss
A kiss which sparked a lie she would live.

#love #heartbreak #kiss #sad #heart #pain #relationship

Jan 2015

Sydney Ann

Being Alone

There comes a time
When you need to realize,
Child,
That you cannot hold
Someone's hand forever.
One day
You must pick yourself up
And face this world
With the power inside you,
Not borrowed stuff from His heart
Or from what's in that syringe.
From inside **You

#love #freedom #heart #drugs #****** #power #him #breakup