d - Hello Poetry

Apr 2016

Bailey

Untitled

calm down
grow up
slow down
shut up
sit down
man up
blade down
head up

stop hurting my friend

#no #selfharm #done #stupidity

d Apr 2016

Void

It's an ache unlike any other.
It's rough round each edge.
Hard to swallow,
it burns as it goes down.
It's constant.
Lover's quarrel.
Void in between each other.
Void in our bed.
Void in between each word.
Deafening.
Tu me manques,
I am missing without you.
Tu me manques,
without you, I am missing.
To me manques,
you are missing from me.

Apr 2016

sanch kay

unoriginal titles for poems about change

when i was young,
i only lived
between the pages of a book
between the words of a sentence
between Privet Drive and Baker Street
between bookstores and libraries
where I did not have to speak
to make friends;
where I made friends
who would not leave,
where I could leave
and return to see
that nothing had changed;
nothing, except me,
but only a little.

now that i’m older
i’ve been twice
to the other side and back;
i think i’d also like to live
between time zones and skylines
between silken sheets on starry nights
between your fingers and your eyes,
where conversations are passports
to other worlds in
in other hearts beating
in other bodies;

if only for just a little.

for #napowrimo. to you, from me.

#love #life #relationships #people #story #books #storytelling #ya #littleletterpoetry

d Apr 2016

103014

Things are messy
even when put together.
Even when in order,
neat and tidy,
alphabetically arranged.
But blood was spilt here and
no amount of bleach or apologies can remove the stain.
No amount of sanding, replacement or deep cleaning can erase what was let.
You'll scrub until your knuckles bleed
but the secrets that poured from what was broken will remain.
Fossilized for passing strangers and curious eyes.
The weathered plaque will read:
*"Humanity: the blood of what was, what is, and what will always be."

d Apr 2016

Tortoise and the Hare

I fear that the end goal
moves at a speed that surpasses our efforts infinitely.
Like the tortoise and the hare,
the tortoise will never be caught up to,
only lapped.
Likewise for the tortoise,
it is unable to reach the hare,
it serves only to be passed.
The speed at which our end goal moves past us
is entirely circumstantial,
similar to the tortoise and the hare.
We take ten steps towards our goal
and it has somehow managed to
already reach the first bend.
Saw we take another ten steps,
and physics will tell us again that our goal has reached the second straight while we have just come to the first bend.
And so the cycle continues,
a wheel of "unreality"
and yet I stay on the track even with this knowledge.
It's comfortable here,
I will admit.
And short term this is suited.
But my legs are beginning to hurt and
I've never been much of a runner.

Apr 2016

ayb

"This Generation's Poets"

we have lonely hearts,
and hungry hands,
and we want to love,
but we don't know how.
we have tired eyes,
and achy lips,
and we want to love,
but we don't know how.
we have too many thoughts
and no one to listen,
and we just want to love,
but we don't know how.
we have so much to give
and no one to take
and we will probably always be alone.
we have shaky hands
that only hold pens
and trembling lips
that only kiss cigarettes
and watery eyes
that never know how to look okay.
we are the ones you forget you raised this way,
teaching us fear
instead of how to love
or maybe just maybe we might know how.
we're the ones who make up things to believe in
to keep us going
and maybe we made up the concept of love
because we have no proof that it's real.

#alone #poets

Apr 2016

Emily Dickinson

The Sweets of Pillage, can be known

1470

The Sweets of Pillage, can be known
To no one but the Thief—
Compassion for Integrity
Is his divinest Grief—