Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
With blistered hearts
We seek solace
In hands of strangers
Dehydrated...
By the heat of our own lusts
Emotions, wild and bizarre
Making our eyes sweat!

Sentimental decisions
Backed with illogical logic
Mesmerized by the unknown
Anything to **** the pain
Drugs, alcohol, women,
Daredevil adventures
Especially on a cold night.

One minute in love
The next second in hate
The vicissitudes of emotions
Uncontrolled and sporadic
With eccentric rhythms and rhymes
Crushing whatever's left
Of already broken hearts!*


© Raphael Uzor
His Sun of righteousness
Beams into my ***** secrets
Revealing rotten intentions
Orchestrated by self will and hatred

Leaving me ashamed of my filth,
Aware of my guilt,
Conscious of my void,
Convicted of my sin!*


© Raphael Uzor
By day she was,
A bouquet of red roses
Sultry with honey
Smelling of divine ambrosia
Giving more than I dreamed...

By night she was,
A bouquet of dead roses
Covered in cobweb
Smelling of poison and death
Taking more than she gave...*


© Raphael Uzor
Beware of such "gifts"
We die every night
Fortunately, we wake up,
Yawn, and say, "morning!"*


© Raphael Uzor
 Apr 2014 Folorunsho Obalugemo
J
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.
^^^let us live through our poetry
Next page