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Infinity is so tedious
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Forever has no limits
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

This poem's got no end
it might go on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Repeat ad nauseam

Cynthia Pauline Jones 11/11/13
If I were at all musical, I would write a catchy tune to go with this and it would become one of those incredibly annoying earworms...

I hesitated over sharing this one. I regard it as possibly the silliest thing I ever wrote... and yet it gets more 'loves' than anything else I've put here - certainly more by a long way in the first 24 hours.
 Apr 2014 Jessica Pfeiffer
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
One
The world around me slows to a crawl,
No one around me knows me at all.
I look over the crowd of familiar faces,
From various times and different places.
They laugh and they play, one and another,
All with secret pains, I’m just like the others.
Blood moon reigns tonight,
Marking time of her leaving,
  .  .  .   Night sky is bleeding.
stillness
requires,
patience
requires,
consciouness
requires,
awa­reness
requires,
attentiveness
requires,
calmness
requires,
still­ness
~~~~~~~
~~~~~
~~~
~
there is an art
to being still
and allowing
the world to
enfold you.
~~~
I miss having
a home
not a
house
Daniel Magner 2014

how do I
get back
home?
 Apr 2014 Jessica Pfeiffer
Yael
I am like a penny in a well
Falling for forever
Yet filled with hopes and wishes
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