The latest poems on Hello Poetry

Sabeer Amin 4d

babies cry when they’re born,
it's a good thing actually
counterintuitive to what we would assume
a sign they’re healthy and ready for the world
my father likes to joke and say “they cry because they realize they’re born into an evil world”
there was a seed inside of me
festering, eating away at the insides of my brain
a hoarse, childish voice admonishing me because of my guilt
any mistake i would do, amplified tenfold
the inventor of the mirror poisoned my heart
my reflection embodied the hoarse voice, and everything was my fault
a tragedy, a family attacked and robbed in their homes by intruders
why did i picture myself as the victim and the perpetrator
i think i was ****** up
at a lake as a child, i threw a rock into the empty water
a head surfaced, and the rock struck them
they still don’t know it was me
an accident really, but its like i took the rock, with droplets of blood on it
stains that even the lake can’t remove
and i swallowed it whole
cutting my insides as it resided in my stomach
my acid isn’t strong enough to disintegrate it
i cried alot as a child, so much so that i think i have no more tears left
an empty reservoir, if i could cry blood i would
just to have that same sensation again, that comfort
i didn’t believe that i was deserving of good things
my life, permeated by these thoughts
maybe i have an obsession with martyrs
everyone wants their life to mean something
maybe i want to have a cause so badly, to make up for some sin
some trouble i got into as a fetus
whatever you want to call it, bad karma, a reincarnated fascist dictator
i owe it to my soul, to my spirit, and to myself as a child
maybe i’ll sacrifice myself to destroy every mirror on earth
only in ponds would you be able to see yourself
hoarse voices are muted in water.

Michael John 4d

lily considers her play-list

lily considers her play-list
she says,or i will just get ******
a lot of eighties..

creation is born of suppression
the victorians,thatcher..regan..
(we went to the sun)

ii

i had one room
a concrete box with
a large wardrobe-the sole

decor-a concrete floor
and a great piece of wood
for a door

the key to heavy to carry..
the back-door opened to the sea
and there i did my daily ablutions..

and when there was a storm!
it all came down..i sat and watched
the light..

when we had *** the first time r
remember?
the land lady sat in attendance?!

you hid..she said,avrio..mikalis,
you go and i said don´t you worry
about that..

but i did nt..i loved that room
i wonder if it is still there..
i hope so..

iii

bored with it already
she tosses her head
she says music and dance is

her therapy..spontaneity is a thing..
but that key was a problem..
too heavy to carry and if left

on the table,attracted attention..
i would have to pocket it
if i went to the toilet

and this suggested distrust..
but the door was beautiful
old and creased and green..

iv

and the landlady was ok
she would feed me
tell me not to lose the key..

the room was completely barren
only the sea..
the little rock pool my friend..

Marshal Gebbie 4d

Nicklelodeon

Melancholy is thy name
Though you claw, always, for fame,
Serendipity, thy way
Despite the fact you seldom pay?
Riddles in their issues reek
Like thee, they just decline to seek!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ

Oh the riddles of we poor estranged mortals,
Name for fame but seeks to speak,
Reeks to seek his way to play......
Jeez Nick, which ever way we pay to play this riddle... it reeks!
Ha!
M.

Geof Spavins 4d

Wildchild Jesus, Come to Me

Wildchild Jesus, come to me,
With windswept hair and eyes that see,
The broken soul, the bound, the free,
You walk where mercy dares to be.

Wildchild Jesus, fierce and kind,
Shake the dust from hearts confined.
Lead us where the wild winds blow,
To love the world and let it grow.

Not robed in gold, nor crowned in pride,
But clothed in grace, with arms stretched wide.
You speak in fire, you move in rain,
You heal the heart, you bear the pain.

You danced through deserts, crossed the sea,
You broke the chains and set us free.
You loved the lost, the least, the lame,
And bore the cross without a name.

So come, Wildchild, Spirit flame,
Disrupt our fear, erase our shame.
Let holy wildness rise and sing,
Of love that burns, of truth that stings.

In silent storms your heartbeat roars,
A thunder in our restless souls.
You sow new paths behind closed doors,
And make our shattered spirits whole.

Wildchild Jesus, fierce and kind,
Shake the dust from hearts confined.
Lead us where the wild winds blow,
To love the world and let it grow.

Geof Spavins 4d

Not Yours to Hold

I left, not because I didn’t care,
but because care felt like a
t   i   g   h   t   r   o   p   e    w   i   r   e
strung across your moods.
I tiptoed,
hoping not to f
                              a
                                     l
                                           l
into the c          m of your silence.
                  h    s
                     a

You say I chose.
And maybe I did.
But choosing peace doesn’t mean I never wanted you.
You wished I had stayed.
I wished you had seen me before the goodbye.

You speak in switches;
Yes, no.
Blame, regret.
Like you're still rewriting the ending.
Hoping the script forgives the sting.

You say you never betrayed,
but what do you call the slow erasure of effort?
The absence that smiled and said it wasn’t personal?

I remember the warmth.
I do.
But I also remember the chill that came after you wanted me to read between lines that were never written.

You weren’t my boss, no.
But you were a map I couldn’t follow.
Every step felt like trespass.
So I drew a door
|. |
and walked through it.

And still, I think of your games.
But I don’t play anymore.

Maria Etre 4d

Romantic Gravity

Come to me with a heavy heart
and I'll show you
how fast
the fall
is

#fall #love #weight