#2017 poems on Hello Poetry

CPM Oct 2017

full

i do not need you
to fill the parts of me
you think are empty

i am mine
and i am more full
than i have ever been

- *CPM

#2017

CPM Dec 2017

10:14 p.m.

you* need you.

- *CPM

#2017

CPM Dec 2017

starting point

my mind is ready to move on
but my heart only knows how to stay.

-*CPM

#2017

John AD Dec 2017

(21)12062017

Tomorrow I'm getting older,
Maybe it's worse but I don't care,
Just planning my life to be free,
Smiling every day, lookin' at the trees
Falling leaves, escape from insanity
Been here since 96 , until the day I learned to speak.

I've opened my eyes, mind ,and soul,
In my past , I'm blind from reality
As I am getting older, I learned to observe and seek the society.
Now I'm turning 21 can you see the maturity ,
Or still trapped from anxiety

But I'm happy being myself ,
Because since the day I was born ,
My family is teaching me the way,
To have a good personality.

Tomorrow(Just another day)

#kaarawan #birth #natasbirth #john #21 #1206 #2017 #philippines #bataan #black

Brendan Roher Nov 2017

Homeless

Is it a little pitiful thing
Shut and lock
My shutters rock slightly
And a light enters, subtly
I know what beckons me
And recognize it well,
Wholeheartedly
Fear and anxiety
Haunt my walls and furniture
Like a putrid odor:
I harbor what little will is left,
Do you still think me pitiful, yet?

It slithers in
A flowing, glowing sinner
It is the true winner
And a shining, plundering wonder
Eliminates my incense
Showers me
And makes me cower
In my own existence
Foster, don’t I still foster some adopted hope?
Outside strength
Inside weakness

And it's all blocked out of me
And I'm left alone in the colliding powers
And it explodes in my face, flammable
Understandable, for me.

And I'm homeless
Again, it seems.

#doubt #poems #poetry #newpoems #2017 #fear #anxiety

Emma Nov 2017

2017

2017- The year of laughs
Late night stories
Told under stars
Sand under toes
And fire in our eyes

2017- the year of deaths
Young friends
Taken too early
Afraid to speak
Failed attempts
Of a hopeless boy
And thankful prayers

2017- the year of heartbreak
What was thought to be love
Swept away by others
Who should have stepped back
A fresh start
With a new face
Only to be forgotten

2018- The year of new starts
New faith
New love
New holds
New mind

#2017 #2018 #love #laugh #heartbreak #death #suicide #faith #deep

Dylan Mcconnell Nov 2017

To Love.

Love. Love is so much. Love can be that hug you get at just the right moment. Love can be the song she showed you. Love can be the first time you two had *** on the bathroom floor. Love can be an object.

Love is the sound of a pen writing and typewriter clicks. Love is the sound of keypad clicks because you know that means they're typing something just for you. Love is playlist after playlist. Love is the sound of knitting needles going back and forth and back and forth because she's knitting the scarf for you. Love is the sound of the perfume/cologne bottle spritzing. Love is the sound of pottery. Love is the sound of comforting words. Love is the sound of confessions late at night. Love is the sound of hang-up buttons and cars starting up. Love is.

Love is the feeling of the universe and stars moving to my brain stem and *******. Love is the feeling of you kissing my lips and moving slowly until you're at my collarbone. Love is the feeling of you moving my fingers to match yours. The feeling of poetry being written about me. The feeling of the zoo and butterflies, and even the robin outside moving around in my stomach because that's how you make me feel. Love is.

Love is the sight of you in the red dress that I bought you for our one month anniversary. Love is the sight of the paragraphs when I wake up. Love is the sight of seeing your wrist clean for a year. Love is the sight of waking up and realizing it's our one year anniversary. Love is the sight of nakedness. Love is the sight of you smiling. Love is the sight of our first date and delicious looking food.

Love is the smell of ha long bay and ginger tea. The smell of perfume on your girly days and the cologne on your not so girly days. Love is the smell of our house, along with bath and body works. Love is the smell of your hugs and your chapstick. Love is the smell of fresh vinyl and flower bouquets. Love is the smell of marshmallows and a crackling fire. Love is the smell of **** on my favorite sweatshirt. I love the smell of your sweatshirt and that's perfect.

Love is the taste of ha long bay. Love is the taste of her lips and chapstick against me. Love is the taste of wine and blood. Love is the taste of well, love. Not much to say for taste is there? Love is you.

#cheesy #love #hopeless #romantic #2017

Panda Boy Nov 2017

Two Thousand and Seven-teens.

Nature’s broken off brown paper
Crumples inwards and caves inwards.
Flickers of marching band trumpets
Within the harsh sounded breezes.
Ages may always repeat
Yet one always comes and goes.

There is a sure stir in the air
As time seems to be in favour.
New short waves from the next
Generation show maturity.

The buildings shift,
But those who crawl back
From labour hours
Wait for something big;
One small tick.

This current softness,
From one year only before,
Seems to be
A global calm
Before the storm
Of change.

change?

#2017 #nature #age #time #storm #change #future

Harry Roberts Nov 2017

Divided

LGBT
We claim we want acceptance,
But how can you fall under this umbrella
If you hold Hate towards
Your community.

Transphobia, your prejudice
Makes your insecurities transparent.

Biphobia, your intolerance makes
You what you can't tolerate. Hate.

Homophobia, like Biphobia
Love is love
Not preordained
From forces above.

Discrimination could never
Build a nation,
Just change the narrative
To fit the occasion.

Those in Power
DIVIDE AND CONQUER,
You've heard that so why so
Divided.

A small poem expressing how I perceive a division within my "community."
Love to all, Live and Let Live.

#lgbt #2017 #division