Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
i'm always *****
sure, it's beneath my visible clothes
and yeah, when i'm in the shower
and more or less every time i'm home alone
but there are other times
other whimsical nonsensical times
when i'm fully ****
and nobody even notices
when i'm raw
when i expose any facet of my idiosyncrasies
when i fall
when i suppose i'm in pain purposefully
when i draw
when i paint with a purpose to show my sadness and rage
when i write
when i put words to use in the way conversation betrays
people react to ****** in various levels of extreme
some get aroused
some get repulsed
but nobody seems to appreciate the nakedness of my raw mind
completely exposed
full frontal
appreciate it or just don't look
now that i have your attention...
Naash Oct 8
Max
His arms feel like home,
When home doesn't feel like home.
His firm grip secures this body, this house that  many weird things reside in.
His lips are too good to be of human flesh.
They talk and kiss sense to me.
The little things matter to him
And for the first time ever in my life,
I need not to worry.
Need not to cry.
Need not to hurry.
Need not to shy.
A rate tall skinny totoro,
One that I get to call mine
Alex Zhang Oct 6
I can squeeze myself like an orange
Giving my sweet and sour soul
To sate the thirst of passerby
Whose stomachs will never be full

Strangers sipping saccharine nectar
Spitting putrid pulp
Tasting only the sweet of fruits
Wasting what makes us whole

I give my body for others to love
Not for them to take
My personality is part of me
Not a divisible buffet
I see you…
With eyes that belie my weakness.
And a heart in humble meekness.
I see you, and your uniqueness.

I feel you…
With an embrace to enmesh us.
Sustained passion to refresh us.
I feel you, and why you’re precious.

I perceive you…
Your awesome aura and mystique.
The answer to the love I seek.
Perceive you, precious and unique.

You…
Of this unique revelation.
Preciousness of your creation.
To perceive precious and unique—
That defines appreciation.
In "*** In Search Of Man," Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, "Appreciation is not the same as reflection. It is an attitude of the whole person. It is one's being drawn to the preciousness of an object or a situation. To sense the preciousness of being able to listen to an imperative of ***; to be perceptive of the unique worth of doing a mitzvah, is the beginning of higher kavanah."
The definition of "appreciation" as perceiving the unique preciousness of something stuck with me ever since I first read that passage.
Follow on Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Arke Sep 28
ten years ago, you sat next to me
propped against a wall on my bed
strumming each string
of my red electric guitar
tuning the cords, slowly, gently
too embarrassed to play a song
you were going to be a lawyer
I was going to be a journalist
we both had high hopes then

our usual food order was tater tots
with extra (extra!) sauce and
pad thai in a box which we'd swap
back and forth in between sips
of whiskey from your metal flask
sitting on the curb of the parking lot
late at night after everything closed
both exhausted from work

you brought me a cd in the hospital
I listened to it a hundred times
I know all the lyrics to every song on it
even a decade later
the music is still ours, you know
we gift each other mix tapes
you always include a song
by my favorite band (thank you)
I couldn't make you just one playlist
because all music reminds me of you

our conversations flow easy
we bounce back and forth
teasing, joking, talking openly
you always make me laugh
and I don't tell you this enough
but I love you and our friendship
even when we go months
without ever talking to each other
what we have is beautiful and
so important to me, I cherish it every day
You ever think about what you'd tell people before you die?
Idle love sways around
Capitalizing on what's done
Filling narrowly the fissures beyond hurt
As profound **** gnaw at berated flesh.
Mimicking actions entitled for the best,
Woes trawled at peace, slicing forgiveness
Leaving the immoral of humanity senseless.

Acute arbitrations mingle solely around favors
Spectating drudgery amongst humans and its nature.
For wreaths fall closely, to dreams of being needed
And pleasures steep low from dreamers with bright egos.
Ayla Sep 24
As if time exists only in the mind
the wind grasps lofty organics
gently dancing with gravity,
a romance delicately practiced.

Eternity may be what it takes
to tune nature to perfection.
Sun-kissed and free-falling
love isn't in the air,
love is the air.

The leaves, like the birds,
eventually take their leave from the trees
in unison, the most beautiful of dreams.

To be a spectator is a blessing,
living is our chariot
and so we ride.
We ride day by day
and into night
solemnly and with delight.

Autumn is upon us at last.

This reality sometimes taken for granted
makes the little things easy to miss
but pausing and taking a moment
to listen with soulful eyes
to a melody carefully crafted
through generations of evolutionary bliss
presents a grand masterful experience,
one worth cherishing whole-heartedly.

One I'd never seek to miss.
Autumn is upon us...
Brad post Sep 17
A wildfire of color races across the night sky, somehow managing to be bright and beautifully dull at the same instance.
The earth is tipping, tipping, tipping. Using this racing color show as it’s farewell for another day.
You always loved this moment.
You always loved the moment when the colors sharpened against that steadily increasing backdrop of black. Red, to orange, purple then pink. It was the time that *** loved us the most you used to say, to give us such beauty and to learn to appreciate it because it is gone in such a brief moment.
Like you were.
You were my sunset, my beautiful moment that did not last long enough, and unlike you I didn’t appreciate that flash of brilliance.
I do now.
Unlike the sunset, the morphing of hues of colors that seem to blend endlessly into that final cresciendo, I let the black seep in until all the colors had faded away.
I wonder where you are now.
I wonder if you are watching this.
I wonder if you are thinking of me.
I wonder if you appreciated the wildfire, no matter how brief, that was Us.
I wonder....
Next page