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.
The dangerously glamorous life of Chateau Marmont, where everybody is racing at an incredible speed. Velvet nights fraught with promise and mystery under large canyon moons. Skinny dipping in the heated saltwater pool, bodies dripping wet, in the privacy of palm trees, old Hollywood charm in swaying leaves fanned across the indigo sky, as we dangled over the city. Parties in the hidden bungalows, punctuated by pinot grigio and mescal mules, in and out of bedrooms and beds and clothes. ******* on hands, car keys forgotten, I tore your silk shirt as you threw it off the bed.
dream Aug 27
My eyes met yours,
And yours, mine.
For that split second,
Stagnant, was time.
I looked away first,
I then walked away,
But I felt your gaze on me,
And mine did not stray.
BJ Donovan Aug 25
Closing Time Opera

  When the bar lights blink off and on
  and last call was announced half hour ago
  we calculate the odds as drunken poker
  players. The bar is full of sirens calling.
  These beauties must've snuck in recently
  cause I never saw them earlier. We take
  our measure and like dancers we choose
  partners and meet near the door and waltz
  away together into the night. We find our
  way to beds holding on for dear life
  as desperate lovers often do. We sleep.

  We wake in morning light aghast. One  
  of us has to do the walk of shame.
  We'll both perform this Opera again.
  Maybe tonight we can go to their place.
Seanathon Aug 14
The wild sigh
How it wavers and whips
Through the freshly cut sky
No man to see
Or to follow it
As it flees
And it fly's
Like a harvest scythe
Beneath the gentle breeze
It cracks
And whips
Stiring the sleeping mouth beneath
With it's shadowy eyes
How the fisherman
Doth crave the catch
So also does escape
The fly
Whip whip. Roll roll.
Liyah Bella Aug 9
i just want someone
anyone
to look at me the way he used to
Fugitive, fugitive, fugitive
You must not be fugitive
You must be active
Love your home
Make it as a groom
Adorn with every pomp on
To show himself handsome
Wear and pretty trim
And be always in the place
To lead all nations
Imitate its way, obey its say
Fear to be face
With yours at face
Fugitive, fugitive, fugitive
You must be passive
Do your work in active
Even others see you negative
Don't look at them
Don't hear their says
As they may be lies
Consider them as absent
They will destroy your active
, make you away of sight
And confuse your mind
To loose your mother
The home you belong
They dream to see you
As a remind of last
They thought that you
Is one of the past
If you obey them
You will be lost
Shake your head
To clean it from dust
That it is covered your head
That makes you the last
That makes you the worst
That appears your laziness
Wash it by water waves
Those are new sciences
Support your legs
Make you in advance
And high your home over heads
They will lead you downward
They learn you bad habit
As alcohol drinker
Or use drugs as converter
From good to be danger
Or women lover
Take you to the lowest
And make you forget
Your duty about your land
And you will be fugitive
Who will defeat the worst?
Who will face the devils?
That your prince
That is your ***
You must be proud
That you obey your ***
do not stop in hope. the sun rises surely
A tightness in my lungs pulls me under in a spell of forced muteness.
I slide my view up out of the rattling car.
The starry sky lighting up my irises and dazzling my brain.
Meanwhile the glops of tears forming in my eye drag the streetlights across my visible world.
Light torn away from its source
for only me.
Me, a crying passenger.
(a lighter piece sup *** wit tree)

'm, oh yes mud hum,
     who hoop fully iz zaftig
and/or mister
     Jack Rabbit, whoever wig
gulls or crinkles their nose
     creating a lil whirligig
at this bit of flummery unrig
yule lated impossible

     to make cogent
     and/or tangential with trig
perhaps best red
     after taking a swig
of vintage carrot juice with a sprig
of favorite herb, more'n enough
     to slake thirsting herd
     at the yearly

     Peter Rabbit shindig,
which senseless literary rig
ma roll even Bugs Bunny
     trump petting donned Taj Mahal
     swiftly tailored hare
     reed styled periwig,

     (would turnip his nose),
     button size or overbig,
yet all Joe King aside,
     and please do not think me a ****
excepting (Trix are for kids, eh...?)

this intentional faux paw, an
distress signal tis ideally geared
     for a Unitarian
     herbalist hook can
transform this pro
     fessed human imposter,
     (who in truth got cursed
     as a **** sapien

     by Bunny Foo Foo with elan)
particularly in the guise of Han
nub bull the cannibal,
     (whose unisexual name Jan)
also doubles up

     as my birth month
     dwells in Lan
zing, Michigan, and earns
     keeps employed as a nan

knee, yet experiences inner pan
dumb moan he yum,
     (seized with grippe to dig
     in Farmer Brown's garden), and ran
like the dickens
     all the way to Tran
sill vane ya leaping
     across Atlantic Ocean forced
     to adopt the lifestyle of a Van
dull with razor sharp buck teeth.
Feel (April 21, 2016)

Today I feel like I'm not here.
I take in my surroundings and think to myself,
They are not mine to take in.
Am I really here?
It feels as though my very being could be waved away with the simple swing of an arm.
I feel, but the only thing I feel is the overwhelming inability to feel.
Today I feel unreal.



p.p.
I found this in my draft's. I haven't been on here since 2016.
Next page