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 the community to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
I'm digging my words up out of the books,
flinging them over my shoulders like dirt
as they lift from the page and flit in and out of my eyes,
barely keeping me concious.

I try to fill up my gut
with the gritty syllables that I can't actually hear,
flung up from the holes in words,
between pages,
between worlds.

I press my fingerprints into the fine, aging paper,
knowing it will help me later
to cover up the void I'm filling with words.

Maybe if I can force my eyes to stop staring at sideways spines
and straightup people looking just fine,
I can make myself focus in the scent of the decay wafting up from between the words,
or I can make myself read between the lines,
instead of struggling to read the blurry spines
that I can't help but watch.
I can't pay attention to anything, but I am spending every lunch and every study hall in the library now.

09/17/2018 2233
i've always noticed you
but you've never noticed me
to you, i might as well be
part of the scenery
i'm just another face
in an endless shifting sea
and that's a little sad for you
because there's nobody like me,

there are a million things i'd do for you
but i'll never face that test
i'd stay up all night holding you
if you wanted to rest
i'm living happily with you
but only in my dreams
if you ever wanted me
i'd treat you like a queen

but that's just your loss, honey
your heart will never feel my luxury

you would always be
my top priority
i'd treat you better
than i treat myself
no one else could
compete with me

but that's just your loss ¯_(ツ)_/¯
aight that's cool too
Gods1son Sep 9
Thoughts are attention seekers
YOU are the chooser!
Thoughts will always come, you decide the one(s) to dwell on!
Was I not enough?
The words that spill from your tender lips and your scent that lingers
Little by little it got sharp and rough.
Your glittering heart was never easy to catch; but swiftly and ignorantly, it slip away from my fingers
The closer you get with someone else
The worst thought takes over me; that now you’re bored.
“Oh they’re just dense”
The words your friends once told me now morph the trait that I once adored.
Swiftly and ignorantly, you fly off to other people.
I can’t stop you from going to them instead of me
When I ask you why, your answer is always simple,
They give me more attention and let me be free.
How much more freedom do you need?
When will my attention be enough?
Maybe I never actually caught your heart indeed.
Maybe I wasn’t enough
When will I be enough?
Gary Brocks Aug 27
My work day woke to Monk,
the click of typing keys,
clock watched, Spotify playing,
random thoughts rose like bees
to freeze in these jagged lines,
then swarm in threatening flight.

Hours of data entry later,
on a stool, in a bar, a clock's
hands tock, I flick a wrist,
and slur my words concluding  
an anguished monologue,
“They call it work, you know.”

Awash at home, in the strobe of
pixelated panel light,
visions surge and dissipate
with the pulse of the night. Osip,
were you tempered to embrace
attention’s fugitive caress?

You etched memory’s texture
with candle soot for ink,
and the gulag’s blackened gaze -
I type lines by hunt and peck
humming Monk’s WELL YOU NEEDN’T,
hoping for an adequate phrase.

Copyright © 2004 Gary Brocks
180826F

Osip Mandelstam was a Russian poet and essayist. He a leading member of the Acmeist school of poets. He was arrested by Joseph Stalin's government in 1934, and sent into internal exile.  After a reprieve, he was rearrested and sent to a camp in Siberia in 1938, where he died that year.
— From Wikipedia: "Acmeist poetry"
===
The Acmeists strove for compactness of form and clarity of expression; they preferred "direct expression through images", in contrast to the Russian symbolist poets who strove for "intimations through symbols"
Osip Mandelstam defined the movement as "a yearning for world culture", and as a "neo-classical form of modernism", which essentialized "poetic craft and cultural continuity".
Each major acmeist poet, interpreted acmeism in a different stylistic light, for example from intimate poems on topics of love and relationships to narrative verse.
— From Wikipedia: "Osip Mandelstam"
Jack L Martin Aug 23
Pay Attention!

Who would name their child, "Attention?"

Attention works in the ticket booth

Five cents per entry

Surprise of the Century!

It's crazy inside!

So, Pay Attention

if you want to take a ride.

ADHD

from this you can't hide.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Methylphenidate

is great!

.

.

.

.
skribbler Aug 22
Why do you need so badly for someone to love you?
What is it you search for in every empty room?

For someone to notice the shell that you found,
To dig a bit deeper and feel all around,
Until he stumbles over himself and falls,
And you dodge his body and walk along?
I'm not even saying to you that it's wrong,
we are creatures underneath after all.

But the shell is just a lure I'm sure,
and it looks nothing like the one you bore before.
I've yet to see one that has changed more than yours.
Maybe they had a reason
For crying to sleep at night
For taking all those pills
For having sex with strangers
For being so mean
For caring to much
For seeking the attention
For always being late
For being themselves
Random
You smell like love
The scent of arousal with a hint of lust
Desire of an unknown perfume

You taste like sex  
A taste that will last forever
The flavor fresh when my face slipped inbetween your legs

You felt so wet but was as sweet as honey
My hand feeling every inch of your body
Fingered inbetween your virginity

You sound like heaven
Your whining intoxicating like poison
Your voice seductive as it gets

You felt swift as you showed me the woman in you
Riding your hips gliding without hesitation
You felt innocent and naive as I guided your hips

You loved the taste of me thrusting into you
Crying out my name your face filled with pleasure and lust
You love the flavor of me going further than before

You drowned in my attention relished it
Hungered for it you were lit up by my infatuation
You felt a hot spark and electric energy that sent tingles to the very center of you

You just made love my dear
This is what love means to me
Mary Frances Aug 21
You captured my eyes,
my attention.
Now, you're slowly capturing
my affection, and with that,
my heart.
Next page