#free poems on Hello Poetry

Norbert Tasev 1d

The latest reality In Reality, it seems as if once again total amateur actors are trying to perform completely incomprehensible group therapy screaming-frass plays, they have all taken an unfair, brainwashing pill, as if they were deliberately drug addicts and had to urinate into a cloaca cage. In the reigning fever dream, King Lear's madness seems more and more like a pathetic experiment. The precious self-censorship is not as valid here as the usual series of mutilations.

The instinct-desire of the brutal shell of the outrageous, pathetic exhibitionists is increasingly lurking; is it necessary for everyone to gallivant on the so-called casting couches?! As if everyone is their own Lebowski and paparazzi, because even the UFOs don't like - at least not - to come here, where everyone steals and robs everything and everyone. More and more, the Nothing-beings, brain-wasting idiot-ants, want to tell you what is possible and what is not possible.

Toothpick-like gold teeth in the gaping mouths of each gangster-rapper, Everyone is already getting ratings and another meaningless scalp. Coughing dogs bark sermons about the unattainable luxury dreams of well-being, which - of course - the simple average person will never be able to achieve in their stinking life, from worms to worms, the offspring of this current Jelen are stumbling around more and more empty, deceived human wrecks.

Organically embedded in the category of cheapened paradise metaphors, more and more people are becoming back-peeing stuntmen, hanging on iron cat chains, like well-trained, brainless wild testosterone gorillas, who are punched and thrashed in pop culture - not that many -, wrestling mode. Drowning in massed satire and satire. A small morbid congratulation to the producers and influencers.

#poetry #poem #free #verse #lyre #literature #life #social #contemporary

Elena M 1d

You, my love…

You… are you alright?
No smile on your lips,
How is your day passing?
Do you ever wonder what poems
I write when you’re away,
Even if I never share them anywhere,
Out of fear… of what?

But ****… fear of what?
Tell me karma isn’t peeking through the window…
Don’t you feel it?
Smoke slipping through the walls,
Air curling into fingers,
Open field… storm above, or just a vivid imagination?

You, my love…
No matter how deeply I hide you,
Beyond heart,
Reason,
Pride—
How could you believe
My poems
Have already forgotten you?

#love #longing #intimacy #free #verse #confessional #poetry #romantic #melancholy #missing

Norbert Tasev 2d

UNIVERSAL LESSONS OF FAILURE

I would still search for the dormant Time, to which the playfulness of a playground child is rarely connected, the reasons for the hazelnut-brown chestnut dolls with which man could play; as if processions of unarmed, fate-chased memories were walking one after another on the shelves of my mind. Existence will soon become a despondent requiem, which thought has given content to, just like the methods of hasty, mistaken escapes, the universal Lack wrapped in the shell of petty, false truths.

The quick nervousness of a neurotic can also absorb the worries and anxieties of a stripped existence at any time; that it would often be better to look evilly and laugh at the terrifying Death with its Janus-face, which greets us with the countdown of our birth. We should fight in slow motion - not only with reason and arguments - but with the facts of causal connections, so that the curses of petty problems do not consume a person.

Now we would rather intentionally lie to ourselves about our mercy, our childish naivety, But it would often be good if not only the evening harmony-silences could arrive on tiptoe - but also the instinct-desires of the Universe offering salvation, that through every cursed somersault-tumbler it is sometimes necessary to forget the lesson and the test, before only a person is singled out; he carries within himself, like two brothers, the Lack and the conscious infinity.

Before the abyss of the outcasts, one should still talk to one or two eternal friends, Not to unnecessarily pull the risk of infarction factors with broken rope nerves. From some invisible crevice, suspicious distrust snakes its way up, daily testing the trust and humanity that we thought were eternal.

#poetry #poem #free #verse #lyre #literature #life #social #contemporary

Sherri Woodman 2d

Set Yourself Free

Is that a glimmer of hope in your eyes, a smile that's starting from deep inside? Could it be that that shadow of doubt, has been exorcised, has been cast out? Maybe you now believe in yourself, it's time you join everyone else, Life is better amongst good friends Let go and be free, let the doubt end Everyone has fears in their life don't let them keep you confined Unlock the shackles of anxiety Run, don't walk set yourself free

#free #anxiety #doubt

Namib Dusk 2d

Serendipitously Morbid

That’s my take on life.

It’s like finding a beautiful old diary in an abandoned house, only to realise…it belonged to someone who died tragically.
It’s like accidentally stumbling on something morbid (say this poem haha), that hopefully, ends up changing your perspective in an oddly fascinating way.
In an oddly, maybe, for the better way. For the experiences you’ve made. For the possibility to reflect. Grateful for the transformation nonetheless.

Serendipitously morbid, that’s my take on the world…and I am starting to think that’s alright.

I AM NOT advocating for a bleak view of life, please DO seek out its joys, for they stay scarce sometimes. What I am advocating for, is the quiet beauty, hidden in moments that ache.

I am advocating, to not too quickly blame ourselves for having those morbid thoughts or for being pessimistic sometimes. That it’s alright to not see the endgame sometimes.

At least that’s what I think. I think acknowledging the constant tension of both extremes and learning to accept the ambivalences of life (in their truest, overwhelming forms) is simply seeing it for what it is.

Seeing it for what it is, in my opinion…is the beauty in finding the will, to want to see it through. The beauty in believing in a higher Power, in love, in happy endings and most of all learning to believe in Yourself.

We are thrown into this world, with no idea whatsoever of; what is to come, how to go about going there or where THERE, even is. The world just continues to run its imperfect course and no one has the script for it.

To be completely honest, I really like having scripts for things.
TIS(-m) the way I have functioned most of my life. So, I too am learning to adapt to the ambivalences of this Serendipitously Morbid life. Learning to revert from the B&W thinking.

Yours in brighter days,
Namib Dusk

#free #verse #reflective #melancholic #*** #little #bleak #beautiful

Norbert Tasev 3d

Chronicle of Devoured Illusions

In the window-sized, mini World, it seems as if the city with the smell of Nineveh is only visible in spots. As if everyone is already organically recognizable; the Apocryphal sigh has carved secret signs in the cracks of faces, as if the beginning and end have all flowed into one big puddle. Reality has long ago devoured the entire showcase of illusions and pretense, while in the epicenter of petty, nauseating exhibitionisms, it always becomes second fiddle, who wants to stay organically out of things.

Because now it seems as if the fearful eternity is cutting deeper and deeper spiral circles for itself, man can also be a freed prisoner only in the crumbs of everyday garbage heaps, and no rain-speaking Angel embraces the shipwrecked souls with his protective wings; the Executioner-Time pulverizes them with words, because the time of reckoning has come. Even escape squeezes its compromised victims into a vacuum of decades, since - in many cases - it is hardly possible to hide or flee anywhere.

This is a cruel lesson, a silent game, visions of lead ore torture the still crouched, selfish moments of the living unnoticed; sluggish memories, tamed childhood magics keep vigil waiting for further prey. Character, human humanity, falls into small pieces, just like a tower built of shaky building blocks. It would often be better to urinate into the wind, just in case the cold shower doesn't come so unexpectedly.

We deliberately suppress our whining voice left over from childhood; we don't have to face the fact that we didn't grab the starvation-wage life annuity in addition to pension insurance. Even so, there is less and less money in our accounts, and something trickles in here and there.

#poetry #poems #free #verse #literature #life #social #contemporary

NostalgicFeeling 3d

If we cannot afford the morning light

If you only know how to hold me at night,
If we cannot afford the morning light,
Then release me at the dawn.

You were never mine to hold,
I was never yours to mold,
We just rented the hours,
Borrowed the rooms.

As the waves crash against the shore,
Erasing our footprints before sunrise,

Open your palms,
Let me be the bird,
That leaves before the window closes.

2/10/25
The cost of the morning light

#love #night #free #bird #time #cage #sad #poem #room #palms

Norbert Tasev 4d

ECHOES IN THE CAGE OF BROKEN PROMISES

Nowadays, people sweat a lot because of guilt, manipulation, hypocritical guilt. It is certainly difficult, because in the true shell-consciousness of solitude, even their own selfish silences can trickle down. They would rather voluntarily close in on themselves, just don't let them be noticed by chance. They can never see the secret scale, they always judge only themselves, It is known: it is necessary to swim without a flutter from the ground of Reality towards something completely uncertain...

Because promises made to the extreme, well-sounding truths often snap suddenly like stretched string-nerves; even hearts that dictate true sincerity sooner or later compromise, because they long for true feelings of the Universe. The sly fox toll collectors of doom - perhaps - can arrive a little earlier in every age. - Despite the attractive villas with swimming pools on the beach, lives drowned in futile luxuries easily turn even the self-admirers into amok. Is it that the expectation pretended to be necessary is deliberately thrown out of life in every case?!

Many people do not want the stigma wound carved by Being, but they are forced to bear it out of necessity; the greedy hunters are still out there, sniffing for whistles, gathered in packs. The immeasurable amount of underworldly tow of cynicism covers almost everyone and has even haunted them several times during the day. They smile more and more willingly, more cynically, even when the eternal whys of truly meaningful answers and questions have long ceased.

A digital microchip is embedded in the poles of the skin, when all the previous good-sounding encouragements suddenly weigh on the heart as if they were forced, saying: "Something will happen!" No and Never will succeed!

#poetry #poem #free #verse #lyre #literature #life #social #contemporary

Norbert Tasev 5d

WALKING DESTINIES, DISTRIBUTED POLES

At least on the surface, I pretend to have calmed down completely, nothing can upset me anymore. I accept the winter time system only out of necessity. Because - whether I like it or not - the World still ripens in autumn; my wandering, long-gone memories are simultaneously depleted and filled, finite Time waves within me, like the restless waves of a shipwrecked sea, which are increasingly difficult to console and calm.

The whole may now seem as if one has to look through the magnifying glass of a large worm-like lens into the great, infinite nothingness; it is surely Lack that simultaneously throbs and casts doubt, while a little selfishly waiting for its own downfall. From its split, ample poles emerge ants and maggots, just like in real, profiteering, scheming life, as if the sins that are committed were the same ones who committed them.

Because life should not resemble otherworldly whims and fancies, because the passings are not meant for self-forgetful joys to circulate in them. Perhaps one day the minute-by-minute tide will raise effective counterarguments. Yes, yes! But what will happen after that?! They will carry the only personal urn after the person, sighing, because it is still somewhat cheaper than the coffin. Heaps of petals of anxiety still want to leak out unnoticed through the openable doors; a bag of sadness, nothing more. That could only be left after an endless life!

#poetry #poem #free #verse #lyre #literature #life #social #contemporary

Sherri Woodman 5d

Landslide of Emotions

Sometimes I can't hardly breathe I have a landslide of emotions in me that gives me a bit of anxiety and I struggle with my sensitivity I feel everything so deeply that opens me to vulnerability but I don't believe I am the only one or there wouldn't be any love songs I am an admirer of writing poetry somewhere I can let myself be free pencil and paper allow me to be as open and honest as I want to be While I write it flows out of me without fear of scrutiny The one place I can really let go of so many feelings others don't know

I always have written my poems on paper first in pencil before putting them online, not sure how everyone else does it. I have been writing since 1990 and have always done it this way.

#poetry #open #honest #feelings #free