Anomaly Jul 13

It's almost as if famous people are being payed to be famous which makes them more famous so they have more money to be more famous .....unless somebody wants to explain differently to little kids that say "I wanna be famous like Kim K" ...why don't cameras follow everyday people .
You might not know what the people in your day to day go through and see .

but you'll know if Kanye and Kim and having another baby

(because we gotta hide the real issues in the world )

Another rant
Zeus Apr 24

I'm their pride and joy, so I can't mess up cause its them it will destroy,

Having your name isn't easy. every time i write it down I remember I already have a standard to live up to but I have no one to look up to
Couldn't you have stayed a little longer !
Couldn't you have talked to me a little more!
Couldn't you have given a heads up about how hard life is!
Couldn't you have died a little later!!
These days all I can do is write to you in vain a letter cause I know you'll never read this,
Being this good isn't easy and 3AM doesn't do me right.

Would you have liked my work
Would you have encouraged it,
my writing gift is all I have but I would trade it to have you here
I've done this so many times
I've written so many rhymes
I'm just trying to get the anger out of my life
I need you in my life
I need a you in my life
I'm the only you in my life and that isn't fair,

Raising daughters that ain't mine, raising sons that aren't mine, building a nation just give it away

Trying to touch hearts I can't even feel my own....

i just need you

Not a poet.
Not a poet.
Not a poet.
And I know it.

I wrote this last year... I think I had some poetic problems.
G Dawn Moreland Jul 2016

Now it's all gone
Those words I was just thinking in my head.

1st step ..think
2nd ..write
Put pen to paper
My brain is fried
I forgot

Bzzzzz, bzzzzzz

Go have your head examined.
I did and now,
No more sounds,  just
Bzzzzz, bzzzzz, bzzzzzz

Teeth clenched, toes curled
Ha, if I didn't know better
Bzzzzz, bzzzzzz
Same look
Orgasmic

That's some kinky kind of love
Strapped down, at least 5 possible
Ankles, wrist, head and
one across the chest, maybe.

No, we need to make sure her heart is free.
In case we defib ri late tor her
She must be drugged.

Stick a needle in her vein
"Relax, sweetie. You won't remember a thing".

Orgasmic,  that warmth from my head to my toes.
Ok,  ready let's go.

Bzzzzz, bzzzzzz

Teeth clenched,  toes bent, look her hands grasping the tool so hard.  
Bzzzzz, bzzzzz, bzzzzzz

"Do you think it's enough".
"Yes, we are done".

Erasing part of me.

I jumped out of that window and ran.
Like Chief
Out of the cuckoo' s nest.

They tried to erase me.
Was I so mad?

Bzzzzz, bzzzzz.

He said I'll hold on to you. I'll go to hell with you and back. I won't let go.
I remember that. That's being loved.


A lunatic's love story.

Only 3 to 4 of the shocking sessions.  They wanted to do 14 more. This is modern treatment for PTSD and depression. 2016

I can't entirely express this feeling.
It's very oblique in itself.
Eloquent and introspective.
It bends me in ways I don't feel comfortable in front of you.

I needed to tell you.
A small gift to the reader.
So we made this series.
The psycho and the emotional.

Do I wait upon the summers eve.
When the light is spread out among the trees.
I can feel my other half encroach.
But that's not the point.

She swore to me fealty and love.
She's gone among the whispers of the wind.
I still hear her through the vine.
But that's not the point.

I have lost the ones I cared about.
I have purged those not worth caring about.
We are one without equal.
But that's not the point.

I am alone. Always have been.
Always will be.
Alone.
But that's not the point.

I am this way for now.
Broken, condemned, alienated
Unique, interesting, alive.
But that's not the point.

The point is to hurt you.
The point is to heal you.
I want you to feel.
My ignorant friend.

This is not a story I wanted to tel.
Never a feeling I wanted to share.
But to get through to you required this.
My heart bore in the words of poetry.

Because I am god in his glory.
I am a freak marking his territory.
No one more murderous as I.
There is no savior who wanted more to die.

End? There is no end. No conclusion for this cursed.
For this blessed
In his mind.
In his heart.
Without love.
Without fear.
Please. Walk with me, I would like to imprint myself on you.
Would you let me walk on your road?
In your life?
Or am I just crumbling.
Together at last.
Bringing me down.
Momentarily at union.

Only for a moment, then disappear into the blackness.
The blackness that so many now inhabit.

Infinity Leander Nov 2015

i.      i have such anger inside me,
it's slowly but surely crept up on me from the day i was born. it's made a home in my bones, cracked open my skull and filled it with the horrors of a broken perception of the world.
ii.      i have such hatred inside me,
once towards myself, twice towards my mother. three times towards what she's turned me into. i am trying so hard not to fall into this abyss of rage, of toxicity, that seems to greet me every time i look into the mirror and see her reflection instead of mine. i've broken the glass twice this week already.
iii.      i wish i could control it.
i wish it had some kind of off-switch, so i wouldn't be forced to walk around with bleeding knuckles all the time. i know violence isn't an answer to any problem, but it sure as hell feels like it when i can only see red and the wall is right there.
iv.      it's always there,
at the back of my mind. in the cigarette smoke swirling around me, burning my eyelids as i try to keep it all in. it's brought me to tears more times than i can count, and i just want it  ---  i need it to stop.
v.      i am afraid one day i won't want it to stop anymore.
i am afraid one day i will let it consume me, change me, shape me into the monsters from my nightmares, from under my bed. i am afraid one day it will steal my voice and make me do things that the real me would never even think of doing. and when that day comes, i will not fear nor grieve anymore. i will just be angry. i will just be violent. i will just be scary.
vi.      i will be a result.
of the hatred and anger and wrath nested deep inside my heart, i will be the darkest, worst version of myself, and i will not care. i will be a result of all the times she's raised a hand to hit me, i will be a result of all the times i have wanted to bash her face in but never could, never did  ---  because i was too innocent. i will be a result, and i will have blood on my hands.

i will be a disgusting creature and i will not deserve to be loved.
Ethan Lima Aug 2015

I have been on 'Hello Poetry' for a while now
And sadly
Some of the most amazing poets
Have no followers
Have no one reading their poems
So they quit writing
And erase their accounts.
And I notice
That the people
Who have many followers
Many readers
Have them simply because
They advertise
They shine light on poems
And they repost them
And brag
And get up in peoples faces,
And in doing this
They keep other peoples poetry from being read.
Two amazing poets quit this week.
One of them only had three followers.
And then you have the people
With hundreds of followers
Who plagiarize
Who quote-mine
Who steal
Rather than celebrating poetry
They get people to shine light on their poetry
And they send messages to different poets
Telling them to read their poetry
If you are one of these people
Then go fuck yourself.
You would rather have a cult following
And constantly talk about yourself
Always changing you bio
Or your profile picture.
And there is nothing wrong
With doing it every once and a while
But you people constantly do it
Just so you can get attention.
And then you've got the people
Who get on here
Create lists
And all that bullshit
Not for the sake of organization
But for attention.
Again,
If you are one of those people
GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!

This isn't a poem, however, I am sick of some of the people on this website and their constant spam and bullshit.
brandon nagley Jul 2015

Took a nap HP
Just woketh up,
Now it's pop-its time
To thrown them on the sidewalk.....
To be a child again.....
Wait?
Am I still five?

It's almost the fourth of July lollll......

This is true.. Pop-its and just woke from nap lol
Infinity Leander Apr 2015

when i told my friend that my new boyfriend loved sports and going out; partying, being loud and obnoxious, she grimaced and said she didn't know why i even liked him. i got angry with her - why did she not trust my gut?

i once told her that opposites attract, so we should be fine. we should have been.

but then came the fighting over little things, then came the mutual devaluation of each other's interests, then came the nights spent on the couch instead of in bed,  his drinking. he would always take the books from my hands and throw them across the wall - bullshit, he called them. he'd always say i lived in my head, that i never gave him the attention he deserved, that he would take a prostitute instead of me any time. and at some point, he had me loathing him more than i did myself.

yet, at the same time, i still loved him. it was like an addiction - i knew he was bad for me, but i clung onto him like he was air and i couldn't breathe. there were nights when i really couldn't.

sometimes it felt like he still loved me, too. when he came to the locked bathroom door and cried with me; apologizing over and over again. at those moments my love for him would crawl out of its cave - my heart - covered in blood, battered, bruised, but still standing. and it would hold him, whispering false truths in his ear. i would always forgive him, because opposites attract. it was just the way he was, he couldn't do anything about it.

even if he could, i frequently thought i didn't want him to. not because i was content with his violent outbrusts and alcoholism, or what he put me through on a daily basis - no. because i loved him, regardless of all the pain he caused me. and love means to accept someone for who they are.

but i came to realize that love is quite finite when all negative things seem infinite.

i hated the way we were so different. where i would sit in one place for hours on end, he'd walk around clumsily, breaking things, screaming, slamming doors.

he drove me mad. and, don't get me wrong, i am not a saint. i'm sure i did the same to him. maybe it's my fault that he turned out the way he did - perhaps if he had chosen to live with someone else, his smiles would still be kind rather than cruel. perhaps if i had changed for him - if i was more like him, we would have been okay. but my silence was deafening. i was convinced he didn't deserve to hear my voice. and he didn't, for days. sometimes he asked if i was pretending to be a ghost of what we used to be. i started questioning my previous way of thinking. do opposites really attract?

and i came to a conclusion. they really do. opposites attract, but they are not always good for each other. i had to learn that the hard way.

and just like a ghost, i faded. i left.

going through a character's head is hard when you have yet to create them.
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