My mind has been so blank.
But not the type of emptiness you see from a drained pool.  
Almost too many thoughts have destroyed my mind lately.  
I’ve felt lonely with no where to go
No one to talk to.  
Is this what I’m supposed to be learning?
I always see life as a lesson, but this doesn’t make sense.  
Why am I constantly finding broken people.  
I just want to help but they break me in the process.  
Now I’m broken and I don’t even know how to put the pieces back together.  
I feel like I don’t know who I am because everyone has been telling me so..
but is it me that’s lost ?
Or is it everyone around me..
I just don’t know anymore.

He raged,
He bellowed,
He yelled,
I kept quiet.
Once again, he ranted,
Anger he vented,
He berated,
From me not a sound,
My silence was profound,
More eloquent,
Than my response.

Sometimes it pays to be quiet

The Smoking Confessional of an Ageing Hipster:

Bored are we
who childishly
surrender sanity
to shun reality.
In the shade of a tree,
back to bowers
and hours
and not forget
flowers.
And fishing
and wishing
and chopping
and plopping.
When thoughts swirl
an unfolding whirl
of unbegotten
images flow
into the caves
where such thoughts go.
Is it any better that instead
they go here on the page
as I pluck them
from the flow?
As the pages fill with
un-notable observations
on the life of the writer
with low self esteem?
The lost youth of Bridgette
combined with the mental
-------- of a midge.
Won't want to rhyme
and expose the crime
of the whine
about nothing at all.
Leaves in the fall
grass left uncut.
Moss in the well.
Doors are all shut.
Painting a sound
that is truly profound.
Master the monster
and then move on.
To dwell in the entrails
would really be wrong.

Moon softly calls
to a different song.
Our lovely friend Bobby
has known all along.
Something in the earth shifted
as the stock market crashed.
The bank lost our Billions
Thrown RSP's to a tither.
I need a small bench
and maybe a wrench.
I need a nice hunch
and maybe some lunch.
Life is a twitter,
no time to be bitter
Love it or leave it
It won't get much
brilliant er.

Yes Eminem you showed
us Whiteys the way,
But then so did Ginsberg
So let's not be fey.
I pray (do I pray?)
the days away,
play away.
The yawn of the hours
without powers,
the stalemate
of the soul,
when finding our self
was next to Godliness.
The bottom line?
Ignore it and it will
go away.
A moment to say
It's better this way,
than all wrapped in
lines, and lines
that don't rhyme,
and won't take the time
to get it right.
In the light
such a sight,
the light,
a celebration
in the night.
Sweet moonlight bright,
a tonic alright.
This poem is turning into
such a fright.
Most undeniably light-weight
and un-wondrous.

How did Sylvia command
her dark hand?
How did her esteem
intervene?
What would you call
her rhyming scheme?
Is it free?
Is it verse?
Is it drawn by a hearse?
Is it wordy and concise?
Is it a puzzle
to be answered twice?
Is it tricky poetic device?
Who is it for?
Why isn't there more?
Did she burn all the evidence?

Weary now with this pen.
I write it and then,
I write it again.
Over and over
the years coming in.
A whirl and a swirl
contained in my pen.
Gets sloppy, then choppy,
then sinks again
into nosy Neighbor
sighting poet,
in the garden again.
Poet sighted with a pen,
gifted in the ways of when.
A tool for every now and Zen.
In Chinese?
Maybe not worth a Yuan.
I procrastinate,
vegetate,
ruminate, hesitate.
Writing has no redeeming social value?
Is it just a pathological
putting lines on paper?
So I've been told.
But I hold,
I grow cold
with that interpretation.
Limiting myself to the positive,
I absolve to live by
the voice in my head.
In the spirit
of Georgia O'Keeffe.
Amen.
It's all too much,
my brain is weary.
The 'how to'
eludes me.
Enjoying a full retreat.
The quiet seat,
in the sun lit
winter garden.


© 2011 Verlie Burroughs

Quinn Jan 10

I used to love you
but now I don't know
who you are...
-mother

She asks me why I am
shape-shifted from nice
to mean.

Bang bang bang
goes my body against the
side of a bathroom door.

I don't know what you mean, I told her,
I have just lost my love for people.

My friends tell me,
'You must've had a good time
last night" When they see the
back scratches etched up my
spine.

If only they saw my tears
flowing free and wild
like a raging river from a poster
dentists put up in their offices
so little kids can pretend like pulling
teeth doesn't hurt when it happens
next to someplace peaceful.

What made you so mean?

The clang clang
crash of my head
against a wall and his
finger between my teeth
made me mean.

The taste of blood
under the covers
made me mean.

He made me mean.

I miss the subtle simplicity
summer sweet electricity
of my childhood julys.

When I counted the clouds
and made trees into palaces
with my mind.

Found time ties down my
imagination and chips away
at each childhood memory.

Replacing hot happy colors with
blue green and grey, laying
positivity sweetly to its grave
singing a song while sneering
at its body secretly.

That is why I am mean mom,
it is not because of you,

it is from the world, society
kills itself every day
Working ourselves to
death and shaming those
who take their own lives
early.

Pandemics freeze flash
millions of people's lives,
but in countless eyes
third world tragedy simply
doesn't exist.

Hyperconnectivity and
antidepressants define
my generation, what about yours?
And when he finally finished,
he ran out of the stall,
and into a crowded street,
without looking me in the eye.

That is why I am mean.

Sometimes boys hurt boys too
Lizzie Dec 2017

my apologies mean nothing

i told you how i felt, why i didn't do what you wanted
it meant nothing to you

because "no excuses", right?
if you were on this website,
you'd know i was writing about you.

but you don't know about Hello Poetry,
or that i even wrote poetry.

now, i'm left crying, wanting to self harm again
and you think i don't want you in my life.

it seems more like you don't want me in yours.

i'm sorry this is not a poem, i feel lost in my thoughts right now, and i do not wish to indulge the subject to my friends again, i feel like i've ruined their night enough. i needed to rant. apologizes. sorry Zach for not talking to you
Temporal Fugue Dec 2017

Officially, it's bitch day!
trust me, I would know
ranting and raving, often
never late, unto, that show

So toss it out, throw those words
complain, and vent emotions
stir the pot, and release the hounds
giant waves, in calmer oceans

Peeves, diatribes, and wrath
express the anger, and dismay
discharging all the irritation
put it all, upon display

Rage at the machine
call it out, exposing every flaw
building in intensity
pulling your last, and final straw

If you won't, or if, you can't
know this fact my friend
your body, mind, will find a way
bringing fury's, end

I like venting, I doubt I'll die of a heart attack ;D
mythie Dec 2017

Warm bed.
Suffocation.

Lukewarm water.
Drowning.

Dishes upon dishes are stacked.
Tumbling.

Down.
Down.
Down.
Down.

Another day, another relative in the grave.
Salty tears can't turn back time.

I never caressed, I never cared.
But I did care.

Wet pillow.
Drying.

Cry.
Cry.
Cry.
Cry.

Take a watch and turn back time.
Where would you like to go?

Go back to everybody you forgot existed?
Or maybe spend more time with the people you didn't?

Help out your family more often?
Because you never did so before.

Never.
Never.
Never.
Never.

You can't go back, you know that right?
Why are you crying?

They're dead, they all are.
It's over now, forget it.

No matter how many times you say it, it's meaningless.
"Sorry."

clem turner Dec 2017

you've been in bad relationships.
so have i.

but that doesn't give either of us the right
or the convenience
to treat the other one like shit
to push the other one away
to fabricate stories about each other

and blame it on the fact that you didn't want to look weak.

there is a difference
a strong difference
between wanting to protect yourself from an enemy
and forcing the one you love into a box because
just because
you don't want them to become what your last boyfriend may have been.

i understand. i get it.
but i need you to look at me
like a human being
that cares about you
and that has brought myself up from this kind of pain

i need you to know
that when you tell your friends
that i'm one of those people
like "i'm gonna kill myself lololol
where should i cut" and dumb shit like that

it hurts just as much as it did when he did it to you
and i need you to understand
that projecting the past onto me
like some kind of art project
is not a coping mechanism.

there was only so much i could do
so many times i could puff out my chest
or apologize to you.

it's okay to love me too much.
it's okay to be weak.
i loved you.

sorry i just needed to VENT it's been awhile
triztessa Dec 2017

There you go falling asleep on
the mattress I once soaked my sweat in
There you are lying beside her and to her
with nothing but boundless space
in between the two of you

You called her a bitch right in front of me
Did it feel good to realize
You fucked up for once
You called her a bitch like you did with me
Did it feel bad to tell me
You fucked up for once

Then again, I have better things to do
Than listen to your old rants
And somehow get caught up with
You talking about yourself all the time

Then again, I have better things to do
Than get caught up with understanding you
Always the ungrateful friend
Never deserved a chance to be here again

Then again, I have better things to do than listen to
The same old new bullshit
You're the same old

You called her a bitch right in front of me
Did it feel good to realize
You fucked up for once
You called her a bitch like you did with me
And the one before me
Did it feel bad to tell me
You fucked up for once

Then again, I have better things to do
Because you lost me
Then again, I have better things to do
Because you lost me
You lost me

You lost me the second time
You're the same old
Does it feel good
Losing someone twice
Let yourself down again with
The same old new bullshit

Does it feel good that I wrote another song about you?
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