#tale poems on Hello Poetry

Tyler Lynn Pulliam Aug 2013

Chatting cold conspiracies from across the coffee table.

Pangaea on the rocks - sweet, sober, civil silence.

When did the degradation become so severe?

Time ticks down and friendships fade to acquaintances.

Spine tingling tempo of the pitter-patter rain drop percussion.

Galloping triplets trickling down from the temples of thunder.

Hands of the clock clap in celebration of another hour killed.

Two o’ clock Coca-Cola to crown the king of carbonation *****.

Naming off artists to impress the drunken temptress.

Taunting the room filled with glimmer-eyed, lovestruck libidos.

All the kids are struggling to remember the horoscope they skimmed.

Brains drained to the point of puking in mouths, poisoning the passion.

With whiskey laced erections, this night chants a swansong.

Illegal lane changes and tiptoe key turning roustabouts.

The Hubble eye can’t detect the silent thoughts left hidden.

Dreams within dreams, lost in a cloud of exhaled acceptance.

Tonight, you fizzled, and tonight, you sleep alone.

These are the danger days. Timber!

When I read this, I always lead on that it was written drunk. Some silly fun that I hope you enjoy.

#love #desire #tale #whiskey #destruction #drunken

Braulio Romero Jun 2014

spitting dead

Don’t know what you want of me
Why have you followed me, behind; leaving a trail to get back
But you can’t go home again because I set a trap
Illuminati in the eye
Illuminati what’s the use of your body?
Will you take me to your fairy tale world?

I saw Orion making fun of Hailey’s comet
I can’t compare I saw his eyes melt into the sun
Never will he drift away in space anymore
And one warrior shouts with joy his pride has fallen
The trees don’t sway to my presence
And the air becomes dead

#words #space #fairy #tale #constellation #illuminati

Shin Jun 2014

Fairy Tale

So now the sickening shadows sting
And your kisses are felt in hell.
The bishop sings his shanty
And all the impurities rise.

From the small town comes the Knight
with armor glistening in the sun.
A mighty sword rests at his side,
And a steed of iron he does mount.

Across a valley he meets his bishop
And their quarrell is quelled
By the sickening slice of a thousand
infantile screams cursing the night.

The End.

#fairy #tale #knight #bishop

Jayanta Jun 2014

Tale of an Island

We live in a small place,
In the midst of river,
Encircled by water
People said that
‘It is a largest river island’.

We call it
‘Majuli’!
Land placed
At centre!

There was a time
When,
Our life were self contain
With nature and culture!
But, almighty probably
Do not like it!

Inundation gradually shifted to floods,
Small strike of water on land
Converted strike of wild waves
Land takes away,
Crops started to damage,
People lost their land,
Water on the ground and beneath decline,
Water in well poisoned,
Our tradition cut loose!

The farmer......
The potter......
The craftsman......
The fisherman........
The weaver...........
The...........
All are migrated
To the island with concrete
and mock matter
In search of livelihood!

Those who are here
Like us,
Still waiting
With a hope, that
Almighty will change its mind,
‘Bless us!’
Again we will
Perform ‘Sinha- Jatra’ of
Post-modern era!

On the occasion of World Environment Day. Celebrated on 5th June. This year focal theme is “Small Island and Climate Change”.
‘Majuli’ is island located in the midst of river Brahmaputra in Assam, India. It was a heritage point of nature and culture; hub of Baisnobaite (Sankari) religious and cultural practices with numbers of cultural complexes. The rich nature nurtures the rich heritage of culture and people. But from several decades the island is facing threats of nature and people lost their valuable assets and livelihood. Moreover, ongoing weather and climatic anomalies divested the situation with crop failure, water crisis, and sudden divested floods. Moreover, in larger area ground water is contaminated with arsenic.
There is need of strategic focus approach in the area for climate change adaptation and resilience planning.

‘Sinha –Jatra’- first Assamese Bhauna (theatre).

#poem #world #of #tale #day #environment #island #an #2014 #majuli

SuuVi May 2014

Tale of love

It started off like a fairy tale,
All pink and dazzling;
It went on to be regular,
With all stories told and everything shared;
It grew to a grave silence,
With no words to say;
It ended with grief,
With unfulfilled expectations and loneliness all the way.

#love #tale #grief

Kyle Kulseth May 2014

Dear Old Uncle Daedalus

Our old uncle, Daedalus,
     he'd grin when he spoke to us
His mouth was missing teeth
and so his wisdom flowed out free
He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
He'd tell us he had seen the world
     and this was his decree:

     "Don't fly too high, you little *****.
       You just might live to pay for it.
       The Sun is always hot,
       the ground gets harder every day."

"But, Daedalus," we would complain,
"You are old and we would fain
see the sights you saw before
          we sleep beneath the clay."

And dear old Uncle Daedalus
     he'd laugh and spit and swear at us
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell.
This life is one big ******* maze
with twists and turns and tricks to play.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."

We'd try to listen, try to thank
him for the words, but his breath stank
and, anyway, we thought that he
               had prob'ly **** himself

But dear old Uncle Daedalus
hung Death from lips that spoke to us
and ****** if he weren't right
about the things he always said:
"Inventiveness works, by and by
with daring, you may taunt the sky
                                   like I did
                                  but the fall is long--
my dreams and son are dead."

He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell..."

"Don't fly too high, you little *****.
You just might live to pay for it.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."

Vivian Sin May 2014

Who I am , We are?

The world we live in is a Cruel, vicious place,
where the lowest in society is used as toys to the rich,
implements of torture is no longer used for punishment.
Now, for the pleasure and the merriment.
What good out of the agony and distress gives you satisfaction?
Ask yourself are you human ?
A human,would have beared compassion.
Not like those
But, i understand,
even if i don't,
That times have changed.
This is the modern society. Attitudes changed. People change!
We do what we have to do to adjust with amendments made.
Some say 'life was better back then'.
Was it?
The slavery, the long winter wars, the awful hierarchy.
How is it all better?
Maybe it was. Maybe it was not.
everything fits into place now.
Technology is our distraction from the world around us.
It's for the best'
How would i know?
Life clearly isn't a fairy-tale.
Maybe that is a good thing. Maybe... Not
What is Reality?

I was inspired by an street artist's paintings of what depicted society. Some of us have underestimated life and took what we had for granted. I am not going to tell you crap that people always do. Like, -Be grateful. Cause i don't think i can do anything about the way you think and the way you act. It's up to you. Not me YOU. Maybe the way you think is right. But What i think doesn't matter its you

Daylight 4U2C May 2014

Death, The Reaper

The iron drips from my fingers.
The man gives out a yell.
The child launches, she launches at me.
Sadly her launch had failed.
I chuckled at her, with no pity.
Her frightened face, what a laugh.
The person she’s crying for isn't worth dying for.
After all,
he was a bad man.
It’s funny, so funny, funny the fact.
The fact, she thought if she grabbed my neck then,
maybe, just maybe, maybe I’d die.
I laughed again and finally, I gave out a sigh.
“Poor child,” I said my voice left unchanged.
“You misunderstood. I shouldn't be ashamed.
Your idol has done so many bad things,
now he’ll pay for his sins of adultery,
in a place which this blind man cannot see.
She fell to the ground befalling her tears.
This was the end of her happy years.
What? Did she think it was a fairy tale life?
Reality is sharp, just like a knife.
I laughed at the fact I took his life,
with just one swing of my most dull scythe.

#hell #man #dying #life #death #end #tears #die #sadly #misunderstood #happy #isnt #crying #in #be #funny #of #reality #bad #if #i #had #the #fairy #tale #has #sins #and #her #what #this #his #fingers #pity #you #thought #me #one #*** #think #my #no #blind #was #it #she #he #shes #maybe #its #for #poor #to #left #out #like #now #voice #is #laugh #face #years #person #fell #idol #worth #fact #done #all #so #just #reaper #did #child #at #failed #adultery #see #from #things #with #then #scythe #finally #ground #place #knife #again #neck #gives #many #took #ashamed #gave #your #sharp #said #yell #cannot #sigh #pay #which #id #after #shouldnt #iron #laughed #frightened #launch #swing #drips #launches #chuckled #grabbed #unchanged #befalling

Margaryta May 2014

Numb Orchids

To girls who dream of being fairy princesses: turn your
balconies into paradise greenhouses, and every
night sing each of the Thumbelinas

to sleep. Frost's flowers crowd beneath my fingers, the
young moon peaking in. I dare not invite you again -
your mind exploded into a nebula last time you saw
so many lights. My tiny Thumbelinas have gotten
married, with Thumbelinas of their won. I kiss
their frostbitten flowers awake. I promised. Blue
fingertips have become a norm, a childhood
reminder of a wish for blue blood. It thaws

outside. Wee Thumbelinas weep. The ferns
unfurl. My lullabies make plants awaken, not from the
beauty, but of dying loyalty.

#flowers #winter #fairy #tale #garden #whimsical #thumbelina #balcony