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 us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
It's been a while since I've cried like that.
Gasping for breath.
No thoughts.
Aching head.
Very loud.
Falling asleep.
It's almost calming in an unusual way.
It's been a while since I've cried like that.
Yenson Sep 12
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof

Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....

Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof

Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country

But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list,  highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to “fuck off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a “fucking disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the shit”
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .

Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof

Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa

But why, do call off the dogs. No that fucker has a big Knob, he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a bloody good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's fucking GREEDY, how much can a
fucking man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.

Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr­.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof

Congratula­tions People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless fucking people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you bloody have to work!
Chuka Umunna says Labour has become an institutionally racist organisation as evident from those MPs and members forced out of Labour under Jeremy Corbyn, and he urged the leader to “call off the dogs”.
vic Sep 13
I wonder why I wish to speak to you again
Despite the fact that it felt like you never listened
You never listened.
I complained about it constantly
Wrote sonnets about your lack of focus on me
Hoping you needed hearing aids so I could blame something else
Instead of feeling unimportant
You claim differently though.
Said I built up a wall between us
And now I realize that we weren’t only not on the same page
But we were in completely different libraries
Searching two different encyclopedias
Trying to find a way to define our feelings
I wonder whose anxiety made you feel boxed in
Was it my obsessive need for structured plans that built you in
Or your neglection of problems at hand that made them pile up?
We made better construction partners than lovers
Although that doesn’t mean much
All the bridges we tried to build collapsed into our salty tears
The home we wanted to make sunk into its foundation
We should’ve stuck to classmates.
And I as to move on from another failed relationship
Building roads to a different city that needs to repair its infrastructure
I wonder if you even deserved the sonnets I wrote.
zen Sep 9
There is a rhythm to these fleeting emotions,
they come and flee in harmony,
to and fro
Prose that arose, unfroze from the depths of my toes,
journey on travelers
As the never ending sunset scorched the sky.
The ever-shoring ship circles around aimlesly through the sea.
I gaze through this lighthouse of mine, basking upon the perpetual beauty of the world.
I feel locked away in this tiny lighthouse, yet i have never felt so free in the open sky.

Thats what love is i guess.

A perpetually enigmatic feeling.
You will never lock me away, because a heart in love is always free. You will never set me free, as a heart in love is a prison of its own.
EP Robles Sep 3
MY adventure began no less than upon this chilling night when homes of many lower their shades and kill the light. As sullen souls lay down for bed and fall into their dreams some common sense was telling me I ought to follow;  but my heart stood firm and I – in place of fear!

While conviction (that solid and shiny compass) melted color-pale and heavy fright that night my plan was nothing more than this: to find the house of EROS to cure my heart of alder blight! After Chaos, Gaia, and Tartarus he was born but for I — as I for him this night, my ambition over fear.

EROS, the God of Love and sexuality could show the path for that enduring love of my bride to be … my writ of right! Nothing more to keep me still so I fled into the frozen hills upon a whirlwind. Yes, me the mere mortal like EROS I sped beating glittering golden wings upon my hidden fear.

Heavy a burden of knowing what must be, that fate of me. As my beast passed through the mist and soared in height she bravely carried on across barren wasteland and icy bog as sad and frozen waters gravely sang to me, “CHAOS …” and my eyes were slightly hidden – Monmouth and fear.

And it seemed to me that humanity might have just begun as we moved by wood and sullen hill surging forth in might. Oh! Pity us as EROS must feel the greater that his bride was no less than CHAOS!

Soon I came upon a chasm which has no name but keeps a flame the light of Luna burned – to see the truth of life this night.
The dance of light upon the night stirred a feeling within my soul.
Soothing my beast I released the burden of my weight and there she fled into the night like burning crystal – who eased my fear.

And within the gaping chasm of this slightly twisted gash of soil I faced my future fate by gently carefully moving forward into that dim light.  And into the night like oil each footstep soaked inside my soul; the fear within this slice of time grabbing my throat so fierce and I, like EROS, felt as one with love, less that burning fear.

My mind a fever beating like a raging river I slowly seeped into the porous night like some hungry ravenous creature who only wishes blood and bite.  But soon that moment of decision as I met that ancient door of lore.  And with my hand so cold and gray I took to knock upon the legend no less EROS.  In retrospect I must confess: seconds felt as minutes – minutes like hours, all in fear!

The sane and stable heart might wish to judge the fool I am but the need for love is stronger than the shame of fools or mortal smite.  To those who know the pain and silence of an empty life tonight compels the heart to find one’s lover and to face one’s fear and fright!

:: || ::
Draft.  Legend.  Lore. Archaic.
savvy Aug 24
Sometimes, life gets in the way...

                                                                         ...so, just go with the flow.

But, something that you have to know is that,

                                                       you have to make your own current.

When you don't know what comes next,

                                                                         make your own move and

                                                                                                                take
                                                                                                            the
                                                                                                      next
                                                                                                step
                                                                                          with
                                                                                      a

                                                          leap
                                                      of
                                               faith.
If you are always trying to be normal, ​
you will never know how​

AMAZING​

you can be. ​

~ Maya Angelou
Bryce Aug 19
C'mon out to the rattled caves
the deep-sea malaise
rested in the grey metamorphs
of an ancient coastal chain

Where Sisyphean slips of tectonic rifts
pull the molding clay
like play-dough
and old rock that turns anew
churned into
great catacomb stele
Babylonian towers far away
from the great
Mesopotamic
interstate

Surrounded by the immumerous trees
the military sharpness of their pine
quills writing their mark in the dirt
for a hundred turns or so
only to be rearranged
into the great intercontinental soil
Truly
multisolipsistual

And on the aggregate
held open the mists
of the vast expanse of ocean
beyond L.A
and stole the fruits of the tiny parceled condominium rainwater
from distance far away
angry men shouting--
"Give us back our life blood, GOD DAMN YOU!"

Filling the tanks of their fleshomobiles
running around and sweating it out
trading it for cloth and wiping their brow on
brown shirts
perturbed and disobeyed

But that great man with the chin muscatche
brought the rough riders out of their dome
into the frontier, riding trains
Off they go!
Seeking paradise in the sands
and the trees
and the coastal breeze
dreaming
of a world owned and seen
by the world
by man
and by all these things

It would be grand

But that rock has been seen before
in Luarentian islands long ago
or perhaps a great FUJI-SAN of the west coast
worshiped by critters and dinosaurs
You are late to the game, sweet dreamers, you!
These monuments give to honor due
not you,
no sir did you build these things?
did you mold these things
with the patience of a father
with the consequentiality
of the womb
and a motherly affection
for all things true?
the gift is for you,
remember your father's gifts
sweet princes of the earth
because they will outlive you.





And I walk along the stream
stepping upon these little bits of Yosemite
Pulverized mountain rocks
Renal Stones of the diseased
to which the water flushed out deeply
and cured the grey things from all that left them
displeased
hoping for more than just selfies
and sticking it to god's face
laughing at half-dome
climbing it and getting the better of ourselves
Believing we have achieved bliss

When in reality,
there is nothing to this which we can reach.
foolsparadise Aug 19
how many times,
should we keep on saying it?

"next time,"

I've come to hate,
that word.

it is the only word,
that stops us from seeing each other.

and I'm scared,
that someday our "next time," will be

"never mind,"
when will be that next?
Next page