Dream sequences
Made up of random patterns
So many faces
The rhythm of many heartbeats
So many minds
So many thoughts- conscious or sub-conscious
What is their origin?
Only source from within us?
Maybe thoughts are planted
While we are asleep
Played to us like a dream film
Some we remember
Others we forget
Yet, they may be residing somewhere
Where do lost dreams go?
Or, maybe it’s not meant for us
Expunged from our subconscious
Our every move has a meaning
We may not know the origins
For all we know
Or actions are mirrored

Yes you count how many views, likes, re-posts, comments, shares, and additions to collections,
but the date of a user's membership to Hello Poetry is also a factor.

If a user is a new member, it is much easier for his/her poems to trend.
It is a cool thing because trending acts as a form of encouragement.

However if you've been a member for a while, having your poem trend is harder.
Which is a cool thing as well because you already leveled-up and its now a challenge!

If I die tonight,
One scary theory
Is true

If one memory repeats,
For all eternity
I hope it is about you

There is a boy
sitting across the table from me,
whose voice cracks like an old record
when he sings hymns and
kindness rests in the color of his eyes.

He is explaining to me that order
scientifically can’t come out of chaos,
how the big bang never really happened because of
the perfect order our lives are set up to be.

The way the consistent order of the solar system
helped humans create the concept of
days, months, and years.

We climbed a tree whose leaves mimicked the
sunset’s arrangement of colors;
we watched the sun simmer into the horizon,
watching this chaos of color come to an orderly end.

My life shifts from one chaotic moment into another.
I remember sitting next to him on the crowded bus,
sides pressed up against each other.
There in that small act, I found order.

However I worried because I heard on the radio
one hot summer ago that us as individuals
need chaos to grow,
but then my name fell from
his mouth and my mind is now repeating
itself with chaotic worries that I
may never find someone like him again.

Poet says to passerby, "How are you?"
Passerby replies, "Fine"
Poet says to passerby, "What do you do?"
Passerby replies, "I am lord of this area"
                             "Would you like to offer me a cup of tea please?"
Poet says to passerby, "Why are you so proud?"
Passerby replies, "I'm the richest among you all"
                             "Would you like to offer me lunch to share?"
Poet says to passerby, "What's your family background?"
Passerby replies, "I belong to a highly respected family"
                             "Would you like to drop me to my home?"
Poet says to passerby, "Biting back is a curse, what's your opinion?"
Passerby replies, "I don’t like biting back"
                             "but the person who facilitates me is the mean one"
Poet says to passerby, "Are you educated person?"
Passerby replies, "Yes! I am."
                             "But it’s our family tradition to say,
                             "Except us all persons are mean ones"
                             "We don’t like smiling persons"
                             "We don’t care of others"
                             "We appreciate Darwin’s theory"
                             "Man behind the monkey"
                             "But for others."
Poet says to passerby, "Do you know antonyms?"
Passerby replies, "Yes! I know"
                            "We are superior and you are inferior"

This is my theory of emotion.
It ruins you
Extracting bone marrow pain
Rubbing my every inch raw with your calloused and greedy fingers
This should be considered an emergency cause this **** don’t heal the pain
Popping pills of what ifs on an empty stomach
With the full knowledge of the inevitable bile rising into my throat
Acid gnawing holes in my stomach lining and revolting the truth
Spreading through my body like a parasite
Feeding off of my flesh and bone
Your consumption will be the end of me

They will tunnel through your heart
Becoming entangled with your soul.
A thousand miles apart,
The one is weaker than the whole.