#x poems on Hello Poetry

Àŧùl Sep 18

I was born in 1990,
Only 8 days shy of 1991.

Still, I am Generation Y.

She was born in 2000,
Nearly 6 weeks into it.

She's Generation Z.

Still, she responded to me,
Actually her mother did.

The matrimonial ad.

My parents had flashed it,
In a timely manner, they hoped,
That I can be married.

So, I went to their home,
I liked her for her youth.
And of course her eyes.

She was truthful and frank too.
She told me what she wanted,
She wanted a mature man.

When I told her that I was an artist,
She loved my poetry,
And commended my creations.

Soon that 'misunderstanding' happened,
And the Miss felt she was standing under,
To equate herself with me, she berated me.

Oh, I do want to marry her still,
Because in her I see a lot of potential,
But she'll have to change her behaviour.

And as she can't change,
Things she will have to realise.
I don't think that she can apologise.

There's a generation gap between us,
And the next generation can't say sorry,
Or just accept their mistake with humility.

My HP Poem #1987
©Atul Kaushal

#generation #gap #x #y #z #gen #apologise #humble

julius Mar 2023

Stardrop

Feeling something
Lonely like a concrete wall
Cold in my bed under the covers
I want to forget
I bet they feel the same
You confuse me with your spiral eyes
I cut myself for money offer you
A portion and all my love
Yet I’m something faltered
Wrong for the right reasons
Wrong for the wrong reasons
Alone and waiting for no one
Unconventional methods
We tell each other how we’d **** ourselves
You’re hitting me through a straw
I’d prefer a bite of something sweet
Everything reminds me of him
All the hims really
Every new him is like the last but with a separate journal entry
Now I’m on a grainy camera trying to make a living or something
My dad calls me a failure to my face
My mother is violent in her silence
I’ll never be anyone else they see in me
I’m a moth drawn to the flame of promise
A flame I burn my skin with
Writing words for you
Not for myself
Because there is nothing here
I spend my days curled up with my own fingers
In the palm of my own hand

#x

Coffee with Cream Apr 2022

X’s and O’s

long stretches of disappointing time
have turned you blind
to your dreams
X

well, in this time i have grown my vision
now i play life’s game
with better timing and precision
O

blind as you are
you’ll trip on your past convictions
flat on your face, full of regret
X

i pray
i don’t become blind
the older i get
O

resume to live by my unwise heart
manoeuvre to where
my unsure mind sees best
O

and this is how i see i’ll win,
where you have lost,
in the cruel game of life
O

(3 O’s in a row. I win!)

or
is my youth
my fall
X

and i’m unawarely
walking down the same blinding path
as you
X

will i see
that i’m blind
life has got me outplayed and i lost?
X

Dreaming is a necessity. Like everything necessity, it’s your responsibility to preserve it from it being stolen, even if the theft is life…

#x #o #games #life #youth #adults

DogKeep Mar 2022

i dont want to do this anymore

nostalgia hits like a train

i want to
                fall
backwards

the future's kind with pain

our love
                falls
                         forever
backwards

#x

joel jokonia Jan 2022

Creation and creator.

On and on, I go, following the flow to wherever it settles me. There I wait for yet another wave to carry me, someplace else, another awaiting adventure destined for the blank pages of my scripts. Gradually, it becomes rather sane to be teleported in-between worlds, and never quite ending stories, tasteless poems, and on good days, hit songs.

Most times, unfortunately, it's the ever-there pain of the past that make it to these pages. And no matter how much I have tried, seemingly all that is meant to be forgotten and buried, finds a way to live on As words on pages. Without hesitation, it's a skewed opinion to take away, the heaviness and beauty of such creations, disregarding an amount of agony carried within.

On better days, we find ways, to paint the happiness, so It could be shared to those in need of comfort and a little bit of love, which is mostly us. Apparently, it only lasts a breath, then away it goes, to be sighted once again. When it's good it's going great, air is fresh and alive. Words dance then, sometimes calmly, step by step as if waltzing to a classic lady in red jam.

#randompoets #art #x #creation #creativitywords

nim Jul 2021

a phase

face after face,
i put an X on your face.
cross out all of you wonders,
one wonder after another.
drown you in the spine fluid;
blend you in with the memories.
do not miss me, for i
was just a little phase.

Blurry.

#phase #x #face

Francie Lynch May 2021

Not X-actly

X-ing
X-ref
Luxury
Generation X
X-ray
Xmas
exam
fax
xenophobia
Xerox
Faux
X Rated
X's and O's
Xian
X is the unknown
Xmit
X-files
Malcom X
3 x 2
X, IX, VIII

But if you've lost something you treasure,
Then X marks the spot.

#letterx #x

Nat Lipstadt Dec 2013

1 x 3: there is not a sexist bone in my body

there is not a sexist bone in my body.
not a one.

there is not a bone
in my body entire,
that it's marrow,
but just tinged,
more singed,
nay, more, more,
burnt and burning
with
****** desire.

****** desire is a concerto
of the
five sense organs:
vision, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.

my body performs Halley's Fifth.
my woman listens carefully.

THE FIFTH
C O N C E R T O
"She had never heard that symphony before, but she knew that it was written by Richard Halley. She recognized the violence and the magnificent intensity. She recognize the style of the theme; it was a clear, complex melody--at a time when no one wrote melody any longer."
- Atlas Shrugged, Part I, Chapter I
_______________________________
Written on the bus home, just now, that being sort of an apology.
________________________________
First of a series of three; look for 2 x 3, and, 3 x 3.

#lipstadt #1 #x #3 #sexist #bone #body