#arrival - Hello Poetry

to sail away. to seek. to be followed. to be found. love was always waiting for you to arrive.

0

May 14

May 14, 2026 at 7:36 AM UTC

nivek

a temporary love nest called home

to sail away. to seek. to be followed. to be found. love was always waiting for you to arrive.

6

Before dawn I was already moving, road humming under me like a pulse I couldn’t outrun. Every mile hit quick—sharp, electric— your name beating in my chest faster than the engine. First light cracked open, gold spilling across the dash, and all I could think was you— your breath, your warmth, the gravity pulling me home. The road burned hot, each turn a spark, each mile a jolt that pushed me harder, faster, closer to the place where your presence steadies me. Then—your porch light. A flare in the dark. A vow. The door opening like the world finally letting me breathe. You looked at me and everything dropped— the weight, the distance, the noise. Just your eyes, your nearness, the heat rising between us like a struck match. No words. No pause. Just the fierce pull of being close, the room tightening around us, our breaths catching in the same small space. I reached for you— instinct, gravity, truth— and the moment snapped bright and fast, a rush of everything I’d carried across the miles. No more road. No more waiting. Just the wild, steady certainty of being wanted, being held, being home.

0

May 3

May 3, 2026 at 8:42 PM UTC

photodude

The Road Back to You

Before dawn I was already moving, road humming under me like a pulse I couldn’t outrun. Every mile hit quick—sharp, electric— your name beating in my chest faster than the engine. First light cracked open, gold spilling across the dash, and all I could think was you— your breath, your warmth, the gravity pulling me home. The road burned hot, each turn a spark, each mile a jolt that pushed me harder, faster, closer to the place where your presence steadies me. Then—your porch light. A flare in the dark. A vow. The door opening like the world finally letting me breathe. You looked at me and everything dropped— the weight, the distance, the noise. Just your eyes, your nearness, the heat rising between us like a struck match. No words. No pause. Just the fierce pull of being close, the room tightening around us, our breaths catching in the same small space. I reached for you— instinct, gravity, truth— and the moment snapped bright and fast, a rush of everything I’d carried across the miles. No more road. No more waiting. Just the wild, steady certainty of being wanted, being held, being home.

36

Moonlit Arrival In the velvet hush where night forgets to breathe, moonlight spills its ancient silver ink. Longing pulls me gently through the dark, a quiet ache that begs to think. SilentVerses26 has crossed the threshold, raw and new beneath this silver light. Big feelings rise from wells of shadowed ink, dancing slow between the day and night. Welcome to my fragile, moonlit world — where silence finally learns to speak, and every hidden verse is free to bloom in the soft glow that hearts forever seek.

0

Apr 30

Apr 30, 2026 at 1:51 PM UTC

SilentVerses26

Moonlit Arrival

Moonlit Arrival In the velvet hush where night forgets to breathe, moonlight spills its ancient silver ink. Longing pulls me gently through the dark, a quiet ache that begs to think. SilentVerses26 has crossed the threshold, raw and new beneath this silver light. Big feelings rise from wells of shadowed ink, dancing slow between the day and night. Welcome to my fragile, moonlit world — where silence finally learns to speak, and every hidden verse is free to bloom in the soft glow that hearts forever seek.

13

I am close to you, look at the compass needles: they're spinning around.

0

Mar 25

Mar 25, 2026 at 5:05 AM UTC

Zywa

I am close to you

I am close to you, look at the compass needles: they're spinning around.

3

Then it happened. Another ship had wrecked and its sole traveler came. He was asleep— as John was. Some people took the ropes out. But John didn't. He stared at the newcomer. Wondering. Emily stared at him too. Then, he got up and took the ropes off of his friends' hands. "No. Not again", he said. Slowly, he walked in front of them— slapping each one's face and reciting each one's name. "All of you tied me when I arrived. Now, you won't tie anybody else". He threw the ropes into the sea. While the waves carried them away, he sat on a rock, waiting for the newcomer to wake.

0

Mar 9

Mar 9, 2026 at 3:09 PM UTC

Shattentraumer

Tied and Untied (3)

Then it happened. Another ship had wrecked and its sole traveler came. He was asleep— as John was. Some people took the ropes out. But John didn't. He stared at the newcomer. Wondering. Emily stared at him too. Then, he got up and took the ropes off of his friends' hands. "No. Not again", he said. Slowly, he walked in front of them— slapping each one's face and reciting each one's name. "All of you tied me when I arrived. Now, you won't tie anybody else". He threw the ropes into the sea. While the waves carried them away, he sat on a rock, waiting for the newcomer to wake.

25

All gathered around the fireplace, they tell tales. They talk about legendary animals— fierce beasts— intrepid adventurers— fighters and heroes— then a voice rises, seemingly from nowhere. "Those are all impressive tales— but I've got a better one" It's a sweet voice —at least for one man—, a high-pitched one. "It's been exactly ten years since John arrived. Since you tied him to a tree. Since you slapped his face because he was new, different, an outsider." Now, John's face is red again. "Emily, why would you remind them of that?", he thinks. But nobody laughs. Everyone remains silent. Yet, John feels like he hears their minds. "Why did we?" "Isn't he just... human?" "Isn't he like us?" While they reflect, John looks at Emily. Just one little wink— entire sentences fly in that wink. John is silent, like all of them. Then, he stands up and he goes away.

0

Mar 8

Mar 8, 2026 at 1:53 PM UTC

Shattentraumer

Tied and Untied (2)

All gathered around the fireplace, they tell tales. They talk about legendary animals— fierce beasts— intrepid adventurers— fighters and heroes— then a voice rises, seemingly from nowhere. "Those are all impressive tales— but I've got a better one" It's a sweet voice —at least for one man—, a high-pitched one. "It's been exactly ten years since John arrived. Since you tied him to a tree. Since you slapped his face because he was new, different, an outsider." Now, John's face is red again. "Emily, why would you remind them of that?", he thinks. But nobody laughs. Everyone remains silent. Yet, John feels like he hears their minds. "Why did we?" "Isn't he just... human?" "Isn't he like us?" While they reflect, John looks at Emily. Just one little wink— entire sentences fly in that wink. John is silent, like all of them. Then, he stands up and he goes away.

40

Broken, the planks have fallen. Useless, the sail is plunging. Asleep, the sailor arrives. Comfortable, it is —the sand— It doesn't wake him up or send him back. A desert island is a good place for a new start. But the island is not desert— people have lived there for years, decades— generations. They tie him to a tree, they slap his face awake, until his mouth lets out a shy, almost silent greeting: "Hi, I'm the new child" His face is red, from slaps and embarrassment. He wishes they let him go, he wishes they turn to something else— but they don't. Night falls, they go to sleep. They are tired—he is tied. Below the quiet stars, when he almost had fallen asleep, a girl approaches to help him. "Hi! I'm sorry for what they did", she says. "They just love to be superior to strangers" —her face filled with disappointment— "You know, they are humans— they love to do that. By the way, my name's Emily" When she stops talking, he is not tied anymore. Emily extended her hand— "Mine is John", he says as he takes her hand. "Well, John— this is the warmest welcome you'll get"

0

Mar 6

Mar 6, 2026 at 2:40 PM UTC

Shattentraumer

Tied and Untied (1)

Broken, the planks have fallen. Useless, the sail is plunging. Asleep, the sailor arrives. Comfortable, it is —the sand— It doesn't wake him up or send him back. A desert island is a good place for a new start. But the island is not desert— people have lived there for years, decades— generations. They tie him to a tree, they slap his face awake, until his mouth lets out a shy, almost silent greeting: "Hi, I'm the new child" His face is red, from slaps and embarrassment. He wishes they let him go, he wishes they turn to something else— but they don't. Night falls, they go to sleep. They are tired—he is tied. Below the quiet stars, when he almost had fallen asleep, a girl approaches to help him. "Hi! I'm sorry for what they did", she says. "They just love to be superior to strangers" —her face filled with disappointment— "You know, they are humans— they love to do that. By the way, my name's Emily" When she stops talking, he is not tied anymore. Emily extended her hand— "Mine is John", he says as he takes her hand. "Well, John— this is the warmest welcome you'll get"

45

Open— a shaft of light braids the hush in waiting rooms, Hands cradle years: weightless, translucent as dust motes adrift. A single voice—tremulous—breaks and gathers in the slow-bloom of dawn's silence. Listen— sunrise stitches longing into possibility, golden across bare floors; Footprints press their pattern in dew on unsheltered earth. What was hidden—tender, folded—unfurls not as destination but as a question: Are you seen— are you wanted, anchored, trembling in the world's turning? Home is what holds in the pause between heartbeats, where shadow becomes root and root becomes hunger for light. The heart answers: every measure risked, every breath taken, so what dwelled unspoken is finally spoken, and beginning is woven with relentless becoming. You are one— heard, belonging, and still—endlessly—arriving.

0

Nov 5, 2025

Nov 5, 2025 at 12:22 PM UTC

Jet_Rose

Open

Open— a shaft of light braids the hush in waiting rooms, Hands cradle years: weightless, translucent as dust motes adrift. A single voice—tremulous—breaks and gathers in the slow-bloom of dawn's silence. Listen— sunrise stitches longing into possibility, golden across bare floors; Footprints press their pattern in dew on unsheltered earth. What was hidden—tender, folded—unfurls not as destination but as a question: Are you seen— are you wanted, anchored, trembling in the world's turning? Home is what holds in the pause between heartbeats, where shadow becomes root and root becomes hunger for light. The heart answers: every measure risked, every breath taken, so what dwelled unspoken is finally spoken, and beginning is woven with relentless becoming. You are one— heard, belonging, and still—endlessly—arriving.

23

Has it? Has it arrived, yet? I hear my name being called from a distance. I've been waiting... Waiting... For the whole time for this... Now, its arrived... It has... But... Still, my legs don't feel the warmth of the ground; It's freezing cold. softness has gone... Not much left of it... I desire, I deserve... I am running away, but... Hesitation has arrived by time... Arrived ...

0

Sep 13, 2025

Sep 13, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC

soul-3

Arrival

Has it? Has it arrived, yet? I hear my name being called from a distance. I've been waiting... Waiting... For the whole time for this... Now, its arrived... It has... But... Still, my legs don't feel the warmth of the ground; It's freezing cold. softness has gone... Not much left of it... I desire, I deserve... I am running away, but... Hesitation has arrived by time... Arrived ...

40

You long to return to a love you’ve never had. A love that sits and wraps its arms around you— Like a weighted blanket in the middle of the night. The kind that seeps into a Sunday, When the sun hits your shared coffee mugs just right. The grocery run where his hand grazes yours, And your heart skips like it’s never been touched that gently before. The kind that leaves echoes. You imagine them at the sink, Brushing their teeth, half-laughing as they talk Their voice, soft, tired, but loving— And you smile too, even though no one’s there. So here you are, chasing echoes— Echoes that your soul remembers but you do not. You can only imagine. And still, You leave the porch light on. Just in case.

0

Apr 10, 2025

Apr 10, 2025 at 1:19 PM UTC

Mirdex221

Porch Light

You long to return to a love you’ve never had. A love that sits and wraps its arms around you— Like a weighted blanket in the middle of the night. The kind that seeps into a Sunday, When the sun hits your shared coffee mugs just right. The grocery run where his hand grazes yours, And your heart skips like it’s never been touched that gently before. The kind that leaves echoes. You imagine them at the sink, Brushing their teeth, half-laughing as they talk Their voice, soft, tired, but loving— And you smile too, even though no one’s there. So here you are, chasing echoes— Echoes that your soul remembers but you do not. You can only imagine. And still, You leave the porch light on. Just in case.

18

Step by step, bit by bit, seen unseen unknowing shape. Concepts in rebuild reconstruct what has fallen. Come on, let in some fresh air. No need to be afraid the same dark chants drift by. Change resonance. There is a chance for a new beginning.

0

Mar 30, 2025

Mar 30, 2025 at 10:52 AM UTC

Agnes-de-Lodz

New World

Step by step, bit by bit, seen unseen unknowing shape. Concepts in rebuild reconstruct what has fallen. Come on, let in some fresh air. No need to be afraid the same dark chants drift by. Change resonance. There is a chance for a new beginning.

13

Oh the day when the sun hid, Darkness rose, dancing in gloom The leaves and flowers, are shed Black roses had begun to bloom. The Sun, high and bright, Was not seen since the day. Dweller of solar light, Prepared sacrifices to pray. But nil response they got, And generations went by. The youngster all forgot, The ball of hope, above & high. The sun was a forgotten tale, None awaited his arrival. Who still desired the scorching gale, Were fanatics, in denial.

0

Feb 23, 2025

Feb 23, 2025 at 11:16 AM UTC

nishan-niraula

Forgotten Myth

Oh the day when the sun hid, Darkness rose, dancing in gloom The leaves and flowers, are shed Black roses had begun to bloom. The Sun, high and bright, Was not seen since the day. Dweller of solar light, Prepared sacrifices to pray. But nil response they got, And generations went by. The youngster all forgot, The ball of hope, above & high. The sun was a forgotten tale, None awaited his arrival. Who still desired the scorching gale, Were fanatics, in denial.

16

weathered planks stretch into the mist, salt-worn and stable. seagulls cry overhead, unseen boats come and go, their ropes wrapping around cleats for a moment of respite, picturesque arrivals and departures almost home, at a pause a place to breathe between waves, to mend sails torn by wind when the fog lifts, they depart. the harbor remains, in the liminal space between land and sea

0

Sep 30, 2024

Sep 30, 2024 at 1:53 PM UTC

spacetexture

anchorage

weathered planks stretch into the mist, salt-worn and stable. seagulls cry overhead, unseen boats come and go, their ropes wrapping around cleats for a moment of respite, picturesque arrivals and departures almost home, at a pause a place to breathe between waves, to mend sails torn by wind when the fog lifts, they depart. the harbor remains, in the liminal space between land and sea

16

let's meet on spring, when everything else of me is alive. but when the season of autumn appears, will you also come and arrive? when everything else of me is wilting, will you also come and arrive?

0

Apr 2, 2021

Apr 2, 2021 at 9:14 AM UTC

tulipsinherpocket

will you?

let's meet on spring, when everything else of me is alive. but when the season of autumn appears, will you also come and arrive? when everything else of me is wilting, will you also come and arrive?

6

REPOST: A new study seems to think alien signals could be emitting from the heart of the Milky Way, attempting to make contact with humankind. The study focuses on the use of data from a groundbreaking mission known as the Breakthrough Listen Investigation for Periodic Spectral Signals (BLIPSS), Earth's system looking out for outworldly life. ~~ Please dear E.T's mine beloved Return now it's time take us the open-minded home. At Last Stand by me and What a wonderful world I miss you love you. ~~~

0

Jun 6, 2023

Jun 6, 2023 at 6:45 PM UTC

mr-and-mrs-andrews

"Breakthrough "

REPOST: A new study seems to think alien signals could be emitting from the heart of the Milky Way, attempting to make contact with humankind. The study focuses on the use of data from a groundbreaking mission known as the Breakthrough Listen Investigation for Periodic Spectral Signals (BLIPSS), Earth's system looking out for outworldly life. ~~ Please dear E.T's mine beloved Return now it's time take us the open-minded home. At Last Stand by me and What a wonderful world I miss you love you. ~~~

22

Inchoate truth, No, you are not yet real, How quiet you are inside, As though I'm seeing but not hearing a family through a window. Oh, my very own inchoate truth, It would not do to love you, It is not yet love that will see your arrival into the world out there.

0

Apr 26, 2022

Apr 26, 2022 at 9:36 AM UTC

debbie-lydon

Nearly

Inchoate truth, No, you are not yet real, How quiet you are inside, As though I'm seeing but not hearing a family through a window. Oh, my very own inchoate truth, It would not do to love you, It is not yet love that will see your arrival into the world out there.

7

I praise her arrival, I wail at her leave – I place my love in the sun, Because I will never grieve. She would never abandon me – But if she leaves me be. Weeing on my knees. I’ll find comfort in the world, Crying with me.

0

Apr 9, 2021

Apr 9, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC

DoctorVens

Arrival

I praise her arrival, I wail at her leave – I place my love in the sun, Because I will never grieve. She would never abandon me – But if she leaves me be. Weeing on my knees. I’ll find comfort in the world, Crying with me.

9

Striding thoughtfully for destination to reach assembling clever steps always being close but not approaching. That is your horizon with no end that is your happiness your path you transcend. The closeness of reaching and touching the bliss proximity of arrival.

0

Sep 20, 2020

Sep 20, 2020 at 5:30 PM UTC

kerli-tulva

Horizon Path

Striding thoughtfully for destination to reach assembling clever steps always being close but not approaching. That is your horizon with no end that is your happiness your path you transcend. The closeness of reaching and touching the bliss proximity of arrival.

12

In this ferris wheel I find my gestation and my birth In this eternal loop I take my last breath on this earth In this complex world I see the rest of my life unfold In this life I live now I visit the others I may have known In this one moment Every story can be told and shown In this fixed space All of time, all the times, times to be revolve

0

Sep 1, 2020

Sep 1, 2020 at 2:02 AM UTC

PrincessRoro

Now

In this ferris wheel I find my gestation and my birth In this eternal loop I take my last breath on this earth In this complex world I see the rest of my life unfold In this life I live now I visit the others I may have known In this one moment Every story can be told and shown In this fixed space All of time, all the times, times to be revolve

12

Life, a brief sojourn, In an unknown airport lobby, Between an arrival and departure.

0

Mar 12, 2020

Mar 12, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC

k-balachandran

Between the arrival and departure.

Life, a brief sojourn, In an unknown airport lobby, Between an arrival and departure.

3

i wrote about civilizations and greed in order to scent creatures scent and greed friends are hidden between the river's sparkling hidden on the river like pearls i don't know if you know what i'm talking about but that's fine my man but that's fine baby we simply have to ask brother we simply have to ask sister if we need answers for our longing they are sitting by the tracks close to the trains they're always there always: i promise you don't be scared baby i promise you: they are always there like moon and sun like a being being overall in our past present and future a wonderful power; in my son's colorful bible it's called "I-AM-THERE" do you understand that? can you grasp it? many african-americans say "you feel me?" in order to express and share something (much love to omar devone little) on my chest there is a tattoo the one you copied in an hour made of shadows scent and greed i wanted that i wanted that you come to me among the shadows beneath the greed above the scent in a moment of "you feel me" our skins were sparkling our souls were glowing as we felt each other more knowingly and more deeply as ever before we were two halves overfilled with the longing of our childhoods so i had to come into you you needed me to be inside of you and we felt each other more deeply as ever before. we arrived: at an old little house by the sea green rusty window shutters it's never cold there like florida close to the waves you know this old little house by the sea it's always warm there not far there is a train station: where we find the brothers and sisters sitting by the tracks we had arrived.

0

Dec 29, 2019

Dec 29, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC

maxneumann

An Arrival Poem

i wrote about civilizations and greed in order to scent creatures scent and greed friends are hidden between the river's sparkling hidden on the river like pearls i don't know if you know what i'm talking about but that's fine my man but that's fine baby we simply have to ask brother we simply have to ask sister if we need answers for our longing they are sitting by the tracks close to the trains they're always there always: i promise you don't be scared baby i promise you: they are always there like moon and sun like a being being overall in our past present and future a wonderful power; in my son's colorful bible it's called "I-AM-THERE" do you understand that? can you grasp it? many african-americans say "you feel me?" in order to express and share something (much love to omar devone little) on my chest there is a tattoo the one you copied in an hour made of shadows scent and greed i wanted that i wanted that you come to me among the shadows beneath the greed above the scent in a moment of "you feel me" our skins were sparkling our souls were glowing as we felt each other more knowingly and more deeply as ever before we were two halves overfilled with the longing of our childhoods so i had to come into you you needed me to be inside of you and we felt each other more deeply as ever before. we arrived: at an old little house by the sea green rusty window shutters it's never cold there like florida close to the waves you know this old little house by the sea it's always warm there not far there is a train station: where we find the brothers and sisters sitting by the tracks we had arrived.

65