#deflated - Hello Poetry

You read my poetry, then turned away, as if the words had nothing to say. Each line was a pulse, it was a part of me, yet you drift on past, too blind to see that my verses ache, hoping to be heard, yet silence lingers, louder than each word. The ink may fade, but my feelings remain, as I laid my heart bare, was it all in vain? ©️Lizzie Bevis

0

Nov 3, 2024

Nov 3, 2024 at 2:48 AM UTC

Lizbev37

Unrecked

You read my poetry, then turned away, as if the words had nothing to say. Each line was a pulse, it was a part of me, yet you drift on past, too blind to see that my verses ache, hoping to be heard, yet silence lingers, louder than each word. The ink may fade, but my feelings remain, as I laid my heart bare, was it all in vain? ©️Lizzie Bevis

17

She advertised everything I wanted Upon purchase it was nothing I needed If only there was more time allotted The warning signs could've been heeded With the foundation now rotted I'm reseated all alone and resented Not fully unexpected, But fully defeated Deflated and almost deleted Then the process gets repeated ©2024

0

Sep 6, 2024

Sep 6, 2024 at 2:58 PM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ Not Unexpected ~•§•~

She advertised everything I wanted Upon purchase it was nothing I needed If only there was more time allotted The warning signs could've been heeded With the foundation now rotted I'm reseated all alone and resented Not fully unexpected, But fully defeated Deflated and almost deleted Then the process gets repeated ©2024

11

Thoughts deflate then wither in silence, Contained in this skull shaped dome Breath taxis the sound like an organic drone But delivers to no one, A voiceless zone They said they'd be here, But no one's shown It isn't new, Still don't know what to do to atone I wouldn't say I'm not lonely, Just not alone Many fractured personalities have left the nest, Off to make a life of their own I try to keep the piece on my own Not a radical idea Though Not something I'd condone It increases the gravity of a situation, One I could have never known But what's another boulder to a shoulder of stone? The devil on the other shoulder is now older and grown Adopting a fatherly tone I got a bone to pick with him, But that'll have to wait till we find home ©2024

0

Apr 14, 2024

Apr 14, 2024 at 8:30 PM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ What's Another Boulder to a Shoulder of Stone ~•§•~

Thoughts deflate then wither in silence, Contained in this skull shaped dome Breath taxis the sound like an organic drone But delivers to no one, A voiceless zone They said they'd be here, But no one's shown It isn't new, Still don't know what to do to atone I wouldn't say I'm not lonely, Just not alone Many fractured personalities have left the nest, Off to make a life of their own I try to keep the piece on my own Not a radical idea Though Not something I'd condone It increases the gravity of a situation, One I could have never known But what's another boulder to a shoulder of stone? The devil on the other shoulder is now older and grown Adopting a fatherly tone I got a bone to pick with him, But that'll have to wait till we find home ©2024

25

Well this has a deflating feeling but a pumped upending. There was a little one, he was always kicked around, but they were the best of times, boot or hand he didn't mind. Scuff marks marking his features, every now and then washed off Mudd crusted between stitches. If he felt a little deflated they'd be positive pumping him up full of air once again. It was him and them for a time, but it moves on. He went out less and less, it was summer and he went out once. Sitting on the windowsill wishing to between the blades of grass. at the end of a foot and a goal post. Not being kicked and thrown around, then it got real, he was put in the shed empty not feeling the air between his stitches anymore. Then he heard voices in the back, don't worry you have friends, Were all a little deflated in here? I think some of us were mislaid. Forgotten by mistake or we like to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach. Now I'm just missing the sunshine. I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty anymore, I was their favorite seaside friend, you see they fixed my bobo. I don't leak anymore, but they didn't fill me up or throw me again. I was put in here for another time, but I only see them when they are looking for lost things, but not me. Meet tennis and his sister, there a right pair, one always going over the net, the other hoping that the other would hit so they could feel the air bouncing between the racket and them. The racket was in here, but never talked just time pulling at his strings, sagging as if a smile hanging upside down. We have been in here a while, don't know how long, we just chat about the fun times before. So they told each other stories wondering what it would have been to be the other. Laughing and joking at the possibility of either hit by a boot or floating so high in the air, as if they'd never hit the ground. Time passed and one day the family all came to the shed, older than before. Oh my gosh, I remember you guys.. Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh he's still got his kitty plaster on... They pumped him up and he went in to the air, he could feel the heat of the sun, and it felt right again. They grabbed me I was a little shrunken, And the boy now a man, oh my gosh.. I thought I lost you, they pumped me up. He did tricks with me, on knee head and foot, wow he's got better as time passed. Then racket came out with tennis and his sister, what shall we do with these, Oh' no they thought are going to end up in the trash. But they saw racket tightened his strings, and then the yellow siblings where smacked against the wall, they smiled at the noise and the feel of Racket upon them again. The sun was beaming and everything felt like before. But then they were put into the car with other objects, a vase slightly chipped, but beautiful anyway. Books, with folded pages, what stories they could tell us, another time anyway. We traveled a while, hearing noises outside, And handed to another, don't worry we'll find them a new home. We were put on shelves, price tags stuck to us, we were left behind pieces that others didn't want to throw away. But finding us a new home, racket and the twins were first to go, at least they weren't separated. A new face taking them home cuddling, holding them tight, a home was found. Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and was smitten. She threw him in the air i could see him smile at the thought of once again being thrown again. Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even realise that I'd even been sold. Rudley awoke to a foot in my face. what the, and I could feel the air between my fibers, I could see children and more of me being kicked around. I was among others as laughter and glee, as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like home again, not the one before but a new one I was inflated and gliding between posts, back of the net, and out again. Home is where ever you feel needed, and never let yourself feel deflated as we are all useful in our own way. I have to go as I have fourteen children chasing after me, and there I go. boot to me and in the air, I fly again.

0

Nov 9, 2020

Nov 9, 2020 at 6:28 AM UTC

poetic-t

Deflated Friends Find A New Home

Well this has a deflating feeling but a pumped upending. There was a little one, he was always kicked around, but they were the best of times, boot or hand he didn't mind. Scuff marks marking his features, every now and then washed off Mudd crusted between stitches. If he felt a little deflated they'd be positive pumping him up full of air once again. It was him and them for a time, but it moves on. He went out less and less, it was summer and he went out once. Sitting on the windowsill wishing to between the blades of grass. at the end of a foot and a goal post. Not being kicked and thrown around, then it got real, he was put in the shed empty not feeling the air between his stitches anymore. Then he heard voices in the back, don't worry you have friends, Were all a little deflated in here? I think some of us were mislaid. Forgotten by mistake or we like to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach. Now I'm just missing the sunshine. I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty anymore, I was their favorite seaside friend, you see they fixed my bobo. I don't leak anymore, but they didn't fill me up or throw me again. I was put in here for another time, but I only see them when they are looking for lost things, but not me. Meet tennis and his sister, there a right pair, one always going over the net, the other hoping that the other would hit so they could feel the air bouncing between the racket and them. The racket was in here, but never talked just time pulling at his strings, sagging as if a smile hanging upside down. We have been in here a while, don't know how long, we just chat about the fun times before. So they told each other stories wondering what it would have been to be the other. Laughing and joking at the possibility of either hit by a boot or floating so high in the air, as if they'd never hit the ground. Time passed and one day the family all came to the shed, older than before. Oh my gosh, I remember you guys.. Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh he's still got his kitty plaster on... They pumped him up and he went in to the air, he could feel the heat of the sun, and it felt right again. They grabbed me I was a little shrunken, And the boy now a man, oh my gosh.. I thought I lost you, they pumped me up. He did tricks with me, on knee head and foot, wow he's got better as time passed. Then racket came out with tennis and his sister, what shall we do with these, Oh' no they thought are going to end up in the trash. But they saw racket tightened his strings, and then the yellow siblings where smacked against the wall, they smiled at the noise and the feel of Racket upon them again. The sun was beaming and everything felt like before. But then they were put into the car with other objects, a vase slightly chipped, but beautiful anyway. Books, with folded pages, what stories they could tell us, another time anyway. We traveled a while, hearing noises outside, And handed to another, don't worry we'll find them a new home. We were put on shelves, price tags stuck to us, we were left behind pieces that others didn't want to throw away. But finding us a new home, racket and the twins were first to go, at least they weren't separated. A new face taking them home cuddling, holding them tight, a home was found. Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and was smitten. She threw him in the air i could see him smile at the thought of once again being thrown again. Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even realise that I'd even been sold. Rudley awoke to a foot in my face. what the, and I could feel the air between my fibers, I could see children and more of me being kicked around. I was among others as laughter and glee, as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like home again, not the one before but a new one I was inflated and gliding between posts, back of the net, and out again. Home is where ever you feel needed, and never let yourself feel deflated as we are all useful in our own way. I have to go as I have fourteen children chasing after me, and there I go. boot to me and in the air, I fly again.

116

Tethered upon my shoulders, loose threads keeping me from being decapitated from mundane consequences. But, What would happen If I'd held my breath letting all the air out. deflated meanings of life, freedom..

0

Apr 10, 2020

Apr 10, 2020 at 6:25 PM UTC

poetic-t

When My Ideas Float To High

Tethered upon my shoulders, loose threads keeping me from being decapitated from mundane consequences. But, What would happen If I'd held my breath letting all the air out. deflated meanings of life, freedom..

11

Salted, flimsy orange rinds, bittered instead of sweetened: these are all I eat nowadays. Crystalline textures coat my insides, my blood pressure’s at an all-time high, and my tensions are shooting through the roof. By god, I’m so naïve, So untouched by anything other than this, it seems unlikely that I would taste such saccharine things, I’d be much more inclined to shrivel up my insides, dehydrate all my limbs and pack them like raw meat in a harsh winter. I feel useless again.

0

Jul 23, 2019

Jul 23, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC

CautiousRain

Nowadays

Salted, flimsy orange rinds, bittered instead of sweetened: these are all I eat nowadays. Crystalline textures coat my insides, my blood pressure’s at an all-time high, and my tensions are shooting through the roof. By god, I’m so naïve, So untouched by anything other than this, it seems unlikely that I would taste such saccharine things, I’d be much more inclined to shrivel up my insides, dehydrate all my limbs and pack them like raw meat in a harsh winter. I feel useless again.

14

Everybody always quotes about laying in bed at night, alone and depressed, but nobody ever states what it feels like to lie in the comfort of your own bed at any hour of the day, with no one to take and give comfort to. You're alone in the sunlight, empty and distressed over the fact that you have no one at all to spend your time with. The day is when you are meant to have fun, and be with people, but when you are explicitly alone then, well, that is when you feel the most deflated and dejected.

0

Feb 20, 2016

Feb 20, 2016 at 4:04 AM UTC

ThoughtsOfAnOutcast

Alone in the day

Everybody always quotes about laying in bed at night, alone and depressed, but nobody ever states what it feels like to lie in the comfort of your own bed at any hour of the day, with no one to take and give comfort to. You're alone in the sunlight, empty and distressed over the fact that you have no one at all to spend your time with. The day is when you are meant to have fun, and be with people, but when you are explicitly alone then, well, that is when you feel the most deflated and dejected.

1

And so the green balloons did grow Inflated, nurtured over time, This tree of air Nitrogen, Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, Argon, Traces of other gases too, Out side was warm Internal temp minus triple degrees, What had been barren branches Now sustained as these Strings matured forth Buds of latex and rubber grew, Liquid air exhaled as the buds nurtured Air expanded with warm the green balloons Grew & Grew Sprung forth in to life what once was Small, now expanded fuelled by the Cold fuel of the tree of white, In the winds they did gesture As if dancing putting on a show Tree, Branch, String, Green balloons flourished there veins Feeding air anew, Blustery winds picked up Strings did snap, green balloons did Float away, drifting upon high Into a sea of blue, But as seasons change, Green balloons became loose Many floated away to places new Those that did not, Deflated, Depleted, Exhausted, Nourishment of air, no longer green ballons Phenomenon's of gases changed And green faded now this tree of air Brought forth new shades of Yellows, Purples, Black, Oranges, So these colours did fall from the tree, Floating not as before, They did descend, slowly to the floor, Biodegradable. they did fade From view, not what they were before, The life cycle of these green balloons The tree of white grows evermore cold, For seasons change and green balloons will Grow again next spring floating in the air once more.

0

Nov 10, 2014

Nov 10, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC

poetic-t

Tree Of Green Balloons

And so the green balloons did grow Inflated, nurtured over time, This tree of air Nitrogen, Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, Argon, Traces of other gases too, Out side was warm Internal temp minus triple degrees, What had been barren branches Now sustained as these Strings matured forth Buds of latex and rubber grew, Liquid air exhaled as the buds nurtured Air expanded with warm the green balloons Grew & Grew Sprung forth in to life what once was Small, now expanded fuelled by the Cold fuel of the tree of white, In the winds they did gesture As if dancing putting on a show Tree, Branch, String, Green balloons flourished there veins Feeding air anew, Blustery winds picked up Strings did snap, green balloons did Float away, drifting upon high Into a sea of blue, But as seasons change, Green balloons became loose Many floated away to places new Those that did not, Deflated, Depleted, Exhausted, Nourishment of air, no longer green ballons Phenomenon's of gases changed And green faded now this tree of air Brought forth new shades of Yellows, Purples, Black, Oranges, So these colours did fall from the tree, Floating not as before, They did descend, slowly to the floor, Biodegradable. they did fade From view, not what they were before, The life cycle of these green balloons The tree of white grows evermore cold, For seasons change and green balloons will Grow again next spring floating in the air once more.

58