#exits - Hello Poetry

Growing or shrinking last star exit in mind New trend Is life the dead-end? Star casting kiss No exit to miss A friend Finding courage Circles and stars breath condolences Feeling nameless no picket white fences Eyes adored last glances Society- Supreme- be Forget me not Garden- of- Eden Wish upon a star hidden? The last digging dandelion yellow ray In the end no more suffering until the day Like poem book* open and end Something stiff glued together her life Paper- Mache Making amends Sales man Taking his last exit he picks desire She's The spitfire Rare- star sire Computing- reliving- dying dreaming Don't settle for scheming The last star exit The last scripture Vivid mixture Mind storing like a cache Rare Robin bird great panache Recherche last meal al -dente Smell the last flower herbal- ritual Petals open up new portal Blue elf Viola sing like Mona Lisa * * * * Autumn red wine star bridge Grenache field of mirage Seeing stars you fell Where's my falling angel Strong words vocal If its the last exit don't disconnect Dots.. and dots.. connect God casting Its written stars for all in our name Starry- end*

0

Jul 26, 2023

Jul 26, 2023 at 11:53 AM UTC

robinHelloRow

The Last Star *Exit

Growing or shrinking last star exit in mind New trend Is life the dead-end? Star casting kiss No exit to miss A friend Finding courage Circles and stars breath condolences Feeling nameless no picket white fences Eyes adored last glances Society- Supreme- be Forget me not Garden- of- Eden Wish upon a star hidden? The last digging dandelion yellow ray In the end no more suffering until the day Like poem book* open and end Something stiff glued together her life Paper- Mache Making amends Sales man Taking his last exit he picks desire She's The spitfire Rare- star sire Computing- reliving- dying dreaming Don't settle for scheming The last star exit The last scripture Vivid mixture Mind storing like a cache Rare Robin bird great panache Recherche last meal al -dente Smell the last flower herbal- ritual Petals open up new portal Blue elf Viola sing like Mona Lisa * * * * Autumn red wine star bridge Grenache field of mirage Seeing stars you fell Where's my falling angel Strong words vocal If its the last exit don't disconnect Dots.. and dots.. connect God casting Its written stars for all in our name Starry- end*

51

Departures and Arrivals. The dust hasn't yet settled on the torn up trail behind me. Particles still linger in my hair, my teeth and in the air around me like they own me. I wonder, even though it seems like I've dearly departed, if it will ever settle and I don't necessarily expect it to because maybe it has to sock it to me so no sweet amnesia can shew away the memories of what it was that got me here to this place of growing respect for all the potholes and all the unpaved roads. Driving in the dark tree monsters slide bye one after the other, their silent dialogue giving me the shivers like so many other things in the world do, cold sweat running down my face as the car rattles and the music stops and there's only the sound of dripping rain. Tears, like rain aren't separate from sweat. They're constanly recycling and bleeding into one another like night bleeds into day. I get that and I even love that because where does hardship go if not to tears? Stuffing grief into the cracks of the bodymind is a recipe for sick. I get that too. People may tell ya to take a pill, have a swig, do anything to bully your discomfort away but you sense and you know that you sense and only you can sense what it is you have to do. So you keep on going because what has drinking the sweet numbing Koolaide ever done for ya anyway? And it's a relief to come out of the comatose to watch the rose-gold sunrise coming up over your landscape as your gears shift on the broken hill of this awakening; laser sharp beams of light gutting the nonsense out of ya, your feet touching down onto solid ground and you feeling shaky but all aglow in your skin and this departure is telling every cell in your body that you have arrived. There will be other departures and other arrivals, other days and other nights but for now, in this moment you have arrived and you don't give a **** about and you're almost grateful for the dust and the particles and the freaky and the the not so freaky fallout hovering over ya like a halo 1/2020

0

Aug 25, 2022

Aug 25, 2022 at 10:00 AM UTC

tara-liz-driscoll

Departures and Arrivals

Departures and Arrivals. The dust hasn't yet settled on the torn up trail behind me. Particles still linger in my hair, my teeth and in the air around me like they own me. I wonder, even though it seems like I've dearly departed, if it will ever settle and I don't necessarily expect it to because maybe it has to sock it to me so no sweet amnesia can shew away the memories of what it was that got me here to this place of growing respect for all the potholes and all the unpaved roads. Driving in the dark tree monsters slide bye one after the other, their silent dialogue giving me the shivers like so many other things in the world do, cold sweat running down my face as the car rattles and the music stops and there's only the sound of dripping rain. Tears, like rain aren't separate from sweat. They're constanly recycling and bleeding into one another like night bleeds into day. I get that and I even love that because where does hardship go if not to tears? Stuffing grief into the cracks of the bodymind is a recipe for sick. I get that too. People may tell ya to take a pill, have a swig, do anything to bully your discomfort away but you sense and you know that you sense and only you can sense what it is you have to do. So you keep on going because what has drinking the sweet numbing Koolaide ever done for ya anyway? And it's a relief to come out of the comatose to watch the rose-gold sunrise coming up over your landscape as your gears shift on the broken hill of this awakening; laser sharp beams of light gutting the nonsense out of ya, your feet touching down onto solid ground and you feeling shaky but all aglow in your skin and this departure is telling every cell in your body that you have arrived. There will be other departures and other arrivals, other days and other nights but for now, in this moment you have arrived and you don't give a **** about and you're almost grateful for the dust and the particles and the freaky and the the not so freaky fallout hovering over ya like a halo 1/2020

38

I've forgotten you the only way I can You no longer have a face Your laugh no longer a sound I hear Songs are skipped instead of played on repeat I can't remember if your eyes were blue maybe green? were they brown Instead you are a name replaced with neutral terms A memory for stories that exist only because you had at one point -em vidar

0

Aug 1, 2022

Aug 1, 2022 at 3:44 AM UTC

em_vidar

I've forgotten

I've forgotten you the only way I can You no longer have a face Your laugh no longer a sound I hear Songs are skipped instead of played on repeat I can't remember if your eyes were blue maybe green? were they brown Instead you are a name replaced with neutral terms A memory for stories that exist only because you had at one point -em vidar

14

A child is somewhere scribbling, not quite knowing what to say, a ****** with a habit of empty words. The smart money’s on failure and I can’t seem to sleep, because the moon is leaking sliver fears. The polar-bear cocktail, paints a chalk barricade, that incoherent scolding's cannot climb. Hope went unnoticed, until it was lost, but sudden silence - came to make me new. The marks of quiet panic - those flickering tattoos, fade - like specters in the sun. In the company of kindness, peace glitters just like glass, and the witch in the mirror slinks away. You’ll find me at the exit, heading for a steady sea, my uninformed perspective’s in my bag. I navigate like driftwood, hoping for a return trip, my plans are coherent in my dreams .

0

Jan 27, 2021

Jan 27, 2021 at 11:54 AM UTC

anaisvionet

the polar bear

A child is somewhere scribbling, not quite knowing what to say, a ****** with a habit of empty words. The smart money’s on failure and I can’t seem to sleep, because the moon is leaking sliver fears. The polar-bear cocktail, paints a chalk barricade, that incoherent scolding's cannot climb. Hope went unnoticed, until it was lost, but sudden silence - came to make me new. The marks of quiet panic - those flickering tattoos, fade - like specters in the sun. In the company of kindness, peace glitters just like glass, and the witch in the mirror slinks away. You’ll find me at the exit, heading for a steady sea, my uninformed perspective’s in my bag. I navigate like driftwood, hoping for a return trip, my plans are coherent in my dreams .

25

there are no exits but the ones we do create this here is just now

0

Sep 1, 2020

Sep 1, 2020 at 1:03 PM UTC

mark-wanless

haiku 20/9/1a

there are no exits but the ones we do create this here is just now

3

The time we ran out of, The water that ran past this riverbank, The opportunity for letting go, The exit left behind... All choices, all roads not taken are forgotten Where did the forgotten things go Is there a way to get to them again? *Could I wish for a rewind? **I want a redo An overdo***

0

Dec 20, 2014

Dec 20, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC

shruti-atri

I want to go back to the very first time...

The time we ran out of, The water that ran past this riverbank, The opportunity for letting go, The exit left behind... All choices, all roads not taken are forgotten Where did the forgotten things go Is there a way to get to them again? *Could I wish for a rewind? **I want a redo An overdo***

10