Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#goodthings
I am on the edge of a waterfall. I don’t want to do this. To stop this waterfall, I think of all the good things in life. Now the waterfall, got heavier. And I fall deeper into it.
0
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
Cascade
They say all good things come to an end. I believe it. Like, how every time you come to the end of a book, but you don’t want it to end, But you also don’t want to stop reading it. Like how beautiful, warm mornings end in cold, dark nights you’re scared of, But you can’t change the way of nature. The invincible, blazing flames, burning anyone that’s too close, Also eventually turns to dust. Or even the part of a song that, you so want to jam to, comes on just as you’re about to park into the garage, And you have to bring it to an abrupt stop. The fun weekends, which you’ve waited for the whole week, ends in just a blink of the eyes, And you’re still counting the things you didn’t get to do this time too. Even, how you always whine about your ice-cream playing tricks on you, Because every time you eat a spoonful, it vanishes in thin air. Like how your first kiss, young, innocent and pure, made your heart go thump-thump against your chest, That even I could hear. Or your steady breathing on my neck as you lie close to me, and gentle mumbling against my skin, But, you will eventually wake up and it’ll end. Even the sweet morning kisses all over me, that I love so much, have to stop. Like how this ****** beautiful 'us' have to. The you, the me, the us. The quarrels, the promises, the love. But, they say all good things come to end. I believe it. Still. So. we have to, too. Because all ends have new beginnings, and not all beginnings are bad, right? Right? I wish you find your bad, and I mine, so that it wouldn’t end this way. So now, before you say goodbye, I want you to let go. Because sometimes, somethings come to an end, And it’s okay.
0
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
Let Go
They say all good things come to an end. I believe it. Like, how every time you come to the end of a book, but you don’t want it to end, But you also don’t want to stop reading it. Like how beautiful, warm mornings end in cold, dark nights you’re scared of, But you can’t change the way of nature. The invincible, blazing flames, burning anyone that’s too close, Also eventually turns to dust. Or even the part of a song that, you so want to jam to, comes on just as you’re about to park into the garage, And you have to bring it to an abrupt stop. The fun weekends, which you’ve waited for the whole week, ends in just a blink of the eyes, And you’re still counting the things you didn’t get to do this time too. Even, how you always whine about your ice-cream playing tricks on you, Because every time you eat a spoonful, it vanishes in thin air. Like how your first kiss, young, innocent and pure, made your heart go thump-thump against your chest, That even I could hear. Or your steady breathing on my neck as you lie close to me, and gentle mumbling against my skin, But, you will eventually wake up and it’ll end. Even the sweet morning kisses all over me, that I love so much, have to stop. Like how this ****** beautiful 'us' have to. The you, the me, the us. The quarrels, the promises, the love. But, they say all good things come to end. I believe it. Still. So. we have to, too. Because all ends have new beginnings, and not all beginnings are bad, right? Right? I wish you find your bad, and I mine, so that it wouldn’t end this way. So now, before you say goodbye, I want you to let go. Because sometimes, somethings come to an end, And it’s okay.
Continue reading...
31
In the drawer were folded fine batiste slips embroidered with scrolls and posies, edged with handmade lace too good for her to wear. Daily she put on shmattehs fit only to wash the car or the windows, rags that had never been pretty even when new: somewhere such dresses are sold only to women without money to waste on themselves, on pleasure, to women who hate their bodies, to women whose lives close on them. Such dresses come bleached by tears, packed in salt like herring. Yet she put the good things away for the good day that must surely come, when promises would open like tulips their satin cups for her to drink the sweet sacramental wine of fulfillment. The story shone in her as through tinted glass, how the mother gave up and did without and was in the end crowned with what? scallions? crowned queen of the dead place in the heart where old dreams whistle on bone flutes where run-over pets are forgotten, where lost stockings go? In the coffin she was beautiful not because of the undertaker's garish cosmetics but because that face at eighty was still her face at eighteen peering over the drab long dress of poverty, clutching a book. Where did you read your dreams, Mother? Because her expression softened from the pucker of disappointment, the grimace of swallowed rage, she looked a white-haired girl. The anger turned inward, the anger turned inward, where could it go except to make pain? It flowed into me with her milk. Her anger annealed me. I was dipped into the cauldron of boiling rage and rose a warrior and a witch but still vulnerable there where she held me. She could always wound me for she knew the secret places. She could always touch me for she knew the pressure points of pleasure and pain. Our minds were woven together. I gave her presents and she hid them away, wrapped in plastic. Too good, she said, too good. I'm saving them. So after her death I sort them, the ugly things that were sufficient for every day and the pretty things for which no day of hers was ever good enough.
0
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
Marge Piercy's "Putting the good things away"
In the drawer were folded fine batiste slips embroidered with scrolls and posies, edged with handmade lace too good for her to wear. Daily she put on shmattehs fit only to wash the car or the windows, rags that had never been pretty even when new: somewhere such dresses are sold only to women without money to waste on themselves, on pleasure, to women who hate their bodies, to women whose lives close on them. Such dresses come bleached by tears, packed in salt like herring. Yet she put the good things away for the good day that must surely come, when promises would open like tulips their satin cups for her to drink the sweet sacramental wine of fulfillment. The story shone in her as through tinted glass, how the mother gave up and did without and was in the end crowned with what? scallions? crowned queen of the dead place in the heart where old dreams whistle on bone flutes where run-over pets are forgotten, where lost stockings go? In the coffin she was beautiful not because of the undertaker's garish cosmetics but because that face at eighty was still her face at eighteen peering over the drab long dress of poverty, clutching a book. Where did you read your dreams, Mother? Because her expression softened from the pucker of disappointment, the grimace of swallowed rage, she looked a white-haired girl. The anger turned inward, the anger turned inward, where could it go except to make pain? It flowed into me with her milk. Her anger annealed me. I was dipped into the cauldron of boiling rage and rose a warrior and a witch but still vulnerable there where she held me. She could always wound me for she knew the secret places. She could always touch me for she knew the pressure points of pleasure and pain. Our minds were woven together. I gave her presents and she hid them away, wrapped in plastic. Too good, she said, too good. I'm saving them. So after her death I sort them, the ugly things that were sufficient for every day and the pretty things for which no day of hers was ever good enough.
Continue reading...
68
This adulthood is the most uncomfortable place I'm in, it will not come to an end soon like all the good things do.
0
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
not ending soon enough.
Risk your life out for the crowd And you get nothing But more rebels and jealous people And you get trapped Controversies made up from nowhere You still lonely and cry inside When you try to hear from positive sides You get stalled by lots of advices If you respect your people Don't expect anyone bless you
0
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 2:26 AM UTC
The Services, Don't Regret then
I'm too small As small as a dot on the crumpled paper I'm just one of thousands Even invisible in this cruel world Sheltered in a narrow and thin shells Hiding behind the leaves which begin to change color My first house finally I was born as something strange I'm the ugly My body covered with bristle Feebly crawling along a twig Gnaw the leaves around and make holes Run away from the birds Grappling with weaver ants Makes me fell to the ground Until my bristle loss and scattered Only a worm greets They hate me so I could get killed, not all of them accept until I'm stuck in another dimension I'm the lonely hiding caterpillars Imprisoned inside a small obsolete pouch Trying to **** time Struggling in the darkness to reach beauty That's enough of this stopover wade through the rigors of the long wait that handcuff I was reborn being different and they like me Abundant happiness arrives fly indefinitely with both my beautiful wings penetrate malignancy to explore the horizon
0
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
Metemorphose
I don't need doubters in my life I already have every other kind Of negative energy in it Coming at me from all directions Left right and centre At work and in the street Negativity effects us all It is ripe and abundant So, If you don't believe in me Then I won't believe in you I'll shut my eyes and cover my ears "Lalalalalalalalaaalaaa." I can't hear you over all of this potential Here's a ticket to never land Now please kindly **** off If I say I'll do something Best believe I'll do it Hell, I get off on this proving you wrong stuff I can do it all day
0
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
Negativity *****
You truly treasure that which you earn by sweat,blood or tears.. • Great things take time,that's why only those who work while they wait earn them.
0
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
•&•
I have lived pain and my life can tell; I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks to the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on summer humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things
0
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Living in Pain