Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#powder
Have you Not ***** Me Enough Who Made This World I'm Going to Hunt You 2 **** You Ask Adam and Arnold Yall record me Before Touch Screen You Touch Me Everyone Going 2 Hell I will Nuclear Bomb You I'm King Earth You Lied 2 Me You Rob Me Of My Throne You Used My 1000 Trillion Check To Slave Everyone You Based an Economy off My Birth You Let People **** Me You Made Profit When I Go Idgaf **** All You SOON AS I GET HOME BETTER PRAY LIFE HOMELESS TO ICY Felon to King Felon to President Say Your Last Prayer
0
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 9:14 PM UTC
"WHEN I GO" By: Z
In through the nose Straight to the brain That chemical drip I attempt to refrain White of the snow Sparkle of ice Set it before me? Doubt i’d think twice
0
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 3:35 AM UTC
Semi Recovering
Im building a plant 200 billion worth Im building A gun An gun restore Manufactory Not like the ones now Im talking no serial Im buying all New temu Automatics Nationwide This includes Camps Barracks Wharehouse Underground bunkers Underground facilities If we spent 500 billion Thats ok too Im going to arm my civilians ****** gave everyone a gun Me too 2024 Mash em down As fast they respawn They two isles on my nugget The new amazon Ammunition Hurry buy 100 Not rounds 100 pounds 50 cal sounds 2 miles rooftop On the pile Look out Look over Top my city Whats about to go down More guns More ammo Americafied Greatest Nation Alive
0
Feb 23, 2024
Feb 23, 2024 at 9:19 PM UTC
"The New Amazon" By: Z
Take my hand and we’ll jump through the pastel chalk powder. We can be a different creature. Both of us can go and feel at home. Not here. This can be an ode to my friends and my closest family. Because you are always so dear and understanding, especially now that we're here. Finally. Look now all around, it feels full of options but it still makes you nauseous, yes I know. Take my hand and let me show you why I have to go through the pastel powder. Let me be a different creature, I feel sick when I stick around. Both of us can feel at home now when we jump right through the ground. A chalk pavement painting. Let's go right into the pavement painting. Let me take you. Pastel, not too bright but soft and light. Comfortable. This painting is an ode to my dear friends and closest family. Because you're always so dear and some things you understand so well. Come on let me take care of those wounds and soreness with a chalk powder. A soft chalky powder smell. And soft colours for strange creatures. We can be. A different kind of creature when we go through the chalk powder on the pavement. Take my hand, we can be, we can be... Soft. Comfortable. Happy. Smooth. Peaceful. Loving.
0
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 12:44 PM UTC
Soft chalk powder
distant is the faerie light and bar music, quiet is the soft thrumming of your heart against my fingertips — speaking a language of old dreams and poignant powder scent sweet is the viscaria tinted in innocent pink, twirling in the cup of my palm, asking — "would you dance with me?"
0
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 4:04 PM UTC
Viscaria
She is like... A white lily on a surface of powder stone, growing like a golden limestone, standing like a statue of of a beautiful baby doll, she is a light that off  my sight, Having a smile like sunny day, She is a star 🌟 like beautiful Twinkle star, Her red labial as a red rose flower from Longwood garden, her eye's beauty is more than beautiful eye of mantis shrimp, walking more than a Taylor Swift on the ground of fashion parade, She breathes sweetly, talking nicely, and Lovely she is, A beautiful White Amina
0
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC
Amina, a white girl
I drag his lungs into a loose blackness. い い い い They crumple at the margins as I bloat them full of dust. い い い い I wash water on them so that they settle like ink. い い い い His lungs can breathe on my paper, unbroken.
0
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 9:43 PM UTC
Graphite
Lines and lines, druggy times. Bleeding nostrils and racing thoughts. Fast heart beats and feeling distraught. Alert and awake, thoughts are chasing me in a maze. I've lost it, I'm back on the powder. They call me Kat, because my spirit animal is one of a cat like creature, and my drug of choice. Fierce, sneaky, stealthy, and mischievous. Kat is my name, one of many different personalities. Freaky is her demeanor. Wired and full of energy, mind is coming down, muscle spasms are happening. I need to sleep, 2 in the morning and I'm writing forbidden thoughts. Dreams that are nightmares that aren't stopping, I have no hold. Will it ever stop? Control before it becomes an addiction. Hold, or the demons will rain, toxic tears to my waking existence.
0
Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
Kat
Watching the sunrise as it inches up the horizon is like... Waiting for the popcorn to pop Watching your favorite movie with that special ending Remembering your last great kiss and wanting it again Gazing into your fire pit with nothing else on your mind Seeing a close friend for the first time in years Having the greatest news delivered to you Opening your eyes on a hike to see the most amazing, new sights Hitting a hole in one Driving down a long boulevard and not hit one red light The smoothest, glassest water, to water ski on The freshest, dryest, deep, untracked powder to float in ***  The sunrise is all this and more! Start you day with a SUNRISE
0
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC
Sunrise is like....
Rice  gruel did   wet  the potato   crisp. Dried  chili powder was  mixed   with flattened  rice powder  to bring   tears   in  a fancy  dress competitive child's  eyes.
0
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
Potato crisp
She is destructive. Her smoky tail curves and curls around you, Whipping her deadly gases about. She breathes out a swirling rainbow That seems to drown out anything else. Her breath fades into a deep blackness that consumes everything in sight. The tar on her skin drips from her tear ducts and falls upon the ground, sizzling and creating voids On every inch of free space. How ugly she is, And yet she entices you. How long have you been her entrapped prisoner? How long have you been chasing after her? Never love your captor, Never chase the destruction. Never say the fire warms you When I can so clearly see the burns on your skin. Never say the blade is dull When you have blood dripping from your wounds. Never tell me that White Demon has no grip on your forearm, When I will watch you dragged through mud and blackness At the cruelty of her hands, Blindly and unknowing. How long have you lusted for the White Demon?
0
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
The White Demon
You know, I never thought That I would think That I would just love For my Mother To pass me the powder, Just for the sake of killing my Fat numbers.
0
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
Fat Numbers
A mouse is small and a mouse is brown but when one appears big people scream loudly. I wonder if the small, brown mouse knows why there's so much noise. Poor mouse is getting bullied! Chased by giants! Giants are slow, though. Big and loud and slow, you know, and too preoccupied with other things to catch every quick little mouse. I think the mouse will win this one. But I heard they don't like chilli powder.
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Mouse
A flash, a crack, Twirling smoke Sharp smell of powder On the fume, slight choke A flick, a twirl, A clinking sound Empty shells Upon the ground Don't even try I'm locked and loaded
0
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
Gunslinger
Smell it I do, then thought of you Presence comes, in wafts rose powder Sweet dust, pinching, untainted, true Nana's essence, remembrance undo Faith's instinct couldn't seem louder Than rose powder, temperance's you Heightened fragrance, blooming sense No excess, bought at dime store counter Perhaps to ward off onion's offense Her pierogies, life's past tense Empyrean staircase, she, soul mounter Origen in belief, source whence Rose powder thence, spiritual encounter
0
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
Rose Powder (An Olfactory Directory)
Across the bed, she has lain, Not breathing not in vain. My mood is as stoic as her skin's hue. It started early with how the day Cut ***** windows with sunlit rays, Was as southern as a slice of honeydew. She was leaning by the gate, Like Christina Applegate, As willing as a pauper without a clue. I never asked her name, To me, they were all the same. (Somehow, I think this one might stick with me.) There is an absence in her eyes I have loved since her demise. She will stay this way in my memory. I pour the powder on her pale, ****** belly, then toot, inhale. Through my nose, I feed my mind. Sticky dryness of my mouth; It's time to leave the south, Go somewhere no one can find. I can still hear the sound Of the drive by shooting down On the street from around the block. The room is a vestibule To the starlit harlot's tomb. When I'm done, I leave her on the cot. As I move through the door, And leave behind the ***** I muse, briefly, how I stay in the clear. To all the good Catholic boys, May you bang up lots of toys. Have a ****** belly Christmas this year.
0
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
Powder On Pale
I don't have any emotions anymore Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m having a feeling Or I am dreaming, while I am awake? Some might think that my mind is exploring my emotions while looking for happiness, So I decided to bake a melodrama cake Nope! I meant mel-o-cream butter pound cake The ingredient is my path to getting my feelings back Egg, butter, flour, sugar, raisins, baking powder and a little milk I just want to transfer my feeling, with some logical thinking..   Somewhere, deep within a non stanzaic, and syllabic poem forms by the minute It’s going to trend like this cake, which is going to be bake with love Poetry is everywhere, creaming my butter and sugar is poetic because butter and sugar never stick together. It also reminds me of Nana’s golden brown patties, tasty and spicy Adding the eggs, nutmeg, baking powder, brings out the natural female traits in this Island girl, without my empowering dreads The raisins and the baking powder remind me of The Rise of Radical African American Activism, And all that rises, rise in due degree so poetry is everywhere it's  in everything we say and do.
0
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:03 AM UTC
I don't know If I 'm Having A Feeling
You used to be so sociable and so cool, No you just make me sit alone, stare and drool, Paranoid, scared, every noise makes me turn, And all of the while in my nose you just burn, You are there like a shot when I'm weak, Then in a few hours too para to speak, I hate you so much and the things you make me do, **** you ******* yeah you heard, **** YOU! I want you to leave, no more lines in my life, Want to be a good husband and Dad to kids and the wife, You always spoke to the devil inside of me, And stopped me being the best me I can be, Something has changed though and now I can see, A life without ******* no more you and me, No more sitting alone, racking and snorting, Scared of noises, frightened of the phone ring, Goodbye ******* you're devil's dandruff, I hate you ******* enough is enough.
0
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Devil's Dandruff
how much can he take from me... can he steal my heart? can he rip apart every muscle in my brain? drive me corrupt and insane? bend my trust like a worn out key where a lock can't be unlocked like his heart which is unused, unseen? in between lies a thin line of fantasy, and among it floods reality. sometimes, it's almost bearable to keep going, a lot of times actually it's the thought of knowing that I can perhaps pass by my dreams once or twice a showing. although times have changed quite rapidly, and there isn't a thing I can do, I know, I just would like the opportunity of another life time to shown you. I can't foretell the future, but I can hope for the best as I lead you back to her, the girl you first fell for beneath the humid air and baby powder engraved earrings. Olive skin, not a sin on our minds together, just pure laughter and mixed signals coaxed with smiles that eventually ended up thrown into the sorrowful bin of 'whatever'. I can change, I am willing to for the love we once held, but if that means changing every ounce of my into a twisted image of fake mange, then you can take you love and go get rid of the swelled heart you claim to have. (j.a.r.)
0
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
Finding Our Love Again
i changed from liquid to powder, Now that you're gone? powder was to much of a memory Cheers.
0
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Optional
Pain echoed Drained my soul raw Burrow deep inside and crawl Inferno drenched Wretched smell Into the cavern Down the well Covered in vane Temptation is lust ***** little ***** No one trust Misled youth Grown up sour Pass the liquor One more hour White powder line Bills in a roll Down toward the mirror Snort up the nose Damnation has followed My every step Meet my maker I have never met
0
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 12:34 AM UTC
Internal Damnation
Nothing in this world compares to the feeling Of gliding through a Rocky Mountain snowy forest Powder gliding under the skis, silently And feeling like you're, for once, at peace
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
Skiing Means the World to Me