Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#quickie
Hickey Hickey just the feeling leaves me dizzy it's hard to forget you cause you're there all clingy clinging to my neck red and violet bruises on my chest colored with pleasure and regret nasty stares and glares a constant reminder you're there what started as a quickie has left me with a big fat Hickey
0
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 2:34 PM UTC
Hickey
What you’re taught is what you know. Even in the rot things still can grow. I’ve cursed each name a hundred times while walking on bridges and under power lines. What something is isn’t simply what it means. The embers barely fizz, but the light still beams. I can spot the forest from the trees, and find myself under a starry starry night. I can feel the cool mountain breeze, and still discover something that isn’t quite right. Am I just cursed, to always make things seem worse? If far from the path you find yourself, don’t let it ever get to your mood. Trust your instincts for some help, because it’s not the path that’s moved. What something is isn’t simply what it means. The meaning you could miss, just like the symbols of your dreams. I can determine the sea from the shore, and I can sleep under the full moon. Still I have the gull to ask for more, even if it seems far too soon. Am I just cursed, to bury myself after I’ve bought my own hearse? What something is isn’t simply what it means. Dread could end up bliss, and Hell could be clean. Wet wood does no one any good, doesn’t work as it should; I think I’d rather have gold A potato sack thrown over your back they only cut you some slack because you ate them before they grew mold. I start my life in media res, hand to my ear to block out the noise. I need not live by what another says, I couldn’t even hear them, so I have no choice. Am I just cursed, to live my life in reverse?
0
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 10:44 AM UTC
Moonbow
What you’re taught is what you know. Even in the rot things still can grow. I’ve cursed each name a hundred times while walking on bridges and under power lines. What something is isn’t simply what it means. The embers barely fizz, but the light still beams. I can spot the forest from the trees, and find myself under a starry starry night. I can feel the cool mountain breeze, and still discover something that isn’t quite right. Am I just cursed, to always make things seem worse? If far from the path you find yourself, don’t let it ever get to your mood. Trust your instincts for some help, because it’s not the path that’s moved. What something is isn’t simply what it means. The meaning you could miss, just like the symbols of your dreams. I can determine the sea from the shore, and I can sleep under the full moon. Still I have the gull to ask for more, even if it seems far too soon. Am I just cursed, to bury myself after I’ve bought my own hearse? What something is isn’t simply what it means. Dread could end up bliss, and Hell could be clean. Wet wood does no one any good, doesn’t work as it should; I think I’d rather have gold A potato sack thrown over your back they only cut you some slack because you ate them before they grew mold. I start my life in media res, hand to my ear to block out the noise. I need not live by what another says, I couldn’t even hear them, so I have no choice. Am I just cursed, to live my life in reverse?
Continue reading...
42
i was filled not with happiness but with a deep contempt my heart beats with reason today
0
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 10:32 AM UTC
t o d a y
She opened my mouth And began to throw all of her ***** things inside. The collar of her shirt laced With a smirk. She filled my mouth with soap The seat of her jeans between my teeth. Normally she'd walk away But today She sat on top of me My insides swished around & around Thumping & bumbling around. She closed my mouth and sat on my face. A collection of all her ***** things Coming clean Including I, Without need for a change dispenser
0
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
Soap Suds
i'm not going to be happy and fulfilled, to make you feel better about what you did, your twisted and malicious abuse of my feelings. no i don't want to be your friend, i don't want to pretend that it doesn't hurt, that you looked me in the eyes, and lied, over and over again. it's absolutely ridiculous, that you claim i'm the one that's ridiculous, because i won't give you what you want, i won't comfort your guilt, for the abuse you put me through.
0
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
Thoughts Unsent
what was this supposed to be again? I think I left my keys in the car. the nightbird sings a song the humid air beats down like a while-worn five hundred miles. a roach tapped against the glass. a gasp is stuck in my throat like gross times vomit-up and eye lids shut. the keys are in the car and this poem means nothing.
0
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
number one from the heart.
Twins, they are your kids, Identical they are delightful, Tie them together you do, Sensual feeling for both you & me.
0
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 5:31 AM UTC
Their Special Language
I want to slide my fingers out of my pockets into your lap in between your legs and push your buttons until your eyes roll back into your head and pass out and go to bed
0
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
Quickie
Ask lone questions that were made for a King, one who was born mute, blind and deaf. He'll express the most breathtaking things, only coming from this final breath.
0
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 8:07 PM UTC
Royal Regrets
Right here? Right now? its just you and I and the summer architecture. Shouldn't be feeling this right here, right now just isn't the time. The architecture was flawed to begin with the lions share crafted in low bandwidth. Cant seem to understand right here, right now wasn't fit to abide. Right here? Right now? just me and calloused fingers just uninspired and unoriginal At wits end with consolation prizes.
0
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 7:18 PM UTC
Here and Now
**my words have had little meaning lately rushed and harsh like a quickie in a poorly lit parking lot meaningless and soon forgotten but spoken for a reason like the motives behind that backseat moment wanted and waited for but looking for something much deeper something rooted and real but impatient and unknowing just taking whatever comes first and yes, words and *** are not the same but I want them both in the exact same way**
0
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
thoughts of a starving poet pt. 8
Deeper, darker Tell me why I hold within The southern nights Ablaze upon a crumbling pyre Hopes and dreams that soon will tire That lock within a silent wish Entomb a life beyond all this The fields of bloom mark What has died A heart of color A world denied
0
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
Shroud
Your name I say over and over. I love how its kind shape feels as it rolls over my tongue.
0
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
a new favorite word (20w)
mirror mirror on the wall where are my fortunes, i want it all make me a king that will never fall give me my riches, i need it all vanity is reality, it's a tragedy - that's your call. mirror mirror on the wall
0
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
Untitled
The love I once had you took it away; I invested most of my time into you; Now you're gone, onto a next guy; Using me for quickies; Telling me lies about how you love me; If you loved me, why? Why will always be the question; Forever there will be thoughts; Thoughts of us in the back of my head;
0
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
....Thoughts of us
Crack in the ceiling Expensive repair. Crack in the glass     Duct tape Crack of a switch Stripe the ***** Crack of a gun Someone's done Crack the vein Relieve pain Crack of lightning Frightening Crack the whip Obey Crack my skull My mind mulls Crack the mirror Old wives’ tales dither Crack the door It's her … Crack of her *** Beautiful tail Ends this tight little piece
0
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC
***
I. No more than a confused human being. I feel like I have lost my way. And it's as if I can't retrace my footsteps. I Feel so horrible inside. The past few years, harboring a secret Deep down inside Keeping it locked in a safe. I Can't feel guilty anymore. I've changed, Or, at least, I hoped so. I Am a confused human being Still making my choices. And I hope when this is all said and done I won't be confused Anymore.
0
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
Confused
They're feverish with desire Eclipsed in love Raging like a black smoke fire ****** scents rising above The pheromones they release Must be smelled miles away They've missed this, the tease And liquid glances, it's been days Since, either have touched the other But they still feel that ****** tension On every inch of their skin When they're finally away from prying eyes Their lips mesh, his hands move to her thighs And hers slide up through his hair Gripping on tight They could be spotted, but neither cares He pushes her hard against the wall Bringing her legs around his hips She thanks heaven she wore a skirt And quiets a moan by devouring his lips He quickly, fervently unzips his jeans Releasing himself and promptly Entering her sweet, wet heat He groans as he swallows her scream Then pounds in hard, fast, ferociously She rocks her hips with a delicious little motion Squeezing her core tight, biting his lips Coming almost instantly when he growls with delight He thrusts harder, incessantly feeling her getting tight Moving her ankles to rest on his shoulders He delves his shaft as deep inside as he can reach She scratches scars along his back And they kiss so deep like it's the final feast She throbs in her core as another wave hits at full force Starts going weak as she comes once more Feeling her liquid pour, brings him to the edge He grips her ankles stretching the limits of her flexibility Then roars into her sweet mouth as he comes, vigorously He lets her legs go, but holds her upright They both sigh knowing it's the beginning of the night, And that was just a quickie
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Quickie **** Sunday)
They're feverish with desire Eclipsed in love Raging like a black smoke fire ****** scents rising above The pheromones they release Must be smelled miles away They've missed this, the tease And liquid glances, it's been days Since, either have touched the other But they still feel that ****** tension On every inch of their skin When they're finally away from prying eyes Their lips mesh, his hands move to her thighs And hers slide up through his hair Gripping on tight They could be spotted, but neither cares He pushes her hard against the wall Bringing her legs around his hips She thanks heaven she wore a skirt And quiets a moan by devouring his lips He quickly, fervently unzips his jeans Releasing himself and promptly Entering her sweet, wet heat He groans as he swallows her scream Then pounds in hard, fast, ferociously She rocks her hips with a delicious little motion Squeezing her core tight, biting his lips Coming almost instantly when he growls with delight He thrusts harder, incessantly feeling her getting tight Moving her ankles to rest on his shoulders He delves his shaft as deep inside as he can reach She scratches scars along his back And they kiss so deep like it's the final feast She throbs in her core as another wave hits at full force Starts going weak as she comes once more Feeling her liquid pour, brings him to the edge He grips her ankles stretching the limits of her flexibility Then roars into her sweet mouth as he comes, vigorously He lets her legs go, but holds her upright They both sigh knowing it's the beginning of the night, And that was just a quickie
Continue reading...
41
open mic night stands shivering with star shine and a little coffee house just north of the furthest peak of the Appalachia chain pour your soul out i was there with the skyrockets behind guitars nothing but a raw voice and a standing ovation heart brought the hands together when copper met copper where my lining had been torn off
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
open mic
I am scared But not of the monster under my bed. But not of the undead. But not of the demon in the hallway. But not of the aliens in outer space doing the nae nae. But not of the ghost in the boathouse. But not of the bugs on my blouse. But not of the scars on my wrists. But not of the hurt that, in my heart, exists. But not of the ability to get the flu. But if how much I love you.
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
cowardice