Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#rythm
You're out of sight, out of mind, Your shadow can't haunt me tonight. Under the lights, I'll find my way, Escape the sorrow, drown the pain. I want to dance and sing along, Like in a trance, lost in the song. *** & coke, smoke, disco ball, Bottoms up, next round—let's go. The groove gets me carried away, With every move—rewind, replay. Worries pause, but my heartbeat Syncs itself with every beat. My shirt is soaked, but eyes are dry, It feels so good to be alive. I'm swept away with reckless ease, I've kissed a thousand memories.
0
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 8:11 AM UTC
Escapism
In the flower fields, the breeze blows, Setting the rhythm for a song that glows. Even a flower that forbids company will rest upon the earth. Just one glance from you, Just one word from you, What is a sky without clouds adieu?
0
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 12:20 AM UTC
Come, O Moon.
Raise your head Raise your hand Raise your voice Speak it. Shut your mouth Close your eyes Find your fear Seek it. Claim the place Within yourself Don't feel ashamed Claim it. Take your rage From these past days Take it. Feel it. Scream it!
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 4:33 PM UTC
Mantra-01
A shoe that fits no longer change blowing through the open doors A rhythm that springs from my core: My shoe it fits no more My shoe it fits no more My shoe it fits no more Stripped from expectations guided by a vision A whisper from the void: The empowerment of choice The empowerment of choice The empowerment of choice
0
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:48 PM UTC
The empowerment of choice
Oh. My. God. Where the hell have you been? You were hiding just inside the everyday normality of my story. When I first realized the waves you made on my shore I felt like I must learn how to play the piano just to replicate the pace my heart would get to every time I’m near you. The comfort I get from being around you is like listening to music you never heard but adore the moment it comes on. You are like a song that everyone knows the words to. A modern-day Bohemian Rhapsody, a recapture of American Pie. Not a long long time ago, I will never forget that your music would make me smile. Your words touch me deep inside, there won’t be a day this music dies. I know I don’t have a chevy but the levee’s not dry. I struggle to grasp the concept of composure when the thought of you wakes me up in the morning. I drape my arm over my wishes of you being there. It’s not just love, it’s fantasy. Fantasy like the words lost in the winds between us, making me clutch the lyrics of a song that I want to sing for you. I guess what I want to say is this, you are heard. I swear that the walls inch closer every time you speak just so they can listen to your voice more closely. The melody echoes off every surface, ever enchanting, promising me that if I stay silent I just might hear what beautiful sounds like. Maybe I’ll never learn how to play the piano, I know that the keys to happiness are strung across the seemingly growing distance between possibility and reality. Because the fact of the matter is, I don't know how to play any instruments. But I promise that I will always dance to the music I hope you’ll play for me.
0
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 12:43 AM UTC
The Lyrics To A Song I Never Heard But Always Wanted To
Oh. My. God. Where the hell have you been? You were hiding just inside the everyday normality of my story. When I first realized the waves you made on my shore I felt like I must learn how to play the piano just to replicate the pace my heart would get to every time I’m near you. The comfort I get from being around you is like listening to music you never heard but adore the moment it comes on. You are like a song that everyone knows the words to. A modern-day Bohemian Rhapsody, a recapture of American Pie. Not a long long time ago, I will never forget that your music would make me smile. Your words touch me deep inside, there won’t be a day this music dies. I know I don’t have a chevy but the levee’s not dry. I struggle to grasp the concept of composure when the thought of you wakes me up in the morning. I drape my arm over my wishes of you being there. It’s not just love, it’s fantasy. Fantasy like the words lost in the winds between us, making me clutch the lyrics of a song that I want to sing for you. I guess what I want to say is this, you are heard. I swear that the walls inch closer every time you speak just so they can listen to your voice more closely. The melody echoes off every surface, ever enchanting, promising me that if I stay silent I just might hear what beautiful sounds like. Maybe I’ll never learn how to play the piano, I know that the keys to happiness are strung across the seemingly growing distance between possibility and reality. Because the fact of the matter is, I don't know how to play any instruments. But I promise that I will always dance to the music I hope you’ll play for me.
Continue reading...
7
Technology marches forward, Never stopping, Technology marches forward, Always progressing. It permeates our homes, It resides in our pockets, The big company's own Sherlock Holmes, Seeing deep within our lockets. It gets us where, We want to go, Through the air, Or through the traffic flow. It runs our lives, Leading us along, Like bees in hives, We follow it's rhythmic song. Technology marches forward, Not caring for its creators, Technology marches forward, As humanities technological dictators.
0
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
Technology
What is it with the rain? Always uttering incomplete thoughts. I sit down and listen, but it abruptly ends. What is it with the rain? ending when I need more. I miss the gentle taps, the loud pours, the steady rhythms, so serene. What is it with the rain? Ending with an incomplete thought. Doing an imitation of life, nothing lasts too long.
0
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
What is it with the rain?
she could feel rhythm in air, tune in air, music in her heart, so she threw her fake pride away, put her dancing shoes on, and danced...........
0
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
she danced
there's an aching rhythm to my bones. they cry and they call out; please please, we want to go home. and i don't know how to reply and i don't know what to say other than i know, i know.
0
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
me too
Kiss me in the dark feel the touch of my beating heart up against yours
0
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
Beating In Rythm - Haiku
there’s this constant pain on the left side of my chest monotonous and never ending soft but deadly i feel it when i wake up when i am about to drink my tea when i watch the roses fade when i lay awake at night since you are gone this pain has kept me whole been my friend my lover and my ex never truly leaving but never truly returning the pain is beautiful i suppose because after all it lets me feel something inside this endless void it rythms with my heart paints your soul it is the pain i pay for loving you so
0
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
left side chest ;
That moment When her lips are your favourite lollipop And her skin tastes like ice cream melting in your tongue, The flavour drools godly juice. That moment when the rythm are two beating hearts, The winds outside take over And you take shelter sheltering her.
0
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
After-hours after-beat, after the beats and moans
Take my hand step in time I am sure it'll turn out fine just let the current untwine your mind Every single step takes you closer and closer With every single breath, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Enimes and friends With out the evil intent I guess the stars aligned And all we say are we are all the same, in the end Someone spots you A jesture or smile Its been a while, why not smile back? Some peice of mind might finally come through I think we both need a bit of good Trust me, i know the game we're playing A razor quite thin, the head of a pin But balancing comes as second nature Tomorrow we'll still have our chance to win The lights light faces and faces light Everyone is one tonight Crack a smile its been a while we've got the might Not to mention will to take something and dispite hatred bleeding though manage ourselves a lovely night The colors of the glass Surrounding little suns Stain our hearts bright shades We need to let the pain Wash away The irony is lost on me But thats just the way i like it ignorance is dangerous but i think you should try it Hatred fuels this night But thats alright by me I dont think ive ever felt so completely free Venom drips from every cobble on every corner of every street But i think you can do us both a favor And turn your head as our hearts beat Intermingled with the rythm Love and trust the ones you meet Just for the night Its all alright
0
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 3:26 AM UTC
Parade 1/4
*If only I could find the fluffy comfort of your embrace from my pillow the chill of your touch from the smooth caress of my bed sheets the warmth of your firm ******* from my bed while I rest the solace of your voice from whistling of birds at dawn or the violent murmurs of rivers soaked in pain by storming rain* **If only I could find the saccharine succulence of your lips from honey or rather from flamboyant nectarine  April showers bloomed in June the gold of your smile on the laughing face of the  full moon the fulfilled promise of the joy you lend my soul from money** *If only the sky  were as captivating blue as your hazel eyes and the melody of your inspiration existed in musical beats* **if only the curvature of the horizon was as fluid as your waist the company of loneliness as welcome as that of a succoring guest in the desolate nights clogged by frigid fog of your absence and snow flakes of nostalgia falling from the skies of despair fueled by the perilous weather in your climatic silence** *If only dusk was synonymous to your captivating complexion only then would I say that something else would stir an insurrection but as it stands, no vivisection can match this tantalizing obsession You own all of me, nothing can ever have all this attention and affection...*
0
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 6:23 AM UTC
Tantalizing
Oh it is that time of the year again I have to set the clock's again on my microwave on my alarm clock on my wristwatch It's that time of year again it fills me with dread I become reluctant to leave the bed even if I try to go to sleep early as hard as try to sleep I'm forced to count the sheep The one clock I can not set is the one that is most upset My internal clock does not wind to automatically set to daylight savings time May I make a request, please Just don't mess with people's circadian rhythm
0
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
Daylight Savings Time
Laying underneath the ***** brown tree I pause. I hold on to my beating heart and look at you. Memorising your features from your almond eyes, To the freckles on your cheeks, To the pearly whites of yours.  A smile slowly forms as I feel the heart on my hands beat ferociously. As I see the holes and cracks in it slowly close. As I watch the darkness being overwhelmed by light. I close my eyes just to heighten my senses. To be able to hear your breathing. Slow and steady breaths.  Heart thumping with the rhythm of my own. Talking in morse code. I pull my arms out and open my eyes. I look at the red, muscular object. Beating hard. I sigh and look at you. Almond eyes watery. "This is my heart, it's not much but this is it.  You're probably wondering how I'm able to breathe but as long as my heart beats in rhythm and harmony with yours, I'm alright"
0
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
To Bubbles
Hello, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jocund, The Gardener. Living lucid, a fellow mind traveler. That’s kind of like a chill Childe wanderer Of the flowing forest floor, Feathered cotton or greening words On the wind unravel-er; Gone’a’wandering in untraveled soils, A seed settler. Tragedy left my face sneer metered, Mouth stretched sideways, Toothy as a dumb grinning jester. Yearning to make one stupid gesture, So you’ll see I’m not too interested in being above or lesser. Just on a mission, Learning how to be both student and teacher: Drawing abyssal blueprints, Joining the disillusioned, Describing a dynamic curriculum And coding oaths like Odin’s to bind Cosmic-Woden’s --Mr. Omnipotent to us rodents—undying reticulum. Re-programmed to generate runic music Nomenclature shaped in the underlying resonating That is every particle operating in unison. So I'm riding the chronicled-Euclidean space-time continuum Of balance known to us as equilibrium, And can you feel me breathing? It’s the giving and taking and pushing and pulling of gravity propagating, Bending light under and rending sight of what will be and what has been. Oh well, [Where], (when), {how} I am is what matters most to me. “Jinkies!” “What is it Velma?!” “I think that’s Relativity.” So, speaking relatively I’d rather deduce from what’s relevant to me, Lather rinse and reduce the divine to dust in the winds of time, And maybe see the truth behind {who}, [what], (why) I’m- [{assburgian]}: high functioning and genius, Mumbling, s-st-stutterin', tic tic-ing and tremblin’. it's fuck-chilling and tedious. But wait! There’s more. {(Bipolar}): slightly manic, and comically dramatic. Severely depressed and in a silent panic. Practically sleepless, it’s fairly fantastic. My memory I mean, If all my senses witness a scene The info is sealed within me perfectly, Perceptually and verbally, Non-mutational, stability. In the short term, unfortunately, My focus is overloaded with scenery Of bullies, abusers, and over-users. It’s misery listening to scratched records on repeat, Immune to wrecking. For that I thank my ([ADHD)]: predominately inattentive Wtih dsylixea, definitive alcoholism, drug addiction, and the list goes on. So yeah, I’m on the spectrum, I’m a functional positron. “That guy’s ******** He can’t even act right. He’s emotionless, a mindless robot. There’s no empathy in that golem. That ugly alien’ll never be like you or me, He’s clueless, aloof and downright foolish. So let’s just forget that freak, he kinda scares us.” Oh yeah? Well keep that **** in your ****** Order the facts and double check’em. “We're not so different you, me, and them. We just built a bent border 'round the word disorder. Sure, that’s the preference, to make no inference. Ignorance is bliss, right?” For my defense? Well golly-gee thanks, that’s all lovely and great. But now the neurologically typical person Thinks they can fix me, without knowing my burdens Like, “you’s gots a d’zeez cuz’a factseens” This "cray" **** gets me irate. Diagnoseez wrapped in fear-mongering, seen with hate, And convinced to wait for a miracle. Well too bad so sad, The difference is anatomical. So treating me means training me To be “normal, deviations nominal.” (Am I fuckin’a dog, what the **** Wait, back it up and mix that bit up.) “What the **** am I a ****** dog?! Oh, if they knew the truth they’d think I’m a ******* demigod.” (Ha right, more like a log full buried eternally in'a boggle.) My parents tried and tried for my birth, They almost considered me impossible. I was nearly inconceivable. Then the multi-verse cursed, And that message was receivable, I heard it was a freakin’ miracle. Not that mom cared, she was irresponsible. Wanted to be a free mirth queen. Aww, she just needed security. Even after my birth on Friday 3/13/92 into a noose, Loosely scorned and hardly lyrical. They had to remove me surgically from the womb and Now I've grown oddly into a super human body. I’m physically atypical with an extra lumbar vertebra. Some think me mythical, my hearts cage is even, part of a Hard skeleton wearin’ *** appeal and a Strong fresh sheath of flesh that’s quick to heal. Ask me to speak, out comes a voice so deep you’d think the sky fell. I’m mentally inexplicable, Thinking in infinite Voices simultaneously painting imagery indefinitely.   It has me lagging in a neuronal-conundrum. I’m containing a brain wound up and So over-wired it's redundant. Making my head so heavy the ground is over-tired, Barely overcoming addiction to dilating mundane details. And a bit slow to obtain'em, Those growing verbal-perceptual rains of information. It's why I'm highly aware of the visual-spatial patterned puzzle pieces of existence. So my mind is orbiting off in the distance, Oblivious to non-verbal relation, Just spaced-out communication. I'm nearly incompatible With most people in this global nation. Everyone's got recipes for lemonade, And I've got durian, that's **** ironical. I told you, the difference is anatomical. Can't be changed, so forget being normal tragically! “That’s great and all, But you still can’t communicate, Associate, Or surmount your human viewpoint And recreate. So what’s the point, you’ll never amount And you shouldn't be allowed to procreate, Just **** yourself.” Shut the **** up, mate! No one is beyond help, And I'm in good health. So who says I need your help. I’m a catch-it-all trainer, Long distance sprinter, Heavy weight lifter, Martial arts practitioner, And Muay Thai fighter Of the metaphysical plane or Flyin’ my x-wing, taking out tie fighters. Muckin’ up misinformed storm troopers, Shovin’ **** back down their word poopers. Yeah, I’ve tried playin’ The Game That society designed. But that sick joke Was painfully lame. And the punchline, All but broke me. I died philosophically. Spent three days regenerating. Re-writing my subconscious poetry Like The Doct-uh, The Boo-duh, Or Mist-uh Believe-in-me. Pulverizing words into compost, Composing metaphor to re-code seeds Set to regrow self-trees from the ground up. Splitting myself up into three categories, (Mind), [body], and {me} all clowned up. It is a truly significant allegory, Greening my being with jocundity. Creating profundity for gardening, Generalizing and broadening the concept And applying it metaphorically. In the attempt To join fantasy With reality And become truly One with “we”; Livin' and loven'in Disparity and hilarity Of you, Me, And every fellow There is to see. So, “hello i am the gardener and i am jocund and …|[{(i am)}]|… quite pleased to meet we.”
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Empathy for The Gardener
Hello, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jocund, The Gardener. Living lucid, a fellow mind traveler. That’s kind of like a chill Childe wanderer Of the flowing forest floor, Feathered cotton or greening words On the wind unravel-er; Gone’a’wandering in untraveled soils, A seed settler. Tragedy left my face sneer metered, Mouth stretched sideways, Toothy as a dumb grinning jester. Yearning to make one stupid gesture, So you’ll see I’m not too interested in being above or lesser. Just on a mission, Learning how to be both student and teacher: Drawing abyssal blueprints, Joining the disillusioned, Describing a dynamic curriculum And coding oaths like Odin’s to bind Cosmic-Woden’s --Mr. Omnipotent to us rodents—undying reticulum. Re-programmed to generate runic music Nomenclature shaped in the underlying resonating That is every particle operating in unison. So I'm riding the chronicled-Euclidean space-time continuum Of balance known to us as equilibrium, And can you feel me breathing? It’s the giving and taking and pushing and pulling of gravity propagating, Bending light under and rending sight of what will be and what has been. Oh well, [Where], (when), {how} I am is what matters most to me. “Jinkies!” “What is it Velma?!” “I think that’s Relativity.” So, speaking relatively I’d rather deduce from what’s relevant to me, Lather rinse and reduce the divine to dust in the winds of time, And maybe see the truth behind {who}, [what], (why) I’m- [{assburgian]}: high functioning and genius, Mumbling, s-st-stutterin', tic tic-ing and tremblin’. it's fuck-chilling and tedious. But wait! There’s more. {(Bipolar}): slightly manic, and comically dramatic. Severely depressed and in a silent panic. Practically sleepless, it’s fairly fantastic. My memory I mean, If all my senses witness a scene The info is sealed within me perfectly, Perceptually and verbally, Non-mutational, stability. In the short term, unfortunately, My focus is overloaded with scenery Of bullies, abusers, and over-users. It’s misery listening to scratched records on repeat, Immune to wrecking. For that I thank my ([ADHD)]: predominately inattentive Wtih dsylixea, definitive alcoholism, drug addiction, and the list goes on. So yeah, I’m on the spectrum, I’m a functional positron. “That guy’s ******** He can’t even act right. He’s emotionless, a mindless robot. There’s no empathy in that golem. That ugly alien’ll never be like you or me, He’s clueless, aloof and downright foolish. So let’s just forget that freak, he kinda scares us.” Oh yeah? Well keep that **** in your ****** Order the facts and double check’em. “We're not so different you, me, and them. We just built a bent border 'round the word disorder. Sure, that’s the preference, to make no inference. Ignorance is bliss, right?” For my defense? Well golly-gee thanks, that’s all lovely and great. But now the neurologically typical person Thinks they can fix me, without knowing my burdens Like, “you’s gots a d’zeez cuz’a factseens” This "cray" **** gets me irate. Diagnoseez wrapped in fear-mongering, seen with hate, And convinced to wait for a miracle. Well too bad so sad, The difference is anatomical. So treating me means training me To be “normal, deviations nominal.” (Am I fuckin’a dog, what the **** Wait, back it up and mix that bit up.) “What the **** am I a ****** dog?! Oh, if they knew the truth they’d think I’m a ******* demigod.” (Ha right, more like a log full buried eternally in'a boggle.) My parents tried and tried for my birth, They almost considered me impossible. I was nearly inconceivable. Then the multi-verse cursed, And that message was receivable, I heard it was a freakin’ miracle. Not that mom cared, she was irresponsible. Wanted to be a free mirth queen. Aww, she just needed security. Even after my birth on Friday 3/13/92 into a noose, Loosely scorned and hardly lyrical. They had to remove me surgically from the womb and Now I've grown oddly into a super human body. I’m physically atypical with an extra lumbar vertebra. Some think me mythical, my hearts cage is even, part of a Hard skeleton wearin’ *** appeal and a Strong fresh sheath of flesh that’s quick to heal. Ask me to speak, out comes a voice so deep you’d think the sky fell. I’m mentally inexplicable, Thinking in infinite Voices simultaneously painting imagery indefinitely.   It has me lagging in a neuronal-conundrum. I’m containing a brain wound up and So over-wired it's redundant. Making my head so heavy the ground is over-tired, Barely overcoming addiction to dilating mundane details. And a bit slow to obtain'em, Those growing verbal-perceptual rains of information. It's why I'm highly aware of the visual-spatial patterned puzzle pieces of existence. So my mind is orbiting off in the distance, Oblivious to non-verbal relation, Just spaced-out communication. I'm nearly incompatible With most people in this global nation. Everyone's got recipes for lemonade, And I've got durian, that's **** ironical. I told you, the difference is anatomical. Can't be changed, so forget being normal tragically! “That’s great and all, But you still can’t communicate, Associate, Or surmount your human viewpoint And recreate. So what’s the point, you’ll never amount And you shouldn't be allowed to procreate, Just **** yourself.” Shut the **** up, mate! No one is beyond help, And I'm in good health. So who says I need your help. I’m a catch-it-all trainer, Long distance sprinter, Heavy weight lifter, Martial arts practitioner, And Muay Thai fighter Of the metaphysical plane or Flyin’ my x-wing, taking out tie fighters. Muckin’ up misinformed storm troopers, Shovin’ **** back down their word poopers. Yeah, I’ve tried playin’ The Game That society designed. But that sick joke Was painfully lame. And the punchline, All but broke me. I died philosophically. Spent three days regenerating. Re-writing my subconscious poetry Like The Doct-uh, The Boo-duh, Or Mist-uh Believe-in-me. Pulverizing words into compost, Composing metaphor to re-code seeds Set to regrow self-trees from the ground up. Splitting myself up into three categories, (Mind), [body], and {me} all clowned up. It is a truly significant allegory, Greening my being with jocundity. Creating profundity for gardening, Generalizing and broadening the concept And applying it metaphorically. In the attempt To join fantasy With reality And become truly One with “we”; Livin' and loven'in Disparity and hilarity Of you, Me, And every fellow There is to see. So, “hello i am the gardener and i am jocund and …|[{(i am)}]|… quite pleased to meet we.”
Continue reading...
187
We are the living instruments In our vast universe Our hearts are the beating drums Our breaths the words of verse We are living music With the pitter patter of our feet Our souls are the composers Of an ever changing rythm The universes harmonious beat
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Muse of Life
This love will end as any other... As the day ends when the sun is gone, As summer ends when swallows leave… It will end before I love you for ever.
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
ANY OTHER
and if the sound of the rain drums in sync with your heart then you're the lucky one for most not all can't feel the beat of our own song let alone the d                            r                               i                                  p                                      of the rains one -e.m
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
rain
Musical night chants in summer night a calling in stilled darkness An impending scattered thought soothed by the nightingale Reflection in a cool reverie as the great earth-shadow stretches in abundance The body caressed by moonbeams dances the rhythm, and the rhythm flows upon another; a time to stroke and embrace the eternal night passion Participation of the Venus ritual involving heated flesh, sweet, sweaty smell of pleasure entwined excitement in a ****** chorus of Nirvana And the final falling limp relaxation of the aaah wow...
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
A summer night rythm