Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#shovel
Playing with rocks, Digging in socks, Playing with spades in the sand. The metal is hot When the fire green fox Steps on and burns up your hand. There’s a hole in your chest. Did you do your best? There’s no one to fill in your grave. Your now lonely friend Will die in the end; The one friend that you couldn’t save Will be found at the end of his cave.
0
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 9:30 AM UTC
Buried Emerald Embers
It’s difficult to look outside of my my- -croscopic lens; it just feels like a job to never have to consider who is an actual person that should matter to me. It’s an almost impossible trick, that only me and most other adults can forget how we felt growing into a new body, how we forget ever knowing We're just like everyone else who also thinks they aren’t like everyone else because they didn’t have someone to hold their heavy lovelorn child-hearts.
0
Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022 at 10:10 PM UTC
Growing Up
all the people i know have stained my brain with their misery and their woe, don't they know? i have them too but i would never shovel them on you it doesn't seem the right thing to do when i could give you all love and give woe the shove i work it out myself though there's still pain on the shelf it's below me, not above i have pain because all i give is love
0
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 2:14 PM UTC
There's Supposed To Be Something Here
—After Sum 41 Through your social distortion of extortion at the most absurd proportions, I realize I need a doctor not a proctor for when I test the helicopter you said you’d never offer to a lowly pauper. You could say it’s my bad I even tried that so now I cry-laugh in the lilacs while my mom throws bombs through satcoms to lighten the weather. I should’ve known better and left the head sever nether that continuously had me tethered to the emotionally unfettered. I really need to find an honest man before I enforce a plan of a 1000th trimester abortion. bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion bortion After all the fat lips you gave me I realized I’m a matchstick baby and don’t need your rabies to save me. I don’t think I want to live in your lair with your despair share stares turning to a bitter taste once I start to face the human waste falling on my head when I fall in your bed instead of my king sized comforter singing trumpeter of a simple time— childhood confined, morality defined by design until I become the demons as you free them for freedom until they’re just another lover to call my brother. The hits to my lips caused a casualty of me casually even though I was never alive actually. Of all the fists fighting me, it’s you I’d like to remove from society.
0
Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 4:25 PM UTC
Fat Lip
It was a miracle you chose me and a blessing I took for granted too often. Maybe I knew I didn't deserve such an angel so I pushed you away in hopes you'd fly to better things. If you find happiness someplace far from me I beg you to stay there. Because with my own shattered pieces I hurt those I love and the more that I care the deeper I cut. Then I awake alone and their blood is on my hands. Trying to remember how I got covered in so much shame colored brownish-red but I fail to understand. When I see you lying lifeless there fighting for one more breath I catch my own and shed a tear for the body dying. You turn your stare away from death to face me instead as your eyes are immediately flooded with fear. It's not til that moment I realize what I have done to the only person who meant more to me than anything or anyone. I swear I just wanted to keep you safe and I thought you were safer away from me but somehow you got too close again without me realizing. Practically under my skin but before I could see I ripped you to shreds unaware of who I was destroying in my haste. But what scraps were left there I immediately recognized though your features were all out of place. Now there is not enough of you to put your parts back together and we both know you cant live half a human forever. I hate myself for digging a grave too busy to notice you return to me in my desperate state. Gripping a ***** shovel I lost my balance tipping us both over and we turn and twist midair. I warned you but too late you learn and now not just myself but both of us are far too gone to save.
0
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
Two Far Gone To Save
It was a miracle you chose me and a blessing I took for granted too often. Maybe I knew I didn't deserve such an angel so I pushed you away in hopes you'd fly to better things. If you find happiness someplace far from me I beg you to stay there. Because with my own shattered pieces I hurt those I love and the more that I care the deeper I cut. Then I awake alone and their blood is on my hands. Trying to remember how I got covered in so much shame colored brownish-red but I fail to understand. When I see you lying lifeless there fighting for one more breath I catch my own and shed a tear for the body dying. You turn your stare away from death to face me instead as your eyes are immediately flooded with fear. It's not til that moment I realize what I have done to the only person who meant more to me than anything or anyone. I swear I just wanted to keep you safe and I thought you were safer away from me but somehow you got too close again without me realizing. Practically under my skin but before I could see I ripped you to shreds unaware of who I was destroying in my haste. But what scraps were left there I immediately recognized though your features were all out of place. Now there is not enough of you to put your parts back together and we both know you cant live half a human forever. I hate myself for digging a grave too busy to notice you return to me in my desperate state. Gripping a ***** shovel I lost my balance tipping us both over and we turn and twist midair. I warned you but too late you learn and now not just myself but both of us are far too gone to save.
Continue reading...
16
Foot meets the metal of a cold shovel with a sun beaming down booted foot pushes the ***** into the soft and rooty ground one mound of dirt sweat forms above the brow two mounds of dirt salty bead slithers down three mounds of dirt tuned into the sounds four mounds of dirt birds chirp all around stopped by a thick root extra force must be used give that shovel a pogo of boots and we are at the fifth mound six and seven are easy as the hole starts to round eight nine ten eleven twelve a tomb has been found carried your sheet covered corpse laid you in the hole cover you with what was uncovered creating a man made knoll Six years of memories laid underneath this red dirt many years missing that time gone subvert
0
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Yorick’s Skull
when i was little , dad handed me a shovel and he handed me a dress. he taught me how to dress myself and then how to garden , to dig each hole in soft            flesh and soil.   ive grown up since, gotten taller, and can hold the shovel by myself , so i dig graves now instead . ive saved one for dad ,                                and ive saved one for me. six feet deep ,                         it’s a bed with no blankets and it’s perfect , and it’s mine — and i want to be buried in a dress i can button                      all                          by myself , because dad also handed me a shotgun.
0
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
mom was buried in a different cemetery so i sleep with a gun in my bed
I was in a trench with all my sorrows When all I needed was a rope When all I needed was a ladder You threw me a shovel
0
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
Dig
VVe vvrite words to fill in the emptiness as if they vvere concrete patches for neglected sidevvalks that nobody vvalks on Carry on D A R K  poets Toss that alphabet tovvards my shovel let me bury it forever
0
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 8:51 PM UTC
Shovel
It's 3am and I am wide awake I have vicious nightmares at times, Not horror movie types, Just ones that I fear the most. Being buried alive is bad--when it is the one you love it is even worse. I hear him scooping the dirt in the shovel, and pouring it on me. "You really fell for it. All I had to do was pretend that I liked you, and you fell right in." He chuckles, as another pile of dirt is added. Im begging him "Please, what do you want? I'll do whatever you want, just let me out! " He chuckles again, "You say that....they always say that... But you know what? You lie, all you women just lie your way into jobs, relationships, and hell, even in marriage! You think I'm going to suddenly believe you out of all of them?! " The casket is slightly sinking from all the dirt that is piled on now. I'm sobbing uncontrollably as I realize my fate. "I'm different, you said it yourself. When I met you, you said--" "Well I lied. I'm getting pretty good at it. Practice makes perfect." I continue to cry, and my one last attempt at freedom-- "I love you. " He stops shoveling, and with a raggedy breath, "...What? " I open my heart for my last plea, "I give my heart fully to anyone that accepts my quirks and even the weird parts about me. In the brief time we knew each other, you laughed at my corny jokes, smiled at me, and even wanted to know about me. So even as I am about to die, Why would I lie with my last words? I might as well say what I truly feel because that is what I do. I fall headfirst in love with someone I barely know, and that is why I always get heart broken no matter what. So what I just said I meant it. " He paused, then he tosses the shovel down beside the hole, and he jumps down into my grave, "Well, I-- My eyes snap open. It's 3am and I'm wide awake.
0
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
Love for a Grave Digger
It's 3am and I am wide awake I have vicious nightmares at times, Not horror movie types, Just ones that I fear the most. Being buried alive is bad--when it is the one you love it is even worse. I hear him scooping the dirt in the shovel, and pouring it on me. "You really fell for it. All I had to do was pretend that I liked you, and you fell right in." He chuckles, as another pile of dirt is added. Im begging him "Please, what do you want? I'll do whatever you want, just let me out! " He chuckles again, "You say that....they always say that... But you know what? You lie, all you women just lie your way into jobs, relationships, and hell, even in marriage! You think I'm going to suddenly believe you out of all of them?! " The casket is slightly sinking from all the dirt that is piled on now. I'm sobbing uncontrollably as I realize my fate. "I'm different, you said it yourself. When I met you, you said--" "Well I lied. I'm getting pretty good at it. Practice makes perfect." I continue to cry, and my one last attempt at freedom-- "I love you. " He stops shoveling, and with a raggedy breath, "...What? " I open my heart for my last plea, "I give my heart fully to anyone that accepts my quirks and even the weird parts about me. In the brief time we knew each other, you laughed at my corny jokes, smiled at me, and even wanted to know about me. So even as I am about to die, Why would I lie with my last words? I might as well say what I truly feel because that is what I do. I fall headfirst in love with someone I barely know, and that is why I always get heart broken no matter what. So what I just said I meant it. " He paused, then he tosses the shovel down beside the hole, and he jumps down into my grave, "Well, I-- My eyes snap open. It's 3am and I'm wide awake.
Continue reading...
26