"anways" poems - Hello Poetry

Bailey sat at the kitchen table. stiring her coffee and staring out of a ***** bay window at an old apple tree covered in snow. "i guess that all of the birds have flown south for the winter." she sighed, hugging herself as the cold wind blew through her. "who cares about those disgusting rats with wings anways?" jacob rolled his eyes and guzzled his coffee down, finishing it all with one big gulp. "i do, they're beautiful." bailey argued. "you used to love birds." she continued. "i used to love birds... before you started feeding them all of the bread." jacob complained with a playful smile. "besides i love voltures and falcons." he smiled. "i feed the birds old bread that nobody wants... and of course you do." B ailey shook her head, grinning from ear to ear.

0

Aug 26, 2014

Aug 26, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC

socialcretin

thees something about that house. chapter one.

Bailey sat at the kitchen table. stiring her coffee and staring out of a ***** bay window at an old apple tree covered in snow. "i guess that all of the birds have flown south for the winter." she sighed, hugging herself as the cold wind blew through her. "who cares about those disgusting rats with wings anways?" jacob rolled his eyes and guzzled his coffee down, finishing it all with one big gulp. "i do, they're beautiful." bailey argued. "you used to love birds." she continued. "i used to love birds... before you started feeding them all of the bread." jacob complained with a playful smile. "besides i love voltures and falcons." he smiled. "i feed the birds old bread that nobody wants... and of course you do." B ailey shook her head, grinning from ear to ear.

1

Silence of the night is where it all begins After my cover of being fine is torn to shreds It's pretty easy to look okay once you're used to it But just never believe you ever were Morning filled with I'm fine and thank yous Nights filled with sweet dreams and sleep tight No one ever knew those things were never true Loudest sound of silence When I can hear my blood rushing in my veins Or was it my heart beating even though I wanted it to stop Maybe they were the voices in my mind telling me "Go to sleep and never wake Nobody cares and Someday you're gonna die anyways Make it quick ,make it fast You won't feel a thing Just glide that blade against your wrist You won't feel pain And past is past" It's rather tempting,it really is But id never accept that offer No matter how good the deal is The silence of the night is a good persuader But I'm not a buyer And I have better things to look for anways.

0

Dec 6, 2013

Dec 6, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC

mi-enola

Silence Of The Night

Silence of the night is where it all begins After my cover of being fine is torn to shreds It's pretty easy to look okay once you're used to it But just never believe you ever were Morning filled with I'm fine and thank yous Nights filled with sweet dreams and sleep tight No one ever knew those things were never true Loudest sound of silence When I can hear my blood rushing in my veins Or was it my heart beating even though I wanted it to stop Maybe they were the voices in my mind telling me "Go to sleep and never wake Nobody cares and Someday you're gonna die anyways Make it quick ,make it fast You won't feel a thing Just glide that blade against your wrist You won't feel pain And past is past" It's rather tempting,it really is But id never accept that offer No matter how good the deal is The silence of the night is a good persuader But I'm not a buyer And I have better things to look for anways.

26

"See, here's the thing, I don't think I give a **** Anways, can you pass me the creamer?"

0

Jun 24, 2016

Jun 24, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC

melanie-melon

7:00am 6/20/2016

"See, here's the thing, I don't think I give a **** Anways, can you pass me the creamer?"

3

**** me... what a long title... anways... i'm sitting on my windowsill, thinking: **** knows what... then it starts raining... i mean, its the springtime piss-down moment... akin to an operatic crescendo! i swear the nights were warmer in april... anyway... i'm downing my third bottle of czech beer... outstreching my hand to catch the raindrops... looking at the sky, saying: bruised, like the colour of plums... and i'm catching these raindrops with my outstretched hand... reminding myself regarding what i said... ah... yes... sunny... that's what english humour does to you, you become satirical... or just plain obnoxious... ridicule prone... yeah.... "sunny"; what a load of dangling ******** to muster, akin to the bells of st. paul's, dangling with their ding-dongs like uvulas in the ****** throat of man... where's the choir of tonsils? and third parties, regarding the said "utensil"? it's ******* down, equivalent to an indian monsoon... and all i can come up with it: oh look... it's "sunny". ugh; the english are certainly stoics... with such miserable weather, in spring, who can blame them, not being pessimists. how else do "write" it? oh, **** me, imagine existential books written by the french, "borrowing" the spanish: inverted question mark: ¿ego? no, seriously, how to they speel.... spell it? cheque? checkmate? just checking? right, inverted commas... you need two? so it's not a case of ditto? chequers? qua sirs? checkers? it's still a mystery to me... it's ******* down, and it's late spring... and all i have is the very english "optimism" of a one word answer: sunny! yep... that's how it goes around here... it's raining... but all you end up saying: oh look! it's sunny! god, this is becoming really abysmal; i'm starting to think that, slitting your own throat... isn't really that much of a bad option... it's the only option. then again, the heat oozing from a place like texas or, nevada... i'd be mad enough to cut my testicles off, and start bashing my head with them, from the heat.

0

May 19, 2017

May 19, 2017 at 2:44 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

exagerrated ridicule of english weather in spring

**** me... what a long title... anways... i'm sitting on my windowsill, thinking: **** knows what... then it starts raining... i mean, its the springtime piss-down moment... akin to an operatic crescendo! i swear the nights were warmer in april... anyway... i'm downing my third bottle of czech beer... outstreching my hand to catch the raindrops... looking at the sky, saying: bruised, like the colour of plums... and i'm catching these raindrops with my outstretched hand... reminding myself regarding what i said... ah... yes... sunny... that's what english humour does to you, you become satirical... or just plain obnoxious... ridicule prone... yeah.... "sunny"; what a load of dangling ******** to muster, akin to the bells of st. paul's, dangling with their ding-dongs like uvulas in the ****** throat of man... where's the choir of tonsils? and third parties, regarding the said "utensil"? it's ******* down, equivalent to an indian monsoon... and all i can come up with it: oh look... it's "sunny". ugh; the english are certainly stoics... with such miserable weather, in spring, who can blame them, not being pessimists. how else do "write" it? oh, **** me, imagine existential books written by the french, "borrowing" the spanish: inverted question mark: ¿ego? no, seriously, how to they speel.... spell it? cheque? checkmate? just checking? right, inverted commas... you need two? so it's not a case of ditto? chequers? qua sirs? checkers? it's still a mystery to me... it's ******* down, and it's late spring... and all i have is the very english "optimism" of a one word answer: sunny! yep... that's how it goes around here... it's raining... but all you end up saying: oh look! it's sunny! god, this is becoming really abysmal; i'm starting to think that, slitting your own throat... isn't really that much of a bad option... it's the only option. then again, the heat oozing from a place like texas or, nevada... i'd be mad enough to cut my testicles off, and start bashing my head with them, from the heat.

54

I stand in this inky crucible, Staring down the gemstones of my work, But which of these sparkling stones, Is beautiful enough to be brought to light? I have blue sapphires, The color of lonesome waters, Made of solemn tears. I have clear diamonds, Cut carefully, Each face polished delicately. But are any of these good enough, To be shown to the masses? What if they don't shine as bright, When they are brought to the light? I'm pulling poems, But I'm afraid, I might set the back down anways.

0

Mar 18, 2025

Mar 18, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC

AbbottJHardison

Pulling Poems

I stand in this inky crucible, Staring down the gemstones of my work, But which of these sparkling stones, Is beautiful enough to be brought to light? I have blue sapphires, The color of lonesome waters, Made of solemn tears. I have clear diamonds, Cut carefully, Each face polished delicately. But are any of these good enough, To be shown to the masses? What if they don't shine as bright, When they are brought to the light? I'm pulling poems, But I'm afraid, I might set the back down anways.

17

off for its own business the pipes are still working, this is always a good update, I have my soldiers cap on, or perhaps a fedora, anways, at least at least at least sometimes personal amusement is the best therapy like how I keep my foot just a few inches away from where the spider chose to carry on about his business as if he might decide to pull back on his decision as I do over, and over again....

0

Mar 9, 2015

Mar 9, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC

Seanzy

the spider vanishes

off for its own business the pipes are still working, this is always a good update, I have my soldiers cap on, or perhaps a fedora, anways, at least at least at least sometimes personal amusement is the best therapy like how I keep my foot just a few inches away from where the spider chose to carry on about his business as if he might decide to pull back on his decision as I do over, and over again....

9