Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"bys" poems
They call me Ghetto. They call me gunfights and drive-bys, pregnant teens. They call me Poverty, and concrete winter walls splashed with blood-red graffiti. They call me junior-high druggies and gang-banging muchachos. They call me Mexico like it’s a ***** word. They call me Ghetto. But haven’t they seen through the white-washed walls of the “American Dream”? Don’t they know hurt and suffering, imperfections and neglect, as well? So call me Mexico; call me Poverty; call me Ghetto. I am run-down yards filled with laughing brown children, small apartments bursting with the scent of tamales, mingled with joy and the chatter of relatives. I am home-made tortillas at Thanksgiving and wrinkled hands pounding masa at Christmas. I am friendly smiles and shouted jokes followed by roaring laughter. I am the lilting syllables of a beautiful culture. I am comfort. They call me Ghetto and so I am.
0
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
Ghetto
God, what have you done? Leaving me to hang from the rafters of the sky Waving at passer-bys who have expressions like nuns Like the recording of ours hearts on vinyl My mind spins and your voice is the needle Every time you open your mouth the song skipped I thought it was a coincidence Thus, it unfolded before me like a sin There's cracks of lies on your inner thighs A sculpture of perfection weathered because of decision A girl with a cigarette to her lips is a sign of such Underlying problems covered by much; Covered by smoke; And covered by lust... Yet, her lips continue to lock to easiest solution Maybe it be the illusion of fake religion; Praying to the bottle, and praising to a man; and still shes left behind smothered in her hands Her tears drip just like oceans meet the sands Who are you to break every bone in my body? she asks as shes strips away from the cloths of who used to be somebody Now, her mind seems dry Withered and unable to make another lie So, God help her to lift of her hands, wipe of the tears, and find another man
0
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Fake Religion
My worst fear realized Beyond scared & paralyzed the moment I recognized the signs in the fading eyes of a lover as she re-lives the lies & cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise on the moons romanticized dark sides mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's" that don't even bother with fly-bys Somewhere out past where hope dies Where both love and hate are lobotomized then cannibalized even weaponized for passion triggered crimes leaving no one surprised Where the only allies one finds arrive in disguise as the best of times as the worst of times building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes How was I to vocalize a mess of this size when I don't have the ability to visualize even loosing such a prize... ©2024
0
Feb 21, 2024
Feb 21, 2024 at 12:06 AM UTC
~•§•~ I Can't Bare to Look Into Your Eyes at Times ~•§•~
They say It all will be okay-you're beautiful As if those words can draw the line Between bravery and slavery And clear my back of scars Left by the lash of sacrifice. Every choice I have made Has been a step away From love, from freedom, from home. For in this maze of concrete and steel I must be alone, and always composed - There is always someone watching So I keep a steel rod in my spine And walk towards the end of the city Pretending I cannot feel passer-bys stare Sizing me up Feigning deafness to the murmurs of my pronounced bones and sharp features All I am is a hanger for clothes A display, a game, a gamble They want it to pay off So they tell me it will all be okay Because I am beautiful
0
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
Their Gamble
When things go south Travel When it doesn't all fit Travel When colours get dull Travel When monotony overflows Travel Travel Because there is no use staying You are a passenger You have always been Travel Because you must one day go So why not set out in your today too? Travel Because life is fleeting and time ain't still Because as your soul grows weary It needs freshness instilled ! Travel Because there is no one good time to go Because you can always get out and let it all flow Travel my friend, don't waste quietly in thy hermit cove For there is a great lot you aught still to see And there is a great lot your soul daily does sought Travel .. needn't pack away, keep thy baggage at bay For you are not leaving.. hands-full ! Nor your gold, neither valor shall you take back Travel Let the air of those gone-bys rinse through as you soak their yonder sighs; Travel, as the sights of the bygone monumental leaves you mesmerized ! Travel Don't despair, the show goes on without you dear, Travel anyway .. and often. and you shall soon find thy home awfully near !
0
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 4:17 PM UTC
Travel
We've got sounds, we've got city. It's really coming down but I can't see it. Airplanes? Apollo or just another meteor? Weekend Thunder Wind on Friday morning. I can carry the thick. I can carry the idle. But my sea legs don't kick in while I'm standing on dry soil. If it's going to be Red Dawn, I'd like to at the very least Have a chance to put my boots on. But if it's not Construction or the chill Of Winter, it might just be the Weekend Thunder Wind doing fly-bys on a Friday morning. All night hungry burning sweet grass, California sage, and listening to the wind talks of the Navajo. She's asleep at my back, but the gusts are 21 miles per hour and chasing after all the gales. Another slamming, shaking crash from the Weekend Thunder Wind acting spoiled on a Friday morning. Dogs they **** inside the house. The shingles are getting gone. The tuning of the A-string is brutally wrong and off. I can hear T. Rex's dancing and having ****** Or maybe it's just the Weekend Thunder Wind waking up one day too early. I've been haunted thrice and seen my guts ooze out Its hellacious and abhorrent. But there's 17 more hours to hang out with The Weekend Thunder Wind while we get coffee and The Chicago Quarterly. If the Spring weather will be arriving soon. Let's wear our Ray Ban's and fly kites this afternoon.
0
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
Weekend Thunder Wind
Sitting in my bathroom sink contemplating late 20's I hear my heart filled with responsbility Giggles as barbies splash by The smiles make me reach for the sky Then the realness hits The dream was never thick I awake standing in black shoveling fries, asking if I can add anything else to that The passer bys say, "atleast you have your beauty" Beauty doesn't pay the bills unless you put it up for bid I could say **** this and quietly move aside Instead I'll swallow my pride Tell myself a lie, "One day I will hold my head high" For now I smell the salt as I continue to shovel fries
0
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
Something like that
There once was a Beatle and a Bird Who enjoyed a cup of tea every hour of the 3rd At whome, passer bys would exclaim “Absurd!” “These two could never give what the other deserves” But still the Beatle and the Bird Remained ever so undeterred
0
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
The Bird and the Beatle
Hush now Baby, don't you cry. Momma's gonna sing you a lullaby. Daddy's gonna stay up all through the night To keep those Creepies from creepin' in. Easy Darlin', rest your head. We'll check the closet, and under the bed. The front door's bein' guarded by our old hound dog Jed To keep the Creepies from creepin' in. (When I was small I wasn't too tall at all, In fact I was a tadpole like you... My Dad and Mom stayed up all night long To keep the Creepies from creepin' into my room) So hush now Baby, close your eyes. Mommy's gonna' sing you some sweet by-and-bys. And I'll be right here, next to your side To keep the Creepies from creepin' in.
0
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 2:59 PM UTC
The Creepies (a lullaby in G)
I woke up, and my ears were ringing like the Tell-Tale heart. Ring, ring, ringing like microphone headphones, the screeching dog whistle in a bitch's bad dreams. My scream-teen dreams of Slime Time Lives gone by drive-bys gettin' high, drank all the way to drunk and stayed up, still alive. A hangover hunger, eat that screaming meat till my warm puffy eyes well up with sleep, wait to wake up and repeat. Though I breathe easy I need pleasing, a fortune in fulfillment and still aches of incompletion. Mi hermano dice siempre, The poor search for food, the rich search for an appetite.
0
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
The American Hangover
outside ourselves: in the few, brief moments, staying inside the outer edge of this webbing we've woven for the the sake of this game that's created in itself. for the spider, as he calms the tension across his line as the wind blows, swaying him sideways. driven practically by survival hopeless in a world made by others he's getting caught-up in his own web; he's never seen, but not seeing through just his lenses that cover the top of his head. over, calmed now, the tension's applied tenderly. the treacherous passing of past passer-bys past his masterwork, the unluck ones only eaten, digested, and then forgotten. horrifically in complete sync with the idealism that had dulled every subjective idea he'd had, the spider found what he'd needed; some calming peace and serenity.
0
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
another kick out the catalogue
We shall dance In the darkness, When the moon is low in its brilliance Allow our shadow less graces to advance Amongst out figureless traces Embrace what time won’t allow Soon, we will dissolve into pleasures of romance Tired from our mysterious ritual of instances. Breathe your seducing treasures upon my Sweet gracious fortitude of chaos Torment my mind with limited words of affections While I tease your persona with restricted symphonies of Lyrical versus Shall we remain wordless? Dark roses fill our lungs Singing mindless praises Into the sweet alluring air of seduction With no introduction Mend back my broken art As I repair your broken heart. We struggle under our weight of Hushed passions in rushed fashions Fearing the passer bys will acknowledge our Unorthodox orchestration of tempered frustrations. I float on volcanoes He wallows in nucleus graces Featureless faces express a thousand rhetorical Bases Words unknown to the English language… Enveloped in bliss, sealed by your kiss I miss the earth’s stable grounds Waiting to depart from Venus, The goddess of love calls my name I ignore her, blue, holding my breath In vain… Quickly. Quickly Swiftly. Swiftly We paradise
0
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
Quickly Paradise
Don't wait for the right boy He does not exist. Fairy tales are not reality. There is no waking up From this nightmare. No falling asleep to Sink into a dream. She wonders how Many apologies She will have to make up for. How many good bys She will have to say. She wonders if The man she Marries Will have the Right words To patch the holes In her Fragile Daughters Fragile heart.
0
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Fragile
glossily white attitude, princess and rainbow goon how i'm feeling you, don't have to lie, last night we were blasting off, flying, watching our city when i woke up, you were laughing, you are lifestyle i'm your drug, like beat and melody, djset and rapz we are totally white like the meetings of escada 24/7 way of life, the pulse of days flashing past look, my name is tizzop, look, how i'm splashing this waterfall is soaking you, powerful pressure jason is stuck to the mirrors, drive-bys and k.o. 100.000, 00 $, spent on a party night you can start hating me, you better go skating i am excessively ray ban and i love to fill mouths enuff talking, let's go, for sure, 3:05 am mercedes maybach and chauffeur, life is easy i deal with twelve souls, soon to be trippled all the kids are trippin', pearly white nights like frippin i am writing on snowwhite cliffs, ocean full of glowing fishs i got the magical pillow, you may fall in love with me always hitting the center, mansions for your longing
0
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 6:12 PM UTC
Frippin' Freely
People have strong feelings about nonsense. Unaware of the by-products of fervent tenet. The ardent flames burn hotter than any dogmas of faith. They are swathe in this magma. Burning all those near, churning deep-rooted fear. Making it crystal clear for some, but foggy glass for others. Colourful grey matter yet mindlessly They clutch on too much to the senseless crux of the matter. Somethings may be in flux Places and faces among other things but the same truth endures. Those whose eyes are blinded by creed, ensure that only casualties and tragedies will arise from their fallacious activities. When will these attitudes changes? A question I can not answer with any certitude. Only hope a solution will come post-haste as we are faced with too many ghosts. Passer-bys erased simple because people have strong feelings about nonsense.
0
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
People Have Strong Feelings About Nonsense
Dying dreams exchanged for Fairy dust and a doting Daddy, Dollars, drive-bys, euphoric highs: Glassy eyes and a hazy mind Just hellos - no goodbyes No lies of stardom and Starving on the street for a Script or a role that never ******* Followed through, none of that, No work, only play. Days wasted are over And sitting pretty is easy When there’s coke and Crime and corruption But you’re still the rose Growing in the play-pen, It’s lonely when they go The house is all to know, Porcelain doll with her Nose so white: do you ever dream of flight?
0
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
Benzo Beauty
Plant a seed Watch it grow Delicate petals unfold Untouched beauty So pristine Yet so alone Bathe in the sunlight Soak up the rays Grow ever more beautiful With each passing day Passer-bys walk on through Caress your petals Fawn over you “How beautiful you look” Your color so vibrant You extend into the sky Reaching so high But the clouds gather Their color darkens Drops flow Your beauty is marred No longer untouched You’ve been ruined for all
0
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
Internal Garden
We spent three months of our lives Together almost everyday In some formation We formed our own family Dysfunctional in all the usual ways We're all young And still in love with the world But terrified of our own lives It was a perfect mix We spent car rides together Squealing and singing, dancing and shouting Watching flamingoes sleep on lake shores And llamas grazing by the roadside We saw condors swooping overhead As we climbed what felt like mountains Compared to us Sleeping underneath more stars Than we had imagined were in the sky We got lost and found our ways back We got happy, waiting on lay-bys We got up At 4am, awoken by the sound of Out of tune harmonicas And your shouting We fell asleep To the sound of each other's heavy breathing Exhausted but satisfied Now we're apart But from our own bonds Woven like siblings, Like friends, Some of us like lovers And all we have left Are the photos we took together And the memories That I hope will last my lifetime
0
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
Nostalgia
In the tiny hours os the morning Long before the sun casts its Pre-dawn gray and the east Begins to light You feel the oneness of us all You hurt for the people who Really are brothers and sisters The people and families of Boston And Newtown And the people and families, victims Of random, meaningless gun violence Every **** day The kids lost every day in drive-bys And the men and women who Try so hard to hold it all together The families on the ramen noodles and Baloney and peanut butter plans with Hamburger Helper for a treat The men and women scared of Losing home--not just a **** house Don't you know, the only home Their kids ever knew And you hurt in the tiny hours For your people who no longer Can make the ends meet And you know a much bigger Struggle calls Our people are sick of hurtin and losin While those who really can Make things happen Sleep through the night Without a thought to us Lots and lots to do Woody said it right in a different But same kind of time This land belongs to you and me
0
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
Tiny Hours
I wanted to give you the world, Unfortunately it wasn’t in a college student’s budget. So I gave you the next best thing, I made you my world. Gave you the keys, And I threw away any locks. I let you free roam and play around my heart, and I prayed you wouldn’t play GTA 5. I may have a big heart, but it can only take so many drive-bys. Once you hit five stars, All I could do is spray and pray for my feelings. When you finally said goodbye, Everything hurt exponentially. So I tried to find the locks, Before the damage could be done. But they disappeared the first time I looked into your eyes, Eyes that completely changed my perspective. Once I opened up everything to you, Now I can't go back to heart lock down. My world has transformed, For better or for worse only time can decide.
0
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 2:02 PM UTC
Locks & Keys
I toss and turn, I sleep no more. Yawns widened, my eyes drip the tired cries. Wrists crack, body exhausted from staying still for so long. All the sheep inside my head, could never amount to all of those bottles on the wall. There were days that I learned how to sit still. These days moved fast, yet slow. Time told me to be on his side, so counted all the steps it took me to get into this bed. Death metal blasted from passer-bys on slick roads. Sign reads, "Drive Slow." Shocked to see a shadow, too soon sunken in velour.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
sleeper
Words have lost their meaning, Now that you have stopped speaking, They fall limpless and lifeless, Upon the cold stone floor, Where once you stood, Only to be trodden on by passer-bys, Afraid to stop, afraid to love. My ears do not wish to hear them fall, Do not want to listen to the dull thud upon the ground, All they long for are words of love from you, Mingled with the rise and fall of your breast And the gentle beating of your heart. But my heart does not wish to be loved anymore And with walls of Jericho I protect him And still I wish that you would come With trumpets heralding the love I want to feel But the walls still stand and the bricks do not tremble And since you are not there the trumpets are still.
0
Sep 13, 2020
Sep 13, 2020 at 9:04 PM UTC
Meaningless Words
neon skies and walk- bys how hard to remember thise faces. forgotten people, and they leave ni traces. How unfair we dont have the ability to carry ourselves and all of them. how cruel we can fall too far buf onlt fly so high. And if we try to hard we are plucked right out the sky. How sad to see someone fight so hard for their wings to simply die. But it wont stop you from trying. You'll still keep others feom dying. You'll wipe their teara when your friends are crying. Youll shine brighter than the sun so when they see the dark they know where to run. How kind you are to be the one, who knows when a smile-chain has begun. If i could be greater and better and grand, Id help you out. Someday- Ill give you a hand.
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Untitled