"disapearing" poems - Hello Poetry

The noise of the night now comforts me. The stove creaks as it cools, jets decend to the airport and the traffics throng wains. The day unwinds, its events now memories already. Each event, each thought like a train on its own little railroad, disapearing into the depths of the mind. When morning comes a clean slate. Then within seconds the thoughts that dwell, stress and depress, once again tear along the tracks till they overwhelm you. They just circle the mind on little railroads. No journey to speak of.

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Apr 14, 2014

Apr 14, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC

MichealWolf

Little railroads

The noise of the night now comforts me. The stove creaks as it cools, jets decend to the airport and the traffics throng wains. The day unwinds, its events now memories already. Each event, each thought like a train on its own little railroad, disapearing into the depths of the mind. When morning comes a clean slate. Then within seconds the thoughts that dwell, stress and depress, once again tear along the tracks till they overwhelm you. They just circle the mind on little railroads. No journey to speak of.

2

last summer I met a boy of 6 feet tall he is two years older than me he listens to punk rock has an alcoholic father, and his kisses are sweeter than honey and softer than silk we spent countless, long, dreamy cold, rainy, humid nights in my backyard with the smell of too much hairspray which I can not bring myself to smell again and mosquito spray which I never apply anymore 11pm 4am the hours passed by like minutes, seconds under the stars telling secrets I was scared scared of losing him even though he was already lost fading disapearing slowly and then all at once hallways silence stares me alone him and her 11pm 4am hours seem like eternitys, milleniums crying flashbacks thinking about the us that will never be blood spills on the paper spelling out your words, promises do I even cross his mind maybe probably not no I'm sorry I wasn't skinny pretty funny admirable good enough I'm sorry we didn't even say goodbye goodbye, Brandan

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May 31, 2014

May 31, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC

the-epitome-of-insane

A Letter to Brandan

last summer I met a boy of 6 feet tall he is two years older than me he listens to punk rock has an alcoholic father, and his kisses are sweeter than honey and softer than silk we spent countless, long, dreamy cold, rainy, humid nights in my backyard with the smell of too much hairspray which I can not bring myself to smell again and mosquito spray which I never apply anymore 11pm 4am the hours passed by like minutes, seconds under the stars telling secrets I was scared scared of losing him even though he was already lost fading disapearing slowly and then all at once hallways silence stares me alone him and her 11pm 4am hours seem like eternitys, milleniums crying flashbacks thinking about the us that will never be blood spills on the paper spelling out your words, promises do I even cross his mind maybe probably not no I'm sorry I wasn't skinny pretty funny admirable good enough I'm sorry we didn't even say goodbye goodbye, Brandan

51

*cookies crumbling in my mouth tea burning my teeth slowly making the cookie crumbles melt onto my gums... i sat layed on my old couch next to the big window in the living room the sunset creeping through the curtains painting my skin gold the tea fumes slowly disapearing into the thin air ...... i wondered and wondered "why?" .... "i dont know" responding to my own question laughing softly... the tv was on playing a movie my eyes tired my hands sinking in my couch... happy.. happy..*

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Feb 10, 2014

Feb 10, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC

BR

the beautiful silent laugh....

*cookies crumbling in my mouth tea burning my teeth slowly making the cookie crumbles melt onto my gums... i sat layed on my old couch next to the big window in the living room the sunset creeping through the curtains painting my skin gold the tea fumes slowly disapearing into the thin air ...... i wondered and wondered "why?" .... "i dont know" responding to my own question laughing softly... the tv was on playing a movie my eyes tired my hands sinking in my couch... happy.. happy..*

26

I hear about his face Being burned. I hear spokane played make belive with The true meaning of recovery. Are they all playing with syringes and needles so sharp You could weeve the strings into Linnens and portraits of your friends disapearing from every hill You lied about painting. Over and over we all waited at the end of the tunnel. until the last train gave us the message. "hes on his own now" I know they all tried. But now they will wait For him anticipating the sounds Of bells ringing a cadence saying " hes somewhere else now" They ask his mother " wheres evan" Even if she doesnt know Where he is anymore. Shell drum up half of The true answer Simply saying The words "I dont know" "I dont know"

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Sep 13, 2013

Sep 13, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC

michael-parish

Where is Evan?

I hear about his face Being burned. I hear spokane played make belive with The true meaning of recovery. Are they all playing with syringes and needles so sharp You could weeve the strings into Linnens and portraits of your friends disapearing from every hill You lied about painting. Over and over we all waited at the end of the tunnel. until the last train gave us the message. "hes on his own now" I know they all tried. But now they will wait For him anticipating the sounds Of bells ringing a cadence saying " hes somewhere else now" They ask his mother " wheres evan" Even if she doesnt know Where he is anymore. Shell drum up half of The true answer Simply saying The words "I dont know" "I dont know"

36

i am like the bread without yeast like all deserts sands that have blown away like the fresh waters of life has evaporated like the stars and sun disapearing in the skies like the oxeyen being depleted from the air like cars without tires i can go nowhere without you

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Jan 12, 2015

Jan 12, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC

kidcalvoaolcom

without you

i am like the bread without yeast like all deserts sands that have blown away like the fresh waters of life has evaporated like the stars and sun disapearing in the skies like the oxeyen being depleted from the air like cars without tires i can go nowhere without you

8

I stand there With twittle by my side Waiting for the others Waiting to make the exchange They come High out of their minds Threatening me Tell me what I have is a lie Their leader pulls something out of his coat GUN I hear twittle yelling something to me but I cant hear what he says my eyes only focus on the barrel in front of me Why I didnt run is a mystery to me BAM I've been shot at before I've been stabbed more times then I can count I felt the bullet go through me I felt myself stagger to the car Slump against it trying to hold on my vision blackening around the edges My hearing disapearing Is this what its like To Die? Twittle? Where is he? Will he be ok? My strength leaves me And I welcome Death

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May 20, 2014

May 20, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC

HawkFlight

One Bullet is all it Takes

I stand there With twittle by my side Waiting for the others Waiting to make the exchange They come High out of their minds Threatening me Tell me what I have is a lie Their leader pulls something out of his coat GUN I hear twittle yelling something to me but I cant hear what he says my eyes only focus on the barrel in front of me Why I didnt run is a mystery to me BAM I've been shot at before I've been stabbed more times then I can count I felt the bullet go through me I felt myself stagger to the car Slump against it trying to hold on my vision blackening around the edges My hearing disapearing Is this what its like To Die? Twittle? Where is he? Will he be ok? My strength leaves me And I welcome Death

35

Only a stranger with time. A friend in memory,and a lover in life. His soul engraved in my heart, his spirit blankets me in the dark. As a cool breeze passes by me ,thats when I feel his feather touch ,which gives me chills so briefly. When I look sharp and afar is when I see his sillouette walking slowly then disapearing into the dark

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Jun 11, 2015

Jun 11, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC

TheStregnthofWords

Untitled

Only a stranger with time. A friend in memory,and a lover in life. His soul engraved in my heart, his spirit blankets me in the dark. As a cool breeze passes by me ,thats when I feel his feather touch ,which gives me chills so briefly. When I look sharp and afar is when I see his sillouette walking slowly then disapearing into the dark

5

Can anyone take the memories? They’re beconing me to a place I never should be, They’re reminding me of mistakes sent free, An eternity of sin and greed, Can anyone take the memories? I can’t erase the one time I accepted a fantasy, Before losing the charity, That now I no longer have within me, Can anyone take the memories? Because they’re haunting my sleep, As I sit here and shake and weep, Thinking of the disapearing creep, He is hiding within my memories.

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May 23, 2018

May 23, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC

AlexanderHamilton

Can Someone Take the Memories

Can anyone take the memories? They’re beconing me to a place I never should be, They’re reminding me of mistakes sent free, An eternity of sin and greed, Can anyone take the memories? I can’t erase the one time I accepted a fantasy, Before losing the charity, That now I no longer have within me, Can anyone take the memories? Because they’re haunting my sleep, As I sit here and shake and weep, Thinking of the disapearing creep, He is hiding within my memories.

13