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"drives" poems
#*We're awakened to our insatiable longing for heaven through both beauty and the painful marring of it. For beauty hints to us of that for which we are truly made, and its marring shouts that we are truly not meant to find it here. We can be eternally grateful for beauty lost when we realize that it's one of the great secret-tellers of the universe. Still we fear it so and often fear even to hope for the beauty itself, though they are a necessary cycle that fuels us on and drives us home. We cannot deny or diminish our intense longing for beauty-- to see it and have it and be it, and we cannot pretend that its dreadful loss does not press down upon us like a crushing weight. We must let it crush us until our ache for heaven is excruciating.*#
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
Beauty and Beauty Lost
I saw you in winter, and thought of tree branches feathered by starlight in poorly lit neighborhoods. A hearth where the more honest parts of myself, I am bared fetal, warmed upon, welcomed. I saw you in spring, and thought of long drives in the countryside in the rain. Ice cream melting from our chins dancing petrichor upon our toes, kissing by the sea shore. I saw you in summer, and thought of sleepy boathouses, uncovering ancient childhood treasures in the woods. A secret lake somewhere, the sky's reflection in promise. Windy hilltops upon which to blame each other for the sunrise. I saw you in autumn, and thought of scarfs and cafes, city streets and sunsets where we watched each others breath escape. Apartment staircases where windchill hibernates, the world slowing down around us from your window. The first time I saw You, I thought to myself, "I could live there."
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
I saw you in seasons...
It’s the name of the game. We're slaves to our secret place. Even if we discreetly meet, since we hate being apart. Safe and sound with you baby, all I need is your sweet heart. Our secrets intertwine, We play and tease and test. The tension simmers up inside. We form an explosion of emotions, as powerful as the windiest storm; but we only see each others eyes, lying naked on the floor. And when I said “No I love you more” you melt and slam the door. Gently kiss my hair, and nibble on my neck. Caress me everywhere, till I softly moan in your mouth; and it drives you wild, so you quickly go down. Kiss my legs, then my thighs. Now my whole body shakes, you **** on my every curve. I pant louder and louder, then scream “please don’t stop”; but you want me so bad. Oh and you are rock hard, so you slip right inside; and we make passionate love in the dark
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 3:16 AM UTC
Magnets
Of ones heart with shadows lurking to take over spite is made precious to be felt exciting while it is in fact trecious, but a sleeping terror awakens at times as well, thus a rampage is made amongst it, A thrill wandering down your spine when you wrong someone and see them tremble through your actions a cold shiver followed by spite Choosing a carefree life, yet unable to hide the fact that no spark would be able to illuminate whats in your dark, where angels fear to tread, only to explore this loitering abyss within you for some time, All this blood lust must bring you to insanity, make you a lunatic, But let it happen, in this emotionless shell it's what feels majestic, The storm raging inside, waiting to feed on this caused chaos, Evil and vile, heartless not carrying a smile while mercilessly continuing this riot of a resented soul waiting, longing for destruction Feeling alike to be burning up, priceless about this act of cruelty until the wanted realisation drives its way into your soul and you question yourself what you have done, or why you have done it for anyway, But the time will come again for sure, so be ready for it to arrive When the sleeping terror awakens for another dance ~ Umi
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 7:34 AM UTC
The thrill of Spite
PATIENCE is one virtue so rare That is often missing in our daily affair PATIENCE is a companion of wisdom He who has it stands among kings in any kingdom It is an habit that cannot be thrown out of the window Without it lives you in a place of limbo PATIENCE is not just how long we wait But how we behave while we wait It is a virtue of grace put together to make a pretty face One year of patience equals ten years of peace PATIENCE is the key to contentment That locks every gate of resentment One ounce of patience is more than pounds of brains Investing in the bank of patience yield no loss but more gains PATIENCE makes lighter what impatience may not heal Driving through a narrow road but on a balance wheel A heart fuel with patience drives with an unseen speed It might be a soar fruit but with a sweet seed PATIENCE is truly a virtue acquire it if you can It will make you a good father,a better mother and a perfect human
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
PATIENCE
Oh, will you ever return to me, My wild first force, will you return When the old madness comes to Blacken in me and to burn Slow in my brain like a slow fire In a blackened brazier - dull like a smear of blood, Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering up in a flood! Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song? Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over the huge wrong of that slow fire of madness that feeds on me - the slow mad blood thick with its hate and evil, sweltering up in its flood! Oh! will you not purge it from me - my wild lost flame? Come and restore me, save me from the intolerable shame Of that huge eye that eats into my Naked body constantly And has no name, Gazing upon me from the immense and Cruel bareness of the sky That leaves no mercy of concealment That gives no promise of revealment And that drives us on forever with its lidless eye Across a huge and houseless level of a planetary vacancy Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame, Lost magic of my youth return, defend me from this shame! And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright song Not cure but answer to earth's wrong
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22.8k
Last Poem
She glistens in shades of rose wine Warmth melting inhibitions Flesh begging to be devoured A hint of its sweetness beckons as it lingers on still air Molten steel Heat rises A gentle touch Electricity liquefies There, in the light transformed by a glance that holds a promise of passion Aquiescence in liquid candy She is consumed He is ravenous yearning to be sated Yet, feeding the very hunger that drives him straight through her soul
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Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Sugar High
Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not. Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room. Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life. Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them. Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place. Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage. Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws. Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: **** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself." It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
Defining Depression
Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not. Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room. Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life. Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them. Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place. Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage. Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws. Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: **** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself." It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.
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9
Oh I wish so much you would remember those happy days when we were friends. Life in those times was so much brighter and the sun was hotter than today. Dead leaves picked up by the shovelful. You see, I have not forgotten. Dead leaves picked up by the shovelful, memories and regrets also, and the North wind carries them away into the cold night of oblivion. You see, I have not forgotten the song that you sang for me: It is a song resembling us. We lived together, the both of us, you who loved me and I who loved you. But life drives apart those who love ever so softly without a noise and the sea erases from the sand the steps of lovers gone their ways.
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19.3k
The Dead Leaves
I often envisage love as snowflakes- Each of us have it different but it’s really just the same with its imperfectly etched beauty only few can comprehend Its beauty can never be expressed in words or even a sliver of what it’s worth The snowflakes are piling up and the shivers are ethereal we don’t even realize that it drives us delirious The snowflakes keep piling up but it doesn’t end here it’ll drown us in its avalanche and leave us gasping for air. -m.j.a
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
you're my snowflake
They brought a great big elephant Indeed, they brought him everywhere It is a massive elephant Still, nobody seems to care For that reason, I inquired of this elephant Because I simply could not ignore So I asked them why in the hell Would they bring an elephant for? An elephant is so obnoxious It drives me up the wall! When people readily ignore it Just because it's against the law!
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Elephant in the Room
I once thought there wasn't any life outside of this town, but I was okay with that because it had everything I needed. But what do I know? We are all so young, running through parks, climbing up mountaintops. Strolling past all the shops and driving around this town going nowhere in particular, I thought that it simply could not get better than this. We loved each other like the stars I thought that nothing could separate us. We were sure to last, but little did we know that all these days will belong to the past, and everything that we always did now live on pages on thousands of papers and in pictures tucked away in a box of old things. Happiness was in the air that day when we all were together once again. The moon shined bright that night, lighting the path that we once drove down every day. This city just seems so small now that I have broken all its walls. I drive past all the places we left marks on in this city. The now vacant houses that once held so many memories, the lunch table where our love blossomed, the midnight drives to the movies, getting excited over slushies, and the lakes we learned to float. I look back on all these places and think about all the things we ever did, I simply thought that it could not get any better than this. Setting the new year on fire. Dancing to the sounds of Grease. Picking peaches in celebration of spring. Watching all the bands we ever loved. I would forget all my stress and worries thinking about it all. Can it get any better than this? I want to thank this town for all the stories I wrote. All the times we felt like children. All the times we rose with the sun. All the times I felt loved by all the people that were my stars. As I'm driving through this town and watch it grow smaller in my eyes, I imagine a time when I was not alone. I know getting older can seem quite strange at times, but what do I know? All I know is that there is just so much to see, and sometimes the grass isn't always green as it used to be. But as long as I have these memories, it couldn't get any better than this.
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:42 PM UTC
Hometown Forever
I once thought there wasn't any life outside of this town, but I was okay with that because it had everything I needed. But what do I know? We are all so young, running through parks, climbing up mountaintops. Strolling past all the shops and driving around this town going nowhere in particular, I thought that it simply could not get better than this. We loved each other like the stars I thought that nothing could separate us. We were sure to last, but little did we know that all these days will belong to the past, and everything that we always did now live on pages on thousands of papers and in pictures tucked away in a box of old things. Happiness was in the air that day when we all were together once again. The moon shined bright that night, lighting the path that we once drove down every day. This city just seems so small now that I have broken all its walls. I drive past all the places we left marks on in this city. The now vacant houses that once held so many memories, the lunch table where our love blossomed, the midnight drives to the movies, getting excited over slushies, and the lakes we learned to float. I look back on all these places and think about all the things we ever did, I simply thought that it could not get any better than this. Setting the new year on fire. Dancing to the sounds of Grease. Picking peaches in celebration of spring. Watching all the bands we ever loved. I would forget all my stress and worries thinking about it all. Can it get any better than this? I want to thank this town for all the stories I wrote. All the times we felt like children. All the times we rose with the sun. All the times I felt loved by all the people that were my stars. As I'm driving through this town and watch it grow smaller in my eyes, I imagine a time when I was not alone. I know getting older can seem quite strange at times, but what do I know? All I know is that there is just so much to see, and sometimes the grass isn't always green as it used to be. But as long as I have these memories, it couldn't get any better than this.
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50
I reached up into the top of the closet and took out a pair of blue ******* and showed them to her and asked "are these yours?" and she looked and said, "no, those belong to a dog." she left after that and I haven't seen her since. she's not at her place. I keep going there, leaving notes stuck into the door. I go back and the notes are still there. I take the Maltese cross cut it down from my car mirror, tie it to her doorknob with a shoelace, leave a book of poems. when I go back the next night everything is still there. I keep searching the streets for that blood-wine battleship she drives with a weak battery, and the doors hanging from broken hinges. I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love. a confused old man driving in the rain wondering where the good luck went.
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16.2k
I Made A Mistake
Struggles come and struggles go annihilate each, together with its' bearer regardless if he identifies himself as friend or foe Struggle aims at destruction, and drives you to the floor Remain resilient and savior respiration, for struggle conquering techniques, you shall soon know Struggle fails, yet departs having left a mark For light to shine brightest, we must first experience the dark Embrace your struggles, your battles and daily rumbles For they are fueling you for success, and struggle is your spark
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
Struggles
I want to put a card in the spokes of my bike and ride until the sound drives me crazier
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Ride
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display, Encased in vats of plastic,                                                        we Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play. Mindless,          In the soup of silicone,                                                          all Myth-makers,          Pouring over electro-spawned          networks,                                                          fall Workers,           In the buzz of bits and bytes, of           megabytes and terabytes,                                                          down Everyone           Far from the wood, the brine, the           mud that caked us,           In tighter and tighter           digitised  projections,                                                          click! ‘Like me’, ‘Share me’, ‘Leave your comments.’ Messages smoothed out in polymers, Beyond reproductions of ourselves,                            enter: Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious, Now a waking voice,           Hardened, digitised, recorded in           bubbles, in drives, in clouds:                          Numb numbers of numbers numb,                           mirror.           A platform slotted home: The motherboard!           To record the echo in the hollow           of our Being.
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Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Silicone Souls
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display, Encased in vats of plastic,                                                        we Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play. Mindless,          In the soup of silicone,                                                          all Myth-makers,          Pouring over electro-spawned          networks,                                                          fall Workers,           In the buzz of bits and bytes, of           megabytes and terabytes,                                                          down Everyone           Far from the wood, the brine, the           mud that caked us,           In tighter and tighter           digitised  projections,                                                          click! ‘Like me’, ‘Share me’, ‘Leave your comments.’ Messages smoothed out in polymers, Beyond reproductions of ourselves,                            enter: Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious, Now a waking voice,           Hardened, digitised, recorded in           bubbles, in drives, in clouds:                          Numb numbers of numbers numb,                           mirror.           A platform slotted home: The motherboard!           To record the echo in the hollow           of our Being.
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37
Please, close the door, and lock it shut These feelings are the death of me Unbearable sadness coupled with undying rage Drives me sane, woke up in the hospital with a cold sweat. All alone. alone with my thoughts, I cannot sleep So I stare at the white ceiling thinking of you, Wondering what I could of done to deserve this. I tried to be a good friend, I know sometimes it doesn't seem like it, I am full of love, but I don't know who to love. Opening up to you took more effort than imaginable, you take it for granted, but that's okay. Use and abuse me I'll take the abuse.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
I'll be here
She is A Queen She's something special, similar to a candy coated dream. The God in her will sooth you soul as if you were Listening To the sound of the rushing river Streams Her spirit Shines brighter than a car's high Beams. Her love is sweeter than brown sugar And Me oh my she is Looker Her big chestnut sultry eyes reveals the beauty of Her soul inside. I can just smell the aroma of her Shea butter and coconut fragranced skin as it glows due to her internal flame shinning within. Cocoa Brown is the color of her melanated Bronze complexion. Man, her smile drives me wild. That luminous smile, her glorious smile, is as gorgeous as the clouds when she shows her pearly whites. It brightens my day like a lamp in the darkness of the night. And her mind Is a secret treasure That only her King Can discover and uncover the bountiful mountains he'll climb. She's Artistic and Musically Inclined And at the drop of a dime shell bust out in A poetic rhyme And her words, Gosh her blissfully profoundly spoken words, will send chills up your spine She's My own little personal ray of sunshine Radiating truth and her words are so kind She's simply divine She's a peacemaker staying serene From the inside out she is a beautiful Human being She's good for your mental hygiene Kinda like how your body needs protein. Royalty is embedded in DNA gene And her crown is made of lustrous flowing locks shining like oil sheen. She is Royalty, She's My sister from another Mister, She is an Unshaken, Strong, melanized Beautiful Queen.
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Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
"She Is A Queen"
She is A Queen She's something special, similar to a candy coated dream. The God in her will sooth you soul as if you were Listening To the sound of the rushing river Streams Her spirit Shines brighter than a car's high Beams. Her love is sweeter than brown sugar And Me oh my she is Looker Her big chestnut sultry eyes reveals the beauty of Her soul inside. I can just smell the aroma of her Shea butter and coconut fragranced skin as it glows due to her internal flame shinning within. Cocoa Brown is the color of her melanated Bronze complexion. Man, her smile drives me wild. That luminous smile, her glorious smile, is as gorgeous as the clouds when she shows her pearly whites. It brightens my day like a lamp in the darkness of the night. And her mind Is a secret treasure That only her King Can discover and uncover the bountiful mountains he'll climb. She's Artistic and Musically Inclined And at the drop of a dime shell bust out in A poetic rhyme And her words, Gosh her blissfully profoundly spoken words, will send chills up your spine She's My own little personal ray of sunshine Radiating truth and her words are so kind She's simply divine She's a peacemaker staying serene From the inside out she is a beautiful Human being She's good for your mental hygiene Kinda like how your body needs protein. Royalty is embedded in DNA gene And her crown is made of lustrous flowing locks shining like oil sheen. She is Royalty, She's My sister from another Mister, She is an Unshaken, Strong, melanized Beautiful Queen.
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26
I want to believe that you went home, And thought about me. And us, And all of the places we go could, Songs we could listen to, And long late night drives that wouldn't be so lonely. But realistically, You probably banged some other girl on your couch, Not even remembering my name, While I dreamt beautiful things about you.
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Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 11:28 PM UTC
wishes
I enjoy distance Long drives with no destination Music blaring,  miles growing I enjoy distance Long walks to nowhere The peace calms my restless soul I enjoy distance Little steps each day Away from difficult situations I enjoy distance Between people and places And me I enjoy distance It gives perspective Emancipation I enjoy distance I also enjoy coming home When distance has run its course
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Distance
I have a disability Because it is lack of memory Others refuse to accept it is The way my mind shall be After testing my memory The PhD of Neuropsychology Agreed that I suffer with Cognitive impairment, MCI My forgetfulness is here to stay With me until I die Yes, I can exercise my brain It may help a bit, still I will forget So just accept it!! PLEASE QUIT Telling me to exercise my brain I know my limitations best, oh Yes! Everyone telling me to try to remember is really what Drives me insane!!! I have tried my hardest everyday For years I have been fooling You All in so many ways! Now the truth has escaped It is a relief, I must say I am so tired of playing The main role on the stage Every single day!! Please, all of you quit telling me To exercise my memory If this was happening to you, God forbid, then perhaps you Would understand me when I say I am tired, oh so tired, of striving for just an ounce of memory Day after day!!!! So again I say Please, just let me be Me! The Ole' lady with memory disability THIS IS ME, ₩€ND¥°•°°•°•°°•°•°°•°•°°•°•°
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Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
MEMORY DISABILITY
When I Take A Selfie I always have a lot of fun In the mist of my own I fall in love with me When I take a selfie I walk around the place Caring for my pretty face It is so pleasing to me When I take a selfie I meet girls and women And tell them in vain This is memory for me When I take a selfie My beauty drives me crazy Always keeps me busy I always think only of me When I take a selfie I get an immense pleasure To open up the treasure I look at none but me When I take a selfie S. Bharat
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Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
When I Take A Selfie
Doom train hurtling along Through the fog in my mind Towing freight, rectangular and oblong Dim headlights, you're travelling blind Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel Undetermined path, rails will choose Chugging along on dirt covered wheels In the cabin, I see the light Emanating from your furnace Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite Tongues of flames licking the surface Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke Almost unseen, against the dark of night A long plumy arm as if extending to choke And plug the remaining sources of light Meandering precariously on tracks that weave Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain Your store, so reliably you heave Worming your way through my brain What's in that cargo of yours? What lies within those boxcars? What drives you to diligently run your course? What fuels you to travel near and far? Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach Snaking your way to an unknown destination Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach Herald the train of dubious intentions Light is upon you, dark will dissipate Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
Doom Train (I)