Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Moon Nectar Nov 4
Who knew it could be this easy
To live
In two places at once,
Where I am
And then
Where you are
For my body sleeps still
In my bed
But my mind
Runs away in the night
To be in your arms.
Easy? No
But the scars you leave
When you leave
Heal a little more
Each time I close my eyelids
And see you
Peering in through the darkness
Shining your effulgence
Til morning sunrise
Inday Sep 11
A cigarette in the morning
To get me over the night time
I forgot to sleep again
My eyelids live on high time.

It's fine I'll just play the guitar
Drink a cup of coffee or two
Walk along to my sanctuary
In my mind I'll write songs to you

A cigarette after midnight
To overcome all this silence
I don't want to sleep again
My eyelids wait for sunrise.

Another double expresso
Until my heart starts to echo
And then I'll stop and start breathing
How d'you get rid of this feeling ?

I'm thinking again of the morning
In the red of the wine time
This bed has become me
I'll get out of here sometime.
gather and collect
and then offer your sympathy
feelings deflect our sorrow and antipathy
life is brimming with good deeds
i remain steadfast in all that i seek
sweet love is among us now
her eyes and hands
feed the mouths of two rivers
i chase winter into her bed
our eyelids lift as we drift south
and lots of people desperately
cling to their doubts like old lovers
Tell me I'm not this. The blue began to flood
inside a room once painted black. Tell me I don't
see this. The orb of morning peering its start right to
my eyelids that can't even close. Tell me I don't hear
this. Birds chirping for sunrise, playing lightly as my
lullaby. Tell me I'm dreaming. My leg still twitches,
seven in the morning, because I'm afraid I'll lose myself
before dawn. Shedding emotion in fast waves of flight,
tell me I didn't run through time, making stars out
of daylight. Orange in the sky, and not from shy
headlights in insomniac cars. Yellow, making its fellow
opening for my uncomforted sleep, not a nightlight like before,
no. Tell me I'm not this.
All feedback is welcome
Danny Z Jul 23
Capricious Destiny

“It’ll never work,” I said to my friend.
“Don’t be insecure, be a man,” he said.

Not a whisper or stir but the sound of her breath in quiet moments with soul so still I feel the weight of her ******* and significance in my life overwhelm me with flesh and an opiated head nudging me to wonder if all past mistakes were pratfalls into channels of grace guiding me to her roping light in the room where moon drowns the dark never had a hue of sublimity until I felt the fire of her breath warming me--the wings of the soul *** blew into Adam bringing he and I to life with a kiss her heart on mine forms a circuit--what comes out, comes back, electrified and perfect, and see how sleep comes easily to an emptied mind with bright brown eyes draped by pear-skinned eyelids, asleep, her breathing--loud and deep--like Darth Vader and I wonder if this moment has layers like the rings in the sequoia of time sprouting a thousand incarnations of sons and sighs and embraces parted by dust and us--the gravel flowers uprooted like this bygone twilight opiating insight: this was meant to be. And with a notion to be one with her, as odd a notion as it may seem, I synchronize my breath with that of hers--In...out...together now, one being: Adam and Eve.

“But not so fast!” cackles Destiny!
Or perhaps my ****** self-fulfilling prophecy.
patty m Jan 9
Through the Looking glass
Alice stands in all her splendor.
Her hair a curtain of silver rain,
her soft skin aglow in subliminal light.

A compelling fever rises
as Thomas tries different ways to pull
her up in memory
while writing himself into the tale.  
Poor Thomas delirious in his dilemma, he knows
this will be no easy seduction.  
How fiercely urgent his desire rises
as he longs to end our heroine's self-imposed abstinence.  

Hot April morning ambush,
and our intruder has beguiled our sweet Alice
with heated kisses sweeter than ripened fruit.  
A wildness stirs in the bloodstream.  
Now he slowly and lovingly explores her pristine body
as she shivers beneath his delicate strokes
until high trills rise to fevered pitch.

Pleated line of sky
muted corners softly come into focus.

Loathe to let her go,
passion stirs in his depths
slowly now he tastes her secrets,  shares her pleasure.

Tight buds of anticipation tenderly plucked,
his fingers find the stem, a measure of moisture;
Nimble fingered harmonies play pleasure symphonies
accompanied by soft echoes of youthful delight  
Warm and breathless, crystal rainbows paint the inside of her eyelids as she grows sleepy in afterglow.

Soon he's torn away, his pale poet's face conveying pain
received from this  now cool disconcerting beauty;
Though he touched folds and frills of every petal,
his chapter is immediately erased and the
original story reappears.  

She may have slipped down the rabbit hole,
but forever ladylike and pure is our sweet Alice.
em Mar 2016
My eyelids seem
to be the strongest part of me.
When the rest of my body
falls
into the ocean
of blankets they
float open upon the white water
atop
the waves of sleep.
This is when you come back.
In this mattress I am a piece
of clay and I can still feel the deep indentations of where your fingers
wrapped themselves like Ivy around my hips.
Hips, that stuck out like white flags of surrender and
fell to the ground in a straight line.
I can still hear
you.
I am a broken record,
and your whispers are the only track that plays at this hour.
“You are fat”
“Look at how flat you are Emma, no boy will ever look at you.”
“You are ****.”
These are the nights when I can
feel the spiderwebs your words wrapped around my ribs and
listen to the way my heart beats constricted
in its cage, your hand still clenched around it.
Can’t you see me bleeding?
Safety lies
beneath my eyelids but you pull them open
I can feel
your icy touch behind my eyes as I stare
coldly at the ceiling.
you demand to be heard.
Did you mean to put your words
in my pocket when you reached in to steal the sleep that was nestled there like crumpled dollar bills?
Do you realize that you stayed with me?
Can you take your stolen midnight hours back and place them on your pillowcase?
Will your eyelids close?
Or can you still hear my cries of protest as your soundtrack plays into the night?
I don't understand?
Did you think it wouldn't hurt me?
Or did you want to live forever,so you put your
fingerprints where you knew they wouldn't fade.
This is almost the completed version of a poem I am submitting to a contest. Please please please leave feedback and suggestions. I really want this to go somewhere. I believe it is a message that people need to hear.
Next page