"genuinely" poems
it's very much easy to say
that today is the day
wherein you no longer
have feelings that grows fonder
for him— who you loved freely
but indeed so genuinely.
but your challenge
is to look at his every edge
and the way he laughs and smile
without asking for a while
if you still love him for real;
you should then infer
that you are now happier
without him— to whom you gave your all,
though from him you only got a downfall.
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 9:22 AM UTC
have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?*
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
It’s rare to find
people who
genuinely
actually
truly
listen
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 9:07 PM UTC
Falling in love with someone who is bipolar will never be easy.
There will be minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months where I'm unexplainably mean, or recklessly happy.
For a period of time, I may be all over you and want to smother you in my aforementioned reckless happiness, that I will forget to ask how you're doing and if you ate anything today. I will forget that unlike me, you need to sleep for 9 hours a day and that you're not fully ready to take on the world.
At some point, I will take a turn for the worst and will mope in unbelievable sorrow due to the death of my false happiness.
I will cry about everything and will stop calling, and forget to remind you that I love you so much and just need some time away.
My deep sadness will soon turn into unrelenting anger and I will tell you abusive things that I don't really mean.
I will be confused as to why I say them, and apologize a million times and try to explain that I can't control my anger, and that I need to leave and be away from people for a while, although I know nothing will really help.
You will insist that it's okay and tell me you love me.
For days, weeks, or months, I will do this, and you will soon think I am lying and think that I am just genuinely terrible.
My constant apologies will become nothing and you will soon distance yourself and start falling out of love, but still have a glimmer of hope.
After this episode, I will have a period where I feel nothing and am almost robot-like. You will feel unwanted and unloved and look at me with such sad eyes and get nothing but a shrug and a half-assed "sorry."
When you finally walk away, I will have more bad days than good days because I will regret not saying I love you more.
I will hate myself for being bipolar. I will fall back into my bad habits and soon you will be a distant memory.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
"DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE" PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS AND REPOST TRY TO KEEP IT GOING: HELLOPOETRY "DEAR BLANK" CHALLENGE SECRET SANTA POEMS EXCEPT NOT SECRET AND NOT SANTA RANDOM ACT/POEM OF KINDNESS STRANGER POETRY APPRECIATION
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. If you need an example I just posted DEAR IMALRIGHT which was exactly what I meant. Check out imalright's poetry btw it is amazing.
I plan on doing for more than one person and I'd love for you to do the same. Spread a little kindness, we could all use a little.
Also message me if you are going to do the challenge and message the stranger you do the DEAR BLANK challenge for so they know to look for and read your poem.
I just thought that Imalright who was a perfect stranger to me seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on her poetry so I chose her.
You do that too if you accept the DEAR BLANK challenge.
INCLUDE DEARBLANKCHALLENGE AS A HASHTAG IF YOU DO THE CHALLENGE SO EVERYONE CAN FIND THEM
please repost this over and over so we can get as many people involved as possible and try and make a difference in a couple people's lives because I just want to make everyone feel loved but I'm just one girl, I can't do it alone. Please help me with this and join me in the DEAR BLANK challenge. Take time out of your day to properly appreciate someone's poetry who you do not know.
PLEASE REPOST LET'S GET EVERYONE INVOLVED!!! ;D
THANKS!
-EMBER EVANESCENT
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
i had thought
the boy in my computer science class
with the foreign skin and army outfit
was the epitome of adorable
breaking into spanish when he got overexcited about learning
which was always
and i was excited when we were paired together today
until he seemed genuinely impressed by my competency
and contributed nothing
suddenly his misunderstandings of gender and sexism no longer
seemed like something i could cutely teach him about
but a tragic flaw
and a person i didn't want to be around
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
So apparently today is National Compliments Day.
I'd like to compliment Maha Salman.
She is a genuinely caring soul and has such a loving heart and an understanding personality.
Maha, thank you for being such a kind person and listening to me despite my extreme negativity. Thank you for talking me out of starving myself again, and being so compassionate. You mean a lot to me as a fellow poet and person. You are a beautiful friend :)
p.s. ur poetry is amaaazing
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.
Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.
You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.
Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.
You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!
Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
*
red - her lips tasted of wine and blood and all the pain she felt in her heart. she was driven by wild passion and survived solely on her intensity and strength. each breath she took was like fire; so absolute, so empowered.
orange - her hair was crafted from the bright ashes of a phoenix, kindled with streaks of gold. she always seemed to be her own lick of flame from the embers that burned in her heart to the coals that touched her soul.
yellow - her smile was light at your darkest hour, sunshine after a rainstorm. inspired by everything and nothing at all. she was the sun personified, the epitome of radiance.
green - her eyes were so deep and magnificent and ethereal, while still lit with puerility. she could look at you with those eyes and show you that she cared so passionately for you, no matter your mistakes or your faults.
blue - her skin drowned in an ocean of tears, storm after storm, each wave wracked her body. she trembled with heartrending sobs, each breath heavier than the last. her sorrow painted the depths of her, unseen to those who had not genuinely looked into her eyes.
purple - her organs were stained an ugly shade by the darkness she consumed. her hunger was insatiable. she filled her mouth with poison and swallowed it with a smile on her face. the air traveled from her bruised lungs, through her macerated throat, and out her smiling, stained lips.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
I'm afraid of losing my parents.
I'm afraid of death.
Never finding the "right one" is a fear.
Not being financially stable is a fear.
Never being genuinely happy brings me fear.
However, my greatest fear is not being great; not being successful.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
I can't name or count how many guys I've looked at approvingly thinking 'I'd love to **** him' or whatever people say when they give that approving eye glance and nod thing. Of course I do it. All the time. I'm eighteen for gods sake. I can look!
However,
I can count all the guys I've genuinely fancied on both hands.
I can count the guys I've really liked on one hand.
I can count the guys I've kissed on two fingers.
I can count the guys I've actually called my boyfriend on one finger.
But that is not the man I love.
None of them are.
Because he's not a statistic.
He's a part of my soul.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
When he left my mother told me something.
She said it's okay and this will pass
He's nothing compared to you
But as I laid there
On my bedroom floor
In the room where he claimed me
Where little girl dreams were shattered
I didn't believe her
Instead I screamed about how I hated life
How he left me like dust on my fingertips
Like the ash of my burned down home
Two weeks later and I'm a shell
Of who I was
Of who I am
Of who I'll ever be
My ribs poked out like piano keys
Just waiting to be played
And my collar bones
Oh they were waiting like glasses
Glasses expecting hard liquor
That I of course drowned myself in
The day her name left his lips
I was done for
I wanted to become nothing but earth and essence.
But my best friend cradled me
She promised I would find love again
That this hurt, no matter how bad it is,
Will only be temporary
I didn't believe her
So I rebelled against them all
It was only me
4 months later and I'm sitting in the car
My best friend sits beside me
I'm genuinely laughing
And she looks proud
Then she tells me how he's talking about me.
From my big black boots
My infatuation with peaches
To how I harbor guitar pics on every inch of my body.
I relapse into him immediately
I wanted him so bad
6 and a half months later and he tells my best friend
That he hates me
My name swims out of his mouth on a raft of profanities.
But it didn't hurt as much as I thought
I think I grew
Little by little I became the new girl
The one that writes again and breathes the air a little deeper than the others.
6 and half months plus 3 days
I caress my fingers over my body
The shower beats down on me
"I want to be your friend" I whisper to myself.
He was nothing but a thunderstorm
But I am more than he
I am the sun
The moon
The stars
I am the heavens
I am the thing everyone revels in
And I made it through hell and back
And now I can finally say goodbye
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
She sees things of beauty in all that she see
And what's beautiful to her seems ugly to me
What to her is a flower to me is a ****
We do seem so different so different indeed.
The window of her soul is open to light
She always seems happy and bubbly and bright
And her type of person a pleasure to know
For beauty goes with her where-ever she go.
Of those who are different good things she does say
And for to help out others she goes out of her way
She helps out the homeless and those in dire poverty
I do not know of anyone as great as she.
And sad to think her type are becoming more rare
For the poor and downtrodden she genuinely does care
To the most worthy causes her work free time she devote
Yet she is not seen as one worthy of note.
A beautiful person with a heart of gold
And surely her story deserves to be told
Not proud of her beauty and free of conceit
And people like her one does not often meet.
Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
Look at the happy people
Are they not all mad?
They’ll empty out their pockets
To give more, they wish they had
& they’ll do it with a smile
Because they genuinely care
May God bless the crazy people
Who give a **** when life’s not fair
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
What is it about this chase that eludes me
That runs away from me
That seeks to experience and then flee me
Until I get hijacked by another
Consenting to my own free fall into ignorance and bliss
Conditioning myself to transmit
Abundance without reservation
Until shot at the knee
But dragged along for a while longer
By the chains I so genuinely let bind me
And even before the wounds have healed
I don't stop running, I won't stop running
Resolute in a chase that targets me
I do so unconditionally
But you can't hijack my senses
I am not an experience or experiment worth having
I am not a temporary treat to be improperly digested and defecated
I am not an amber that ignites upon initial contact
To then be mediated or extinguished if the temperate is not right
I am not the holy water that you colonize
And shower with to cleanse you
To then invalidate that sanctity
When it falls down the drain
I am not a barometer that reliefs the labor
Needed to challenge the aberrations
Of your colonized and colonizing tendencies
I exist
Physically insignificant
As the earth that birthed me and will bury me
But eternal in essence
I am a permanent presence
I am an unforgettable imprint
I am your equal, no less, no more
The moment that we mutually acknowledge
Each other's existence
I have bound myself to you
From that moment...loved you unconditionally and eternally
And expect no lesser commitment
From you to me, or any other person you meet
And even after the wounds have healed
I don't stop running, I won't stop running
Resolute in a chase that targets us
We must unleash our abundance unconditionally
And when we leave
We will have given
Absolutely everything
That we had to give
During that time of our existence
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
My 2 Cents
“the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.”
Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter.
I’m a man, and I’m a feminist.
I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender.
My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste.
My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well.
My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence.
For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it.
I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman.
I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness.
Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in.
I am a man.
I am a feminist.
Peace.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
They say in this world that everyone starts with nothing, that everyone has the opportunity to climb to the top with a cup of effort and just a sprinkle of integrity, that everyone is born equal, and that everyone succeeds.
They are lying, if not to you, then to themselves.
Fact is that inheritance will always be present in this world; parents will always die and pass on their wealth to their children.
Whether we are aware of this or chose to acknowledge its existence is independent and non-influential to this fact.
A lying billionaire may have one daughter and she may never have to genuinely work a day in her life, while an honest but unlucky displaced man may have one son and be unable to give him but a pair of shoes to place over his soft feet.
We are unable to alter this occurrence, for it is natural to wish for one’s own legacy to continue not only in genes, but in wealth, fame, and power, but it is crucial to acknowledge the differences of the lives into which we are born.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
walk away from your computer lay down and make a call
i want you to travel deep into my voice i wont touch you at all
with ya own hand i want you to carress ya face slowly go down to ya breast
rub them squeeze them lick the tip of ya finger and moisten ya ****** yes
glide ya fingers across ya thighs listen to my voice as i take you on this ride
lights off door locked im not in arms reach
but if you close ya eyes my face you will see
i want you in a deep trance
as you explore with your hands
"where i wanna be"
right next to you in the dark, naked between ya sheets
kissing and carressing every inch of your body i want to taste
i go inch by inch i promise to not let a drop go to waste
"wait baby dont let go of the phone"
i know it feels real and right but in reality it is wrong
continue, take that finger you use oh so much and let it play
rub ya **** left to right up and down every which a way
now go inside hit that spot to the left , im ya director baby
switch to the right go deeper in you didnt know ya fingers felt this amazing
you are wet, soaked and yet and still you listen to my voice
begging me to direct you a little bit more
so i explain how my warms lips are ready to explore
my wet tongue adds to the juices you already have flowing
i am eating you slow genuinely feasting on your soup of lust
circular motions on ya **** i know you never felt this and thats y you were about to bust
your fingers have found there way back inside of you for a new journey
now ya body is getting hot, **** ***** amd this nut you want it
chris is going to give it to you
back to being the director i put you in school
my voice guides you to a unforgettable moment
go a lil faster baby on that thing wet ya fingers a lil more
i know you already wet so let ya fingers slide ya ****** to the front door
loose yaself this last time
im ******* ya **** and you are loosing ya mind
ya body gets a chill from ya head to ya toes
you scream chris and i already know
on the phone i read you this *** poetry
now dont instantly stop i say carress it to ease
still i can hear you breathing heavily
you stretch, yawn and say i pushed you to the max
because you never had poetic phone ***
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 10:39 PM UTC
You misunderstood me
While I tried to understand you
I understood the games you played on me
But you misunderstood when the game was played on you
See I tried to understand that with love comes pain
But you misunderstood my love and thought it was all a game
You couldn't understand me the way I understood you
You ain't understand the love I gave was genuinely true
So instead you left cause you were so misunderstood and too lazy to try
To understand my love for you so you drowned yourself in your lies
Saying I hated you and I never loved you
Tried to convince yourself I didn't care
You became so misunderstood of me and tried to believe I was the person you made up in your head
All along you yearned for understanding and understanding is what I gave
You convinced me that our love was understood so it didn't need to be explained
In this misunderstood state of mind with these misunderstood thoughts
I wonder if you understood my love for you
Or were you just so misunderstood that you never even gave love a thought...
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Every girl like me dreamed to have a prince charming,
Who will treat me as his princess.
I want my prince charming to be -
Handsome,
With really cute smile;
And when I'm walking with him in the mall
Other girls couldn't stop staring at us,
Wishing they have a prince like mine.
I want someone who sings well,
He'll write songs for me
And keeps on serenading me,
Making my me blush all the time.
I'm quite a tall girl,
So he must be at least 4 inches taller than me.
So that even though I'm on my stilettos,
He would still stand tall.
But as I grew older,
I realized that my childish imagination of my prince charming has changed;
Just a decent-looking guy is enough,
I no longer care if he sings well;
I'm no longer too particular of his physical appearance
'Coz I realized
That what's inside his heart is what matters most.
Now, what I want is a sweet guy,
Who will turn ordinary days to special ones,
Keep on surprising me
Making me always happy.
I want to have someone who -
Will genuinely love me;
Is trustworthy;
Will get my family's approval and respect them;
Is a God-loving one;
Will truly care for me;
Is dependable;
Will be true to me;
Will accept me for who I am really;
Will always be there for me.
Whoever he will be,
I will love him for eternity.
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
I get genuinely psychotic in the morning
when the sun creeps out to see
If I slept last night I would want to put a gun in my mouth
(breakfast with coffee, black)
just you and me.
I get depressed long and hard, and often feel like
the cream cheese that you scrape off your bagel.
As the hour goes on everyone's two dimensional
(photo-copy of photo-copied, of photo-copy)
and you are scraping your bagel
of the unwanted (but served anyway) cream cheese,
"You," (probably the plastic knife in this analogy) "drive me..."
Spat! in the trash
as your upturned nose tells me how much our days together
are measured in inches, not yards.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
I've been ****** over and left for dead what makes you think I can't rise up and lyrically behead at least you were honest and said that you genuinely didn't like me but **** you I tried to pursue you I put my pride to the side told you all my demons i contained inside now I have to excorsice my hell from this ****** hellion I'll burn your soul like Ether either you or that ashy **** that's been on your nuts since day one I slay son **** you and him he can have your drunk *** I've blasted on to bigger and better things than an anorexic ***** who only is honest when she's of the **** I glimpsed what could've been and you through it away it's too late now watch me make millions and you'll be the first call offering up ***** like it's on a dinner plate **** you **** you wasting people's time eating my heart like a sandwich you should've made me now you can eat these nuts oh wait you've already had enough dragged on your face maybe even had a few golden showers you little coward
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC