"haley" poems
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I think my mom's a homophobe
I think this because she said broken truths when I told her about homecoming
I told her about the girl with soft lips and small hands that fit perfectly with mine
But I just called her Haley
I had new words she told me
They suspiciously matched my schools words
Freak abomination loser
I now wonder if they were talking on the sidelines
I know
I'm supposed to love my mom
But do I still have to
If she hated me first?
She praised the all loving god onto me
Telling me his love was a lie
And I was going with the sinners
To the place where they drink fire *****
I think my mom's a homophobe
I text my religious cousin
Does God love everyone
Undoubtedly because you are perfect to Him
Then why does my mom hate me?
She made me get on my knees and pray
Pray a prayer I hope goes unanswered
By those who I think aren't even there
I think my mom's a homophobe
I know I'm supposed to love my mother
But how can I
If I don't even know how to love myself?
Every
What is that
You're such a waste
It can be cured
Like a snake on the asphalt basking in the hate
Until the asphalt is the road and I am run over by
Self pity. Self Hatrid. Self Absorbed.
Yes **** the terrorists
**** the rapists
**** the robbers
and the muggers
**** them all
Because who I love
Is more important
Me, I'm in dire need of your opinion
Mirrors don't line my eyes up anymore
I think they forgot where to put them
Because I forgot
Where to look
Looking only at the negative
Going on suicide boards
Instead of
Love boards
Why am I the one being subjected to evil
When I am only trying to love
Being hated for only
Loving
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who is the prettiest of them all
My lover is the one I see
Her soft lips and small hands
I think my moms a homophobe
And I don't know how to breath anymore
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 12:06 AM UTC
You're going to read this wrong,
Every single one of you.
Because you are not me,
And you cannot see what I'm saying.
No amount of stressed syllables in these lines can
ever describe what it means.
To me.
Why I wrote it.
Why I let you read it.
You will never understand
My understanding.
And that's okay.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
The Isle of Print
What a place it can take you anyplace you can meet anyone I met Sandra Locke when she wrote about
Her relationship then her break up with Clint she told about as a child how she sold pop bottles at a
General store that was one that took me back but even more exciting was where she was at a place
Called Shelbyville Tennessee I know it firsthand one reason it is seventy miles from Nashville and is the
Tennessee walking horse capital and all so my wife was born and raised there until she was six we would
Take trips there quiet often until two trips we carried her parents to the family cemetery on horse
Mountain we have my wife’s brother fighting Leukemia he said thats where he wants to be buried but for
Now God’s mercy is preventing that I met a guy and I’m sure you have met him many times also his
Name is Samuel Clemens he got a little more famous name when he had one of his many jobs as a Mississippi
River boat captain they called him just like when they measured the rivers depth mark twain he was a
News paper editor in Calaveras County he brought a simple frog leaping contest national notoriety for
Ever after known as the Calaveras bull frog jumping contest I bought three acres for retirement
Unfortunately I made like a bull frog and jumped off the property I drove a truck several times into
Hannibal Missouri you got a quick leap in your heart and head as you thought about the great river
Running by and all of the characters Twain created two losses are recorded there of course twain met
A fiery personage that was even greater than him a space traveler with a glory all together wondrous went by
The name of Haley the other less known but my heart slows when I think of her eight years old blond
Blue eyed her father’s and mother’s pride and joy he was a pastor in northern Illinois she lays in her
Sacred rest in Hannibal until that great waking up day as time goes on I get less and less patient if it
Weren’t for so many precious ones in danger I would be tempted to pray come Lord Jesus. Well not done
By any means just going to stop for now plan on going and doing some hard thinking
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
We will leave you in the midst
of a poetic truce, as you spill
experiences into our open palms.
Writing to make sense of what
has happened, nestling your
deepest secrets in our fingertips.
Our roots so deep in our poetry,
if you tried to unearth us, we would
shriek louder than banshee's.
Unravel our words, enter the
labyrinth of our minds, there are
sunsets in our stomachs, and
December runs through our veins.
We are the stars to your blank skies,
the pause between each ragged breath,
the tragedy suffocating the air.
We are the pause before the applause,
we are rarity's like Haley's comet,
making you scramble for a telescope.
Only crows writhing with broken
necks are more twisted than the life
stories resting under our tongues.
We are poets, engraved in history,
fluent in all that is artistic and worldly.
Poetry is a warm blanket we remain
hidden in on a cold winter morning.
Reality is a cold floor that our
bare feet are too scared to touch.
By Rapunzel and JannaLee Perry
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
"Pass me a shroom, give me the **** hit up the ****** tap on the alcohol, and trip out on acid." That's what they all say in this world; that's how they get their high. But for you; I see it in your eyes Haley. You get a different high. No, you're not high on living life. You are high on trying to figure out how to life life. You hurt and I see that. You take away calories to increase your happiness. Some add more **** to there needle to increase their happiness. Whether you are taking or adding; you are hurting. What was your gateway? Was it the scale? The girl in the magazine sitting on the shelf? How about the "pretty, skinny girls" in bikinis at the beach? Like everything bad in life there is always a start to it. Some become a drug addict by smoking a cigarette; "oh, ill just do it once". Was it that way with you Haley? Just one less helping of the side that was for dinner, just one less snack, just one less meal. We always have false realizations for our self and it ***** we discover them in such a bad way. Did you enjoy the control that you could and can have over food? "They can't make me eat any more than i want do". Druggies like the lose of control too. They feel at ease with themselves in the moment and maybe the next few days; maybe you did too Haley. Druggies have close friends they smoke around, they don't dare let in newbies. I heard of your friend, Ana. She sounds like a scary person; yet you are aspiring to be her. Haley, you've got so much more to give and experience then these foul emotions. With all things in life there must be an end; this is your time to start a new chapter. Learn to live without your addicting. You can do it. 1 in ever 200 women have an eating disorder; 1 in every 300 are addicted to drugs. You can beat this.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
Even though
You are only 12
You have the wisdom
And soul
Of someone
Who has
Experienced
A lot in life
I saw who
You were
Even when
You couldn't
I love you
Like a sister
And I will
Continue
To love
And to guide
You
Constantly
Watching
Over you
And helping
You along
Your way
I can't wait
To see the
Wonderful
And beautiful
Woman
I know
You will
Turn out
To be
In the
Meantime
Keep that
Wonderful
Beautiful
And sweet
Spirit that
You have
Don't let
Anyone
Take that
Away
I will be
Watching
And praying
And hoping
That all of
Your dreams
Come true
From me to you
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 10:43 AM UTC
I talked to him
About how today was hard
And I was tired
And felt ill
I didn't give him many details
Because he didn't quite deserve to know
Yesterday was harder
That was the initial crash
Today was the crumble
The final downfall
The worst part
Is that nothing
At all
Directly affected me
It was hall her
And her dad
And how she
No longer has one
If you share your problems with me
I will immediately turn them into my problems
And feel almost as bad about them
As you do
It's not intentional
It just kind of happens
Like a rainbow
Or a hurricane
I've been told
That the feeling
Is called empathy
And I'm empathetic
When I told him
I'm empathetic
He misunderstood me
You're not pathetic
Though I appreciate the sentiment
Taken from mistaken words
I honestly believe
That both statements are true
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
I tried to run away
But despite my best efforts
I couldn't avoid the truth
That in life, and in love
All of my paths, lead to you
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
We all know music started..
Well,
Since the cavemen were banging on raw meat and rocks
dancing to the tune they made,
And must I say,
It was a classic tune.
And classic tunes happen all the time,
Classical music,
Is by far my favorite kind.
Mozart, Chopin, Bach, Beethoven....
I could name more.
Rock and Roll,
Elvis Presley, Jack Brenston and The Delta Cat, Bill Haley, Chuck Berry..
"You ain't nothing but hound dog, cryin' all the time.."
There are different kinds of classical music
Just like Beethoven was deaf,
Elvis, the KING of rock and roll, not creator.
Even cavemen can bang on a drum and make a sound.
Music is made from sounds,
But to deliver it,
That's another piece of sheet music..
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
of course i left the shit-holes traumatised,
if i didn't read extensively i'd be
stuck in some slum for immigrants -
i mean, who, in, their, right, frame, of, mind
would teach children the basis
of abortion, among lessons about sniffing
glue (a practice in the Ukraine)
as if the 1960s psychedelic revolution never
took place? only the catholic church,
which loves the ****** of a John Smith...
i might as well be listening to Billy Joel
rolling a ****** Jesus... **** off...
take your little school while i learn
from the stoic Marcus Aurelius... seriously
Ben Hur und Aesop to you too! go on grovel
on your message: gehen nord...
yeah, because the romans were evil to incorporate
Judea into its pond empire...
the north men clashed with the jews in the Holocaust;
head north jesus said... so they headed in fakes...
polnisch hebräisch: Jiddisch Yiddish Jesus Jehovah
the tetragrammaton, ********
like they built the ******* pyramids...
sheep, sheep, sheep; i do better drumming
for the rhythm guitars than anyone,
esp. Billy on the MTV single hit about Australian
bushfire and a long list of names with rock around
the clock of Bill Haley & His Comets and oh ****** days
on the McDonald boulevard.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
My name is Haley Gilarwald
and I am a force of nature.
Not too long ago, the stink bugs invaded our city
Unlike aliens or the usual sort, these were just
plague.
Like swarms of locusts they came, but they never seemed to eat, rarely seemed to die.
They just clustered.
And wings, sounding like B-52 bombers, they rattled around the bare watt bulbs and roared, and I
Swear
to Jesus God
Drove everyone here mad.
I hate the little ********
I sit in my room, typing a dreadful paper for a dreadful class
when that hell sound shows up.
(my floors, they are hardwood!)
and so I stood
notebook in hand
and skivvy clad
I played tennis with the swarming thing
they do not die!
like men, they only keep coming back
little war machines
buzzing at my discontent
NO MATTER HOW MANY I FLUSH, THEY ALWAYS COME BACK
THE SAME.
(I am certain that they cannot die.)
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
Honeybeehive buzzingbuzzing,
With bustling here to there and
Careful placement of this and that
Little detailed speck: this larva to feed,
That one to clean;
All quicklydeftly done - and yellow
Drips of sweet ideas a-thrum in the hard
Wax cells in rows in walls
Of a mind or several thousand -
Several thousand little slipperies slipping
There to here, upstream swimming
Crowded fishy river to mating grounds
For thoughts:
Thoughts
Piling on one another and asphixiating
In the thought-filled water there is not enough breath
Even the strongest swimming "whatifmaybe" drowns
Under a flopping swell of scaleslimy facts.
And there am I planktondrifting
Inside under; through water rushing,
Dashing on rocks and off of rocks,
Nearly into drowning mouths a-gaping
And then in the white rapidfoaming water
Escaping.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 12:32 PM UTC
14 and so naïve
I could have sworn
you were the one
made for me.
It was like happy was bursting upwards
and pushing on the inside of my cheeks--
a smile.
Not hardly forced
Cleaning up the mess of past years from the carpets
In my Hawaiian themed bedroom
half lime green, half baby blue
and all Haley.
I sent you a simple apology
for kicking your feelings
and hurting your heart
A part of me knew we weren't through
the day we had finished.
When your best friend kissed me
at the top of a closed in stairwell
I guess I'd missed that feeling
where your fingertips tingle
at the tiniest touch.
You wrote back
with open arms
even with that stomped up heart
You asked what my favorite day of summer had been
foolishly,
I'd responded “this one”
Back when we knew everything.
When parents taught us nothing
and schooling,
even less
I'd missed you
the brown eyes I'd been in love with,
more so--
infatuated with.
I didn't plan
just played games
that felt sincere.
Toyed with hearts
that felt like home.
I don't know how you did,
or why,
but I sent you an apology
and you replied.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
Words can not describe
When I look into your eyes
Voice so soft and sweet
Makes me weak at the knees
Simply no other word
Whether said or heard
Brings joy and glee
Than the word "Haley"
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
trust is filled and spilled,
its lost and gained,
its stolen and given
and still, i trust no one
every single time i trust someone,
they hurt me
so why do i trust at all?
somethings are broken,
but sometimes,
they never get fixed
how do i trust someone,
when all they ever do is hurt me?
its like a loop,
it constantly terrorizes me,
at first,
i don't trust you, out of fear,
out of insecurity,
but then i let you in,
ever so slowly,
and then, when i'm not noticing,
you turn it all around,
you hurt me.
you hurt me over and over again
when i'm done with being hurt,
i move on,
just to find someone else to be friends with,
to trust,
and then to get hurt by all over again
i thought at 15,
your supposed to learn how to cook,
how to go out in the real world,
to prepare for college or your future
but i'm not learning that,
i'm learning how mean people can be
so, Kayla,
Sarah,
Haley,
Kelsey
Miss Shaddock,
and now Emmaliegh,
how do i trust again?
all you ever did was hurt me,
was it really that hard just to be a good person?
why did you hurt me?
i thought i could trust you,
now, i trust no one,
and that's because of you
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
Ripped open, bleeding the stardust of the heavens.
You were the comet, bright and brillant blue, coming to stitch up my wounds.
I was saved, not with antiseptic or morphine but the healing rush of your lips.
Electricity pulses from your tongue brought me back to life.
I found Orion’s Belt, you were my North Star.
Super novas collapsed in my lungs when I looked into your moon filled eyes.
I was the waves, under your spell I couldn’t fight the tide.
When you held my hand and said forever Haley’s Comet burst forth from my limbs and
I became a red blossomed nebula.
Yours, infinitely.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
You've stuck by me
When i was sad
Lonely
Hurt
Happy
Wild
Or crazy
You were always there to help me
You were always there to stand by me
Blood couldn't make us any closer
You are my sister
My best Friend
I would do anything to help you
And i hope that when we grow old and change
That we grow closer not farther apart
I love you like family
Always and forever
Sisters
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
18, no sense of purpose.
A bottle of pills and ***** later,
you're lying in a hospital bed.
You're not awake right now.
People keep asking me to give you some advice,
saying, "You know how it feels, right?"
How do I talk to someone who's hardly even there?
This hypocrisy echoes like a church bell in my head,
I don't practice what I preach.
I ask people to reach,
out for me,
out to help,
but I can't even reach out to you?
I can't help the fear.
How do I tell someone it'll all be okay,
especially when I'm still fighting to find a reason to stay, myself?
I last saw you at Christmas, a family event.
You even had me fooled, cleaned up,
new job, going to school,
further than I ever expected to be myself.
But here we are again.
Same place, same tricks.
You're supposed to turn 19 next week.
I want to say I love you but I'm scared to delve that deep.
I want to say I love you, but I'm already a mess.
I want to say I love you but I can't lose somebody else,
I can't go to another funeral.
I've never been to a funeral for someone over 18,
please, don't make that change,
don't make the number raise.
Smoky blue eyes, can you see past the fog?
Haley, why won't you stay?
I promise, it fades.
I'm not strong enough for both of us,
give me a little leeway,
try,
stop pushing me away.
Haley, please,
Tomorrow's a new day.
July is unbearably hot in Wisconsin.
Lose yourself in the sun's rays.
Not the *****
Not the pills.
How do I reach out to you?
I can't stop the fear.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Brandon Bless you brother for your Holy Spirit filled poems.
Bless you Elsa , for your heart and God is using your poems.
Bless you Just Melz, Marion,Nicole,Dark and beautiful too.
Wolf Spirit,DC Raw,Ignatinus, David, Timothy, Joshua..
Joe Kevin, Gary L, Traveler, Mike Hauser, Anto MacRuaridh.
Soulsurvivoe, weeping willow,Hilda.Emma, MargotDylan.
I want to name each and everyone of you that I follow/
Beth St Claire, Nicole, Elizabeth Squire,Mark Cleavenger.
Forgotten Heart, Haley Madison, Eudora, Ann M Johnson.n
Vanessa Gatley, Beryl Dov, Mercie B, Paul Butters, Emma.
Nateive Son,Dopperganger, Cecil Miller,My cup overrunth.
Sweetpea, Frank Ruland, olestory teller, Ridicule, Tivonna.
Carolin, Anu, Nicole Dawn. plus so many more inspires me.
Please forgive me if you are not on here I love you all.
Everyone of you inspires me , I see your courage and your love.
May Christ always bless you all abundantly with his blessings.
I see the courage in all of you whom have my life here on HP.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
It's nights like these
that make me wish my hands were bigger.
These life-lines aren't long enough
to recite all these lines of life
that'll be running through my mind
even after time stops.
There aren't enough trees to cut down
for all the pages I need to pen these
soliloquies and sonnets.
No, I didn't ride in
on Haley's Comet
but the plan is to still go out in a blaze of glory.
And why do my friends
seem to only hear "Blaze" in that?
Hallucinogenics and Narcotics
Psychedelics and Hydroponics
These are our four fathers.
Oh but by all means
"Try the tonic"
Watch the ***** infect your seeds'
Pipe dreams!!
And so they gleam
sipping moonshine
And whisper shadows of yesterday
Onto memories of tomorrow
While you try and find the rhyme.
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 6:17 PM UTC
The razor blade in the cabinet gets thrown out,
it never gets the opportunity to learn deep.
I tell him to drive me home before I become too tired to care.
I save myself for someone who does.
Haley doesn't move away,
we finish high school the way we plan.
The dealer who sells death is gone the day he calls to ask for some,
when they find him,
it isn't too late.
She doesn't walk out of the party when she does,
the bullet misses her by a few minutes.
I am sweeter to my love when it exists,
I pull him around my waist as the music plays and
we drive home that night happy
I laugh at our fights and am the first to surrender always
I don't let stubborn win
I don't let it end in a single phone call
I try a little harder.
The cancer is discovered earlier or
It never comes at all.
When he takes without asking,
I take back what's mine
I don't let him leave me silent,
without fight,
I take the lit cigarette he borrows from me,
burn a gap into the center of his palm and say,
"This is what you asked for, isn't it?"
I bury my unused pepper spray in the backyard.
Nobody tells me,
"You should have been more careful."
After spilling my story,
I don't respond to the thank you for sharing
I ignore it and never have to hear his later excuse for disinterest.
I take the temporary out of his heart and give it back to him.
I stop communication the minute he says,
"I'm still with her."
I go back to the tattoo shop and cover up the words before they start to sync with memory.
When he calls me beautiful,
I call him on his ********
I leave before he can form a response.
I don't invite him back on lonely nights.
I actually hear him say sorry.
When he asks to comeover, I say I'm busy.
I don't give him the chance to know how it feels to kiss me.
I don't answer when he wonders how I'm doing.
I don't wonder how he is.
I apologize for my mistakes with genuine sincerity.
I stop breaking already intact things.
I tie every loose end before leaving
I move away content.
I am happy.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
Neptune
Eyed baby
I'll admit I'm
Light-years past crazy
I'd give
The Galaxy
For you
Juniper
Burned Haley's
Comet as it
Lit up our daily
Blues
Set in our awkward shoes
Mind-tight dreaming
Garnished with gleaming
Silence kept screaming
In hope for the breaking word
Spark-wet
Drenched breaths
Under the tree
That murdered death
I'd make
The sun burn
For you
Grass-stained
Sky-dressed
You leave me to
My obsession's mess-y
Blues
Set in our awkward shoes
Mind tight dreaming
Garnished with gleaming
Silence kept screaming
In hope for the breaking word
Violent heart rate
In nerve-wrecked state
Tempting all fates
To go back on their word
And I say
Goodbye, Cornea,
Goodbye
And I say
I love you, Cornea
Goodnight
And I say
Goodbye, Alice,
Goodbye
And I say
I love you, Alice
Goodnight
Mind-tight dreaming
Garnished with gleaming
Silence kept screaming
In hope for the breaking word
Violent heart rate
In nerve-wrecked state
Tempting all fates
To go back on their word
Neptune
Eyed baby
I'll admit I'm
Light-years past crazy
For you
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 1:24 PM UTC
We will leave you in the midst
of a poetic truce, as you spill
experiences into our open palms.
Writing to make sense of what
has happened, nestling your
deepest secrets in our fingertips.
Our roots so deep in our poetry,
if you tried to unearth us, we would
shriek louder than banshee's.
Unravel our words, enter the
labyrinth of our minds, there are
sunsets in our stomachs, and
December runs through our veins.
We are the stars to your blank skies,
the pause between each ragged breath,
the tragedy suffocating the air.
We are the pause before the applause.
We are rarity's like Haley's comet
making you scramble for a telescope.
Only crows writhing with broken
necks are more twisted than the life
stories resting under our tongues.
We are poets, engraved in history,
fluent in all that is artistic and worldly.
Poetry a warm blanket we remain
hidden in on a cold winter morning.
Reality is a cold floor that our
bare feet are too scared to touch.
By JannaLee Perry and Rapunzel
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
Dedicated to Bobby Trice, Willem Cole Traupel, and Haley Ristow
Spilled sodas
and spilled hearts.
Smoked cigarettes
and smoked days.
The snow has ceased falling, and my mood has continued climbing.
What used to be a dark shade of orange, an orange haze,
is now a light, gentle shade of white.
Crisp and clear.
And as I shoveled the drive way,
I thought of the less than extraordinary Sunday
and how extraordinary it was.
And as I looked into my cigarette pack, finding it empty,
I remembered a quote the director of our school play had said
"Do not cry because it's over, smile because it happened"
And I guess it's silly to think of a pack of Organic American Spirits in the same shade of white that others think of a school play.
Maybe it's not so much the cigarettes but the people I shared them with.
The people I love.
My bestfriends.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC