"homepage" poems
#*Hello, HP Fashion Designers
The latest
Where I find
Brand new designs
New fashions
Styles
Colour of the soul and rhymes
Amazing lines
The Homepage
The
Classics
Vintages
All Renowned
Designs
Evergreen styles
One is sure to find
The Front page
The designs that make trends
Latest
Classic
Vintage
Could be any
Liked and Loved
No ends
Followed by many
All In Vogue
Perfect designs
The HP Trends
Love all styles
Trends or not
Certainly, check them all
The HP designs
Creativity a zest
At its best
Never put it to rest*
Happy World Poetry Day#
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
~
*Salvation comes with a price--
Pried open doors,
choir songs of fingerdust
resurrecting goldrush,
and a pretty little
cromulent called whitewash.
New century martyrs
have risen up to burn books,
and quotes,
and tongues,
and every contrariwise thought,
--is this intuition or inquisition?
What ascends is trapped within
tenebrific clouds,
returning to barren ground
when it rains unholy prayers.
They don't crusade for you or me.
They contest for dominion and mastery.
Those who believe are mooncalf.
This torchlight of intolerance
sends out skyrockets,
and away it goes!
trending on your homepage:
Past generations
burning at the stake,
at the hands of sinners clothed as saints,
in cathedral oblivion,
dismembering their future
in the blood of their own children.
Amen?*
~
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 10:18 AM UTC
Germany is known for fine craftsmanship
Proven by BMW and Natascha's poetry
Germany is known for dark rich beer
Proven with every smooth swallow
Germany is known to me as the home of a friend
Proven by the address on Natascha's homepage
Drive fast, toast a friend, and write brilliant poetry
That is Germany to me
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
We are the disconnect community.
We think, therefore we are.
We blink, therefor we see the
ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED.
A personal "connection-collection" of mine.
500 pieces of redefining human identity as bees in a hive.
Buzzing. Whirring. Chatting.
A world can be displayed on a single screen
of ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED.
All tuned in.
*All turning into hive minded creatures.
Degeneration at it's best.
For the most advanced generation,
We are zombies disguised as cyborgs;
carrying our hearts literally out on our sleeves.
For home, I'm told, is where the heart is.
And though books say it's in our chests,
One look and tell you "Homepage" is handheld.
And with the world in the palm of your hand,
the rest comes fast, calm and easy.
Like breathing,
But without feeling.
Invisible networks bond the inner workings
Like an ultra-cranium.
Or a hive, dangling precariously over the valley.
Lives, carelessly unaware that a bow can break
when it forgets it's roots.
Like jumping in puddles in rubber boots.
The difference between what's easy and what's simple.
The little girl on Youtube who can't flip a page of a magaizine because all she know's are HD touch screens.
Learning to type before learning to write.
Obesity, skyrocketing to a sun we barely lay eyes on.
One by one, we stop hooking up, and get hooked up to the trending crazes.
Hang up. Telenophobics praised.
E-mail and texts.
Social skills wrecked.
Eye contact replaced with descontent looks.
Pirating crooks
Torenting video games, DVDs &books.;
The 25th of December is more for toys than the son of God.
You can't remember the last time you went fishing with your dad, because you've been too busy playing C.O.D.
Unplugged is savagery.
but escapism with a drug by any name is just as inhumane.
Just as fatal.
For all the blinking,
and thinking,
chattering,
babbling
500 redefined "friends",
Can you easily feel alive when it's more simple to call us dead?
Do you know all your neighbors names without checking online?
Can you understand relationships, as they were meant to be?*
We are the disconnect community.
Cut out "unity".
Leave the rest for our virtual home page address.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 2:36 AM UTC
Passion fruit. Banana ***** papaya dreams so nice and juicy.
Papa's up. The game is down, these other kings just ain't around.
Bang, Bang, Who's Up?! Bang, Bang, Who's Down?!
These other authors they hit the ground.
I don't mean to fright, I don't mean to leave
I just got this thing that drives me.
I don't need to fight, but it feels, so, soo, good.
But all the po' lease think that it's my neighborhood.
Ooh girl I like ya'
C'mon over I like ya'
Ooh girl I like ya'
C'mon over I'll bite ya'
I know you's a freak, so bring a friend
I got rubber sheets, so I can break you in
Some other girls, think go around
But the truth is I just go downtown
The Rick Owens Store is like my homepage
If you ain't Facebook than you ain't gettin' laid
Obscur is fresh, Henrik's a boss, but I have to say
Trentemoeller really Lost. I liked Last Resort, even
Harbour Trips, but lately he's been on some ****** up ****
My parents want me to go get a Jay Oh Bee
But I'm too busy, sleeping.
My baby's face is porcelain, but I can't afford it
So I said it looked aluminum.
Dem people not, be steppin' on my toes
Cause' I'll show up reppin' Sheridan Rd. with my Colt '44.
Ooh girl I like ya
C'mon over ya ripe now
Ooh girl I like ya
C'mon over I'll bite ya
Your black garters' hot, so is yo' lace bikini
When it comes to lingerie, I play it like Houdini
Whether it's Agent Provocateur or Victoria's Secret
I hold my *** until I can put it in your ****
Relationship is such a ***** word
But when it comes to ***** I like 4-letter verbs
You can bring..um..whatever you want
But if you gotta **** **** ***** I'm out.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
I used to Tumble my feelings away until you found my blog. My feelings are backlogged because you've got my URL on your homepage shortcuts next to Google and Pornhub.
I relish the days I used to subtweet you from the club. How I used to let
the bass drown out my thoughts as the beat dropped faster than my faith in you. In us.
I wish I could Insta this moment without worrying you'd see me with him. You ******* stalker get a life. Why are you holding on so tight? Quit covertly favoriting my pics, tweets and reblogs. I'm over it.
Status Update: I'm done with you. You can unfollow, delete and block me now because the only thing you're holding onto is the illusion of closeness. Outside this digital world I'm not a follower, a friend or a subscriber.
I'm the last good thing you had.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC
Stare at your father,
At the cornered sweat
Zigzagging between the Grey hair
Left on the borders of his skull;
At the spit
Exiting from the white bars
That once kept his words unsaid.
Stare at him,
While he repeats the same sentence
Over and over and over
Until the words curve spaces
At the back of your ears,
Till all you can hear is
“Keep your dreams in the depth of your pockets,
Dreams can float once your pockets are full”.
But my dreams are like plants
They need light to grow,
And my pocket is not exactly
The place I was thinking about.
Stare at your Facebook homepage;
The girls left an imprint.
The imprints were coded
And the codes became a covenant
Of which-
You gave yourself;
And every time before you go to sleep
You repeat the same sentence
“She is not the one.
You love her because she is an image in your head,
She is not the one.
The one reads books
And books have been written about her,
The one plays the right music,
The one creates scenarios in her head
And asks you to act them with he;r
The one loves you back
The one loves you back.”
Stare at the circles you’ve been forming;
The words you’ve said
That you now take back-
Pull strings on your intestines
Till your up chuck reflex
Kicks in and you start
Jotting them on paper;
Who knows?
Maybe one day you’ll even write a poem.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
homepage flooded
with poetry written
on topics such as
***suicide,
hate,
harm,
loss,
pain
&
death;***
we like it
and scroll down
we repost it
keep scrolling
we add it to our collection
and just like that
moments later
*words forgotten
moved on*
"next poem, please"
as if the poem
existed without
a person in pain
backing it up
as if behind the words
there was no soul
cracking at the seams
as if the poem itself
held more significance
than the (wo)man behind the pen
the least we could do
is acknowledge the existence
of the broken poet
behind the beautifully saddening poem
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
random poem button
give me something to read with a pulse
dead words from dead people are nice
but too easy and i've read them all before
serve me up a pumping heart
full of feelings or remorse
words with a pulse
something new, something now, ridged or coarse
something fresh that i can sink into
with teeth and eyes that dine and ask for more
random poem button
please hear me write
if i get another poem written
before this last century
then believe you me
i'll just go back to my homepage browsing manually
and never again use
your oh so special feature
instead i'll stay content
to myself, just randomly people search
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 5:27 AM UTC
I feel like a homebody,
I feel homesick, and my home is your body,
I can't find my way through your cracks, only feel alive when I feel scratches on my back, stuck in an empty lover's bed sheets, only feel lonely when I'm not laying next to a warm body, mind muddy, cloudy hellish sense of relevance only when I'm being kissed on the neck, now tell me, where can I find any ******* sense
In my head everywhere in every bed I lay in, I'm a misfit, just wanna be missed,
Happiness is fake and love is like the internet
Click, click, error 404, cannot find page, deep breath, refresh, error 404,
4:04pm, alone again, thinking about skipping dinner to think about you again,
4:04am, alone again, thinking about skipping sleep to watch the sunrise because heaven knows it's the only warmth this body still knows how to feel,
4:04 someone, somewhere,
404 empty bottles,
404 long car rides lighting up the highway with either a lighter or headlights,
I gotta ****** go,
I gotta run away as far as possible,
I don't know what I'm running from, but I'm running still
I have grown to actively avoid absolutely everything,
Don't look at me,
Don't talk to me,
The only words I know how to listen to are **** and hate,
I've given away everything, even the smile on my face,
Gifted pieces of my heart with ribbons and flowers and tried to cover the holes with duct tape,
I've tried everything besides personal space because I'm scared of being alone for too long and I don't wanna look at myself in the face
I feel homesick, and my home is your body,
I don't wanna do this anymore, I don't wanna do this anymore,
You're not my home anymore,
But I don't know how to run away from you
Click, click, error 404, cannot find page,
Deep breath, refresh, error, ****
My homepage is always frozen
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
As I was born under a New Moon; I am always given pause by a mad flush of stars, deserted in abundance, piercing the ruby throated dusk; uncollided, a blush of dead fizz still very much alive...And I would touch it... ~ touch it
damning rainbows to neglect and torrential rains
basking in sunshine ~
but not mine...I am pondering heaven now
and how
it fits in your palm.
How everywhere a shadow walks, the stars shine
right behind it.
and no one finds a single flaw.
i am the alchemy of distilled spirits.Spirits abducted by Ruin-
that has such beauty,
your weeping would reveal, the very name of the villain.
And exactly how you got this number
in the first place.
Again, that was then... and This is how we love each other in a black room with our mouths sewn shut; typing riddles in plain English that fall upon an Eye's Ear... an alien braille of goosebumps in a vacuum at my fingertips, tapping keys that build doors Between
that lead to this very place.
The keys had to come from some where, ?
but we're not thinking about that
right now.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 1:25 PM UTC
Written poems after poems
Published a book and sold poetry
A Poetry homepage read by many
Writing and sharing in Hello Poetry
Darling,
I just wish for a second you would
turn the cover of my book and read
come to my homepage and see who reads
check Hello Poetry and look who's sharing what
my wish before i fall to sleep
and rest my pen
if i do not wake up again
to breathe another poetry
I wish... I just wish
that you would read our daughter's poetry
and forgive me
for teaching her what i love best
the art of writing.....
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:19 PM UTC
screwdriving, screwdripping in bed
with my sister in the New light, up
in the
morning; John climbs up the tree to
the angel of Bettie Einstein, to the
wedding who is of Adultery, salt and eggs,
Eve, the people of Pesslnus want to meet
you within the walls of sleep; Greek
and Latin,
with guns, are under The Wheat Time
that remains as in the painting of the waves
he begins to make it serve as a means
of securing the treatment; But the species
of love dominated the second licensing
board; football at the foundation of it,
it is still in the wilderness, a lying language
of music; Maecenas, who is rich
and has
a richly fragrant aroma for a guy,
Glory to the media center to know
the User Accounts homepage;
The blond working in paradise
has six toes
on each foot and a solid foundation
to stand on; The women call it hollow
burning pillows, Fools empty graves
of artifacts,
ych; The message of the offering |
is in place of a single common effort;
He gave a long decline, and clasps
his daughter, who kisses his hand before
the ṣaṣewe; And the image is of the dark
shadow of evil, the wind, it is the wind
of love,
the pain bitter
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC
I'm sorry for not being here
My dear and faithful friends
I'm trying to make time
Do you have some you could lend?
Just address it to my homepage
An attachment you can send
I will use it wisely... I WILL READ!
The End
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
Let me inject you with a metaphor
An euphemism of my life
The reality of the real world
I spew profanity
I smoke
I drink
I ****
I am such a bad person that people think I'm joking, because no one can be so cruel right? And that's the only reason I have friends
I think about heaven every now and then
But hell is like a brewery in my stomach
I ***** negativity
And allow my demon to control my thoughts
She is my only stability, my only sanity
My walk is the footsteps you hear in a horror movie
My legs are pin needles stuck out to pierce the side of everyone who gets close to me
My arms give guidance to the slaying of wrists and popping of pills
My heartbeat is the crack of a woman's rib in a broken home
My chest is the homepage of insecurity and doubt
My lips are the poison kiss of loneliness
My tongue tastes darkness covered in sparkling lies
My eyes are the pathway to her
I am her slave and I will do anything she asks of me
So please don't look into me Because she is constantly waiting for her next victim
Don't try to save me
You have no idea as to who I am
Hi
I'm Basbee
I have trapped a demon inside of me
She is cold and lonely
She's mean, rude and quite frankly a *****
Basically she's like me
Except she torments me from the inside
She has officially burnt a hole in my heart And all that's left is barely pumping blood
I am deoxygenated Because she keeps stealing every breath of fresh air I inhale
She has me mentally and emotionally ****** up So the only good part I had left was my physicality And she had to **** that up too
I have these scars More like tattoos, to remind me that I am mortal and one day I will leave this body and She will be free
I bet you're asking by now "Why don't you let her go?"
I can't
She is a part of me
And without her I would fall apart Because right now She's the reason I'm trying to paint a picture of myself To remember who I was when I was young
Because right now She's the reason that I believe in a God
I am a dark twisted fairytale
And I know how my story ends
She will eventually break out of the haunted prison she lives in And leave me warden to my own shadow
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
HOMEPAGE
( for Onelia )
Death is addicted
to Facebook.
Always on line
(likes to work from home)
leaving her all
too theatrical costume
behind
her.
Bones...black cloaks & scythes
is now just too passé.
Death simply adds you
to her new friend’s list
& always
... accepts requests.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
Well ****
I wrote something.
Something long and great about who inspires me
The people who have encouraged me through this life time
And I asked. . . . at the end of what I wrote
Who inspires you?
Now I'm not much of a religious person,
but I know a sign when I see one.
I went to add the (Poem)
And somehow pressed something that sent me back to my homepage
Imagine that.
I was so ****** because It was so long and I hadn't written it down
So I didn't bother trying to write it again because obviously HP didn't want me to
I'm laughing just thinking about that.
Life finds little ways to ***** you over
Or to let know when you're being stupid.
Maybe both.
Whether or not you decide to take notice is your choice
But anyways
I just wanted you to know it was a great poem
Well I thought so(not)
Maybe send a little prayer to heaven about it later.
(Im just kidding)
Seriously,
Those who can find happiness In the darkest times
People who can fall to hell and then climb back, are inspiring to me.
They're stronger then most and an inspiration to many.
What about you?
Who do you find inspiring?
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
When I decide to "tag" something I've written,
I go to the homepage and just copy what's trendy.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
Anyone else notice?
I'm hoping it's a phase
None of my favorite poets
Are showing up on my homepage
Aug 29, 2021
Aug 29, 2021 at 1:40 PM UTC
I write so many poems
every single day
in such a flurry of emotion
I have to use all my strength
to restrain myself
from posting them all at once
posting them as I feel them
one after another
clogging up your homepage
so you feel as clogged up
as I do
in my heart.
but it's good I don't,
for even though those poems
were produced
in a moment's emotion..
that emotion never truly fades,
and carries on forever.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
Hello poetry site
Diminishing its light
Brilliant its soul
When it is cold outside
Keeps the thoughts warm
In drafts or posts
To write and read a post
A task, too many times
With diminishing light
What will it take
To light up the site
With a brilliant soul
Methods I keep trying
Safe it works, sometimes fail
Frail the sever, it trails
Through Logins and logouts
And errors found
In history I keep
The latest and trending posts
The homepage sits empty
Many a times
What will it take to light up the site
Hello poetry site
Faint its heart
Breathing slow
What will it take to light up the site
With a brilliant soul
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 1:22 PM UTC
i don't have much to talk about
i thought i would just write
knowing that never really turns out right
just not thinking
i don't even know if i'm really making words
i thought i would just type
i could talk about how stupid i am around my friends
but how serious i am in my mind
but i'm just writing random words
and i really don't have the time
i could talk about how little poems
about nothing
end up on the homepage
and my serious ones are left in the dust
and then i wrote one
and it was really fun
but my friend told me it was dumb
but i don't take it seriously
even though i blocked her for two short minutes
she didn't even know
but then i thought to myself
that's not where i want to go
and thought my life lacks years
i know the world around me
i know of two
what isn't spoken
and the reality
and that's me
i look at a happy person
and see their broken heart
they don't even speak to me
they probably wouldn't know where to start
and though freestyle isn't really my thing
you don't even know how much joy it brings
except for the spell check
it can be unbarring
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC