"mids" poems - Hello Poetry

I watched her write Love on her arms it flowed like lava as the meaning was felt ripples of hardened flesh with hot plasma and her cooling kiss scratch that one off the bucket list (codetta) To tattoo love on my lids finding you between the highs and mids when the lights go off you are there then you reappear in the strobe and LED atmosphere All I can do is wish... you were here too unravel the shutters of my soul (segno) to embrace you in a place more real animate my memories to simulate surreal stimulate thoughts my body can not feel till my lids reopen to reveal a deck used to project a black massif sunset platters pressed with disco tech soluvum's spun to some rung of heaven I's reflect; eyes ***** to mirror mystery celadon mandela murals and memory a nebula of history (fine) When eyes see you come (:l) Below the surface afraid you'll run yet steady marching to a heart shaped drum echoing the song of the lord god capon we've gone deaf to the celebration Eyes close when kissing to lock in what's missing maybe to hear the rush of blood hissing maybe to capture the sound of oceans shifting maybe to feel the steady rise of hills below our feat maybe that's why we hum synchronizing our meditation Maybe to become one symbols like wedding bell vibration (dc al fine)

0

Apr 5, 2016

Apr 5, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC

TheSethnicity

Wedding Bell Vibration

I watched her write Love on her arms it flowed like lava as the meaning was felt ripples of hardened flesh with hot plasma and her cooling kiss scratch that one off the bucket list (codetta) To tattoo love on my lids finding you between the highs and mids when the lights go off you are there then you reappear in the strobe and LED atmosphere All I can do is wish... you were here too unravel the shutters of my soul (segno) to embrace you in a place more real animate my memories to simulate surreal stimulate thoughts my body can not feel till my lids reopen to reveal a deck used to project a black massif sunset platters pressed with disco tech soluvum's spun to some rung of heaven I's reflect; eyes ***** to mirror mystery celadon mandela murals and memory a nebula of history (fine) When eyes see you come (:l) Below the surface afraid you'll run yet steady marching to a heart shaped drum echoing the song of the lord god capon we've gone deaf to the celebration Eyes close when kissing to lock in what's missing maybe to hear the rush of blood hissing maybe to capture the sound of oceans shifting maybe to feel the steady rise of hills below our feat maybe that's why we hum synchronizing our meditation Maybe to become one symbols like wedding bell vibration (dc al fine)

35

**** you and your dear old trains, hard seats and beat staff selling rip-off chaff on chariots of mass profits. The **** merchant gazes through dead eyes and scratched plastic as he charges up my **** with an astronomical figure. A smile on his bosses face as he races into his office with more bloated profits is all he can think of as he sinks my high hopes into an oblivion of rage. **** off" I tell him as he flashes his price, 'that's twice what I've already paid', but "mind your language" is all he says as if that's worse than ****** a man half your age. He can't use his brain independently from the movement of his masters strings, he must watch the news as if he's staring at his personal kings - what a ***** All I can do now is accept my fate of a few boring dates with the telephone and my mates at East Mids Trains, but that's in the future and the **** merchant's in the past, now I speed towards memories I hope will far outlast that **** behind the plastic and the ***** to whom his thoughts are cast. Bring on The Big Smoke.

0

Jan 30, 2011

Jan 30, 2011 at 4:05 PM UTC

michael-oconnell

Broke, Freightened Rage

**** you and your dear old trains, hard seats and beat staff selling rip-off chaff on chariots of mass profits. The **** merchant gazes through dead eyes and scratched plastic as he charges up my **** with an astronomical figure. A smile on his bosses face as he races into his office with more bloated profits is all he can think of as he sinks my high hopes into an oblivion of rage. **** off" I tell him as he flashes his price, 'that's twice what I've already paid', but "mind your language" is all he says as if that's worse than ****** a man half your age. He can't use his brain independently from the movement of his masters strings, he must watch the news as if he's staring at his personal kings - what a ***** All I can do now is accept my fate of a few boring dates with the telephone and my mates at East Mids Trains, but that's in the future and the **** merchant's in the past, now I speed towards memories I hope will far outlast that **** behind the plastic and the ***** to whom his thoughts are cast. Bring on The Big Smoke.

30

We were once mountains Standing tall, standing proud. Mountains of great girth and of great pride. We were once, the top of this world. Landmarks, conquest, tourist attractions. We were once as tall as the clouds. And where safety , for the Eagles home. We were once. We were once, great boulders of strength and of size. We were once great boulders hanging on for life. We were once in the mids of this world. Added beauty and charm to the mountains side. Became steps to help others achieve their goals, became hidding spots for smaller animals to hid from their prey. We were once great boulders. Relatable, reachable and visable. We were once. We were once rocks, that have fallen from the highest of peaks. Rocks that have been broken, slammed, stepped on to help you achieve. Rocks that made up the lower grounds of a stream. Planted, stacked and buried As a bridge for your feet, To keep you dry. We were once rocks. Used as a grip for your boots, to keep you safe. As a path to guide you, to all that you achieve. As caverns for the minnow and his family. As a safe haven from the piranha. We were once. We were once dust The wearing, the fragile truth. Looked upon as not a thing. We were once. We are once. Once We are all dust. Once, We are all the beginning. Once, We are all, the foundation. Once, We can see, we are all needed Once, We can hear, we are all our own strength. Once we accept, all for who they are, all of what we can be. Once, We see truth and strength In unity. All is just as import to building a powerful mountain. Once, All this, Then, this rocks dust can rebuild His majestics mountain of strength.

0

Dec 29, 2014

Dec 29, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC

garyb

Strengthening a deteriorating civilization

We were once mountains Standing tall, standing proud. Mountains of great girth and of great pride. We were once, the top of this world. Landmarks, conquest, tourist attractions. We were once as tall as the clouds. And where safety , for the Eagles home. We were once. We were once, great boulders of strength and of size. We were once great boulders hanging on for life. We were once in the mids of this world. Added beauty and charm to the mountains side. Became steps to help others achieve their goals, became hidding spots for smaller animals to hid from their prey. We were once great boulders. Relatable, reachable and visable. We were once. We were once rocks, that have fallen from the highest of peaks. Rocks that have been broken, slammed, stepped on to help you achieve. Rocks that made up the lower grounds of a stream. Planted, stacked and buried As a bridge for your feet, To keep you dry. We were once rocks. Used as a grip for your boots, to keep you safe. As a path to guide you, to all that you achieve. As caverns for the minnow and his family. As a safe haven from the piranha. We were once. We were once dust The wearing, the fragile truth. Looked upon as not a thing. We were once. We are once. Once We are all dust. Once, We are all the beginning. Once, We are all, the foundation. Once, We can see, we are all needed Once, We can hear, we are all our own strength. Once we accept, all for who they are, all of what we can be. Once, We see truth and strength In unity. All is just as import to building a powerful mountain. Once, All this, Then, this rocks dust can rebuild His majestics mountain of strength.

53

wow, this music is loud.. or is it quiet? i feel it in my fingertips, are my senses just intense? wow, this **** is loud.. or is it mids? is my ****** tolerance low? am i high? yeah, ok. i may not be much of a poet, but i'm a great **** lover, or am i? let me show you. then you can tell me how it feels, to be loved by somebody.

0

Dec 23, 2014

Dec 23, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC

kylie-formella

high vol. 2

wow, this music is loud.. or is it quiet? i feel it in my fingertips, are my senses just intense? wow, this **** is loud.. or is it mids? is my ****** tolerance low? am i high? yeah, ok. i may not be much of a poet, but i'm a great **** lover, or am i? let me show you. then you can tell me how it feels, to be loved by somebody.

11

The record skips at the same point each time, Broken, it spins and no noi- Noise, static from the speaker that is my heart, My life seems to be in sha- Shambles, when it plays, the sound, melodic, Each note speaks to my very so- Soul, announcing itself to the world for all to hear, And yet my life seems incom- Incomplete, without that sound of the treble, The sound alongside the und- Underlying bass, that is defined by emotion, The mids make up the wo- Words that harmonize the two together, But while this record sk- Skips, they will never play in sync, The sound of the nee- Needle jumping reminds me of the present, And how things will ne- Never be as good as they once were, For the record will never re- Reach its end, until then there is nothi-

0

Sep 3, 2013

Sep 3, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC

toro

Broken Record

The record skips at the same point each time, Broken, it spins and no noi- Noise, static from the speaker that is my heart, My life seems to be in sha- Shambles, when it plays, the sound, melodic, Each note speaks to my very so- Soul, announcing itself to the world for all to hear, And yet my life seems incom- Incomplete, without that sound of the treble, The sound alongside the und- Underlying bass, that is defined by emotion, The mids make up the wo- Words that harmonize the two together, But while this record sk- Skips, they will never play in sync, The sound of the nee- Needle jumping reminds me of the present, And how things will ne- Never be as good as they once were, For the record will never re- Reach its end, until then there is nothi-

21

It was the sunniest of days, in the mids of July. The year I don't recall. I was a boy then, doing some chores to make extra money. I was good at yard work. Raking, cleaning twigs, cutting down trees etc. I learned how to keep a clean yard from my grandfather, (my papa)he believed in hard work and in being a honest man. He was raised on a farm and worked from sunrise to well past the darkened hour. "A little hard work won't **** ya" was his motto, I sought-after. The sun was beating hot, without the shield of a single cloud. I took all I could, until I just needed to escape the sun, for just a minute. I ducked off into the near bye woods, where I knew all the trees would protect me. Their branches and leaves all intertwined, created a umbrella that would go on for miles. I found a moss covered rock bigger then me, in a dark damp spot of this forest. Laying my head down, I stared up at all the tree leafs, watching with anticipation for one to fall. I still remember the smell and feel of those woods. The smell of serenity and the feel of unjudging thoughts. "This is how I want to spend my life" I clearly remember saying out loud (to myself.) The woods were dark and cool. Yet calming and real to me. I frequented those woods for days on, through my childhood years up through my teenage years. Something had changed me that one summer day in July. Something had shown me a new light, a much more simple way of life and our expectations. It was calming, nurturing and protective. It was me, it was my soul, showing me how to be like you papa. My soul showing me how peaceful life is when we are at peace with ourselves. How everything we do, no matter how trivial at the time, really matters. Like all those times papa and I sat around a fire burning the days tree limbs and debri. Thinking it was just fun, when in reality, it was the best lesson I have ever learned. The end.

0

Dec 22, 2014

Dec 22, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC

garyb

The man within me (ode to my papa)

It was the sunniest of days, in the mids of July. The year I don't recall. I was a boy then, doing some chores to make extra money. I was good at yard work. Raking, cleaning twigs, cutting down trees etc. I learned how to keep a clean yard from my grandfather, (my papa)he believed in hard work and in being a honest man. He was raised on a farm and worked from sunrise to well past the darkened hour. "A little hard work won't **** ya" was his motto, I sought-after. The sun was beating hot, without the shield of a single cloud. I took all I could, until I just needed to escape the sun, for just a minute. I ducked off into the near bye woods, where I knew all the trees would protect me. Their branches and leaves all intertwined, created a umbrella that would go on for miles. I found a moss covered rock bigger then me, in a dark damp spot of this forest. Laying my head down, I stared up at all the tree leafs, watching with anticipation for one to fall. I still remember the smell and feel of those woods. The smell of serenity and the feel of unjudging thoughts. "This is how I want to spend my life" I clearly remember saying out loud (to myself.) The woods were dark and cool. Yet calming and real to me. I frequented those woods for days on, through my childhood years up through my teenage years. Something had changed me that one summer day in July. Something had shown me a new light, a much more simple way of life and our expectations. It was calming, nurturing and protective. It was me, it was my soul, showing me how to be like you papa. My soul showing me how peaceful life is when we are at peace with ourselves. How everything we do, no matter how trivial at the time, really matters. Like all those times papa and I sat around a fire burning the days tree limbs and debri. Thinking it was just fun, when in reality, it was the best lesson I have ever learned. The end.

2

The Shok-tod waddled down, the avenues of despair Holding out his corro-pod, for everyone was there As chem-adids rolled out, and gasped, full of dismay Wailing at the alcha-mids, in rank and full display ****** if done or not, no recourse for the dead It's not like he didn't try, no lack of words he'd said The desi-mods and few-perod, had nothing to compare So they gis-relfed their bolog-wed, and quipped, of C'est La Guerre

0

Oct 19, 2016

Oct 19, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC

TemporalFugue

That's War, for the Shoktod

The Shok-tod waddled down, the avenues of despair Holding out his corro-pod, for everyone was there As chem-adids rolled out, and gasped, full of dismay Wailing at the alcha-mids, in rank and full display ****** if done or not, no recourse for the dead It's not like he didn't try, no lack of words he'd said The desi-mods and few-perod, had nothing to compare So they gis-relfed their bolog-wed, and quipped, of C'est La Guerre

8

Rhythms and rhymes descriptions and desires All embrace and entwined in Rhytmic motions celebrating creation Waiting When words become inadequate and time Stood still it could still not be the end Of my love for you I’ll wait for you on top of the mountain I’ll wait for you in the mids of the storm I’ll Wait for you till all days are full Maybe then you’ll know what I see in you Every moment that I wait for you makes me appreciate you More every moment I wait for you makes me value you more Every moment that I am away from you causes my love To mature, Waiting for drains all my strength Waiting for you dazels my mind could you show up in time. That we could be together forever for all to see Waiting for you Will it last a love that’s made in heaven Only when I could be with you we’ll see

0

Jul 7, 2017

Jul 7, 2017 at 5:14 AM UTC

jean-pierre

words

Rhythms and rhymes descriptions and desires All embrace and entwined in Rhytmic motions celebrating creation Waiting When words become inadequate and time Stood still it could still not be the end Of my love for you I’ll wait for you on top of the mountain I’ll wait for you in the mids of the storm I’ll Wait for you till all days are full Maybe then you’ll know what I see in you Every moment that I wait for you makes me appreciate you More every moment I wait for you makes me value you more Every moment that I am away from you causes my love To mature, Waiting for drains all my strength Waiting for you dazels my mind could you show up in time. That we could be together forever for all to see Waiting for you Will it last a love that’s made in heaven Only when I could be with you we’ll see

23

in our mids 20’s it’s okay to fail stand up and try again this time learn from your mistakes it’s okay not to rush things up we can go slow and steady look how far we already achieve we’re all doing the best that we can we can do it, just hold on we’ll get there!

0

Mar 30, 2024

Mar 30, 2024 at 12:52 PM UTC

nicolycious

**life**

in our mids 20’s it’s okay to fail stand up and try again this time learn from your mistakes it’s okay not to rush things up we can go slow and steady look how far we already achieve we’re all doing the best that we can we can do it, just hold on we’ll get there!

10

Words like dagger I got Melt me if I don't care in winter mids In the mids of summer beauty You failed to Smile to the sun

0

Aug 25, 2014

Aug 25, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC

agum-benjamin-malek

Untitled

Words like dagger I got Melt me if I don't care in winter mids In the mids of summer beauty You failed to Smile to the sun

4

What do I do, If she makes my brain coo, If her singing calms me, Breaking through my ADHD, Her beauty is a sight to see, Her personality is my heart's key, I may be only 12, But into her heart I wish to delve, And make her feel like a goddess, About her I can't be modest, I friendzoned myself...I thought I would fail so I texted can we be friends... she said you don't have to be sorry for liking me. Do I try again, With all these cooler kids, The decision is in mids', I could say I love her, There is no girl above her, Her sweet voice is a lure, And I am the weird fish, With her as my wish, She doesn't judge me, My heart slows when she will nudge me, She makes my life have a drive, And I will compliment her if I am alive, Her name is cyrille, I need her for real, Hug me if you will, I will only go still, How I now feel, Is I need to know, Will she just be a bro, I'll be "Ok" if she says no, But her eyes, They don't tell me lies, They are true happy in disguise, I would tie her shoe ties, She represents blue skies, I never liked anyone really, To be truly honest, So of her I am fondest, When she sings, The stress no longer rings, Her voice, I must say isn't just "Noice", It's the diamond made of crystal, Pure and nature whistle, I want to try again, I might be made fun of by my peers, Insults in both ears, She might not just want to be known, As the girl that made ME not alone, As she sits on the throne, ...I just sit as that one traffic cone..., Tell me if I should try, Or sit alone and cry, To her I might not fly, If you don't like my offering, All ask is...why and what's wrong with me. So...should I try again? Please say if I should, and if you know her don't tell her about this...this is personal business. I don't want to just ask her for a kiss, but if she needs one I can help. If she needs homework done I can help. If she needs anything (almost) I can help.

0

Dec 5, 2017

Dec 5, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC

Antonio_Jones

Try again?

What do I do, If she makes my brain coo, If her singing calms me, Breaking through my ADHD, Her beauty is a sight to see, Her personality is my heart's key, I may be only 12, But into her heart I wish to delve, And make her feel like a goddess, About her I can't be modest, I friendzoned myself...I thought I would fail so I texted can we be friends... she said you don't have to be sorry for liking me. Do I try again, With all these cooler kids, The decision is in mids', I could say I love her, There is no girl above her, Her sweet voice is a lure, And I am the weird fish, With her as my wish, She doesn't judge me, My heart slows when she will nudge me, She makes my life have a drive, And I will compliment her if I am alive, Her name is cyrille, I need her for real, Hug me if you will, I will only go still, How I now feel, Is I need to know, Will she just be a bro, I'll be "Ok" if she says no, But her eyes, They don't tell me lies, They are true happy in disguise, I would tie her shoe ties, She represents blue skies, I never liked anyone really, To be truly honest, So of her I am fondest, When she sings, The stress no longer rings, Her voice, I must say isn't just "Noice", It's the diamond made of crystal, Pure and nature whistle, I want to try again, I might be made fun of by my peers, Insults in both ears, She might not just want to be known, As the girl that made ME not alone, As she sits on the throne, ...I just sit as that one traffic cone..., Tell me if I should try, Or sit alone and cry, To her I might not fly, If you don't like my offering, All ask is...why and what's wrong with me. So...should I try again? Please say if I should, and if you know her don't tell her about this...this is personal business. I don't want to just ask her for a kiss, but if she needs one I can help. If she needs homework done I can help. If she needs anything (almost) I can help.

58

A salt lake in my eyes, Right behind the lids. Two briny pools, Corroding my mids. Rusting my soul, Oxidising my veins. Two briny pools, Over flowing my pains.

0

Aug 1, 2016

Aug 1, 2016 at 8:45 PM UTC

hadas-brenner

Salt lake

A salt lake in my eyes, Right behind the lids. Two briny pools, Corroding my mids. Rusting my soul, Oxidising my veins. Two briny pools, Over flowing my pains.

8