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

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 26
Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listening to the flute on play
chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue
down the sky they sing.

Ambling with the wonder light
the sun draws in
from the secret valley
as if the punter in the sky
knew it, knows the flutist
rose from down the sea!

There is no stop in the solar disc.
Twirling around the inner music
every orb, every planet is a bee.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and at half-light
swings over the sea.

It’s all start from the ground
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the never-ending music
of the pre-design command ‘qun’ be!
D Awanis Oct 2016
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule

It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye

It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell

It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreaks

So they were right after all,

Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude

Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday. How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
Alex McQuate May 13
Great tragedy suffered,
Impossible circumstances conquered,
The warrior walks upon the field flanked path.

The wanderer's armor tells a tale,
Battle scarred and partially rent asunder,
A face of stoicism that hides the haggardness underneath,
Peeking out beneath the mask of a hardened soldier.

The clouds clap ahead, preceded by flashes of light brightly illuminating the world,
Accompanied shortly after by the rainfall.

A trickle becomes a downpour,
The battered individual trudging along as the road becomes a bog of mud and slop,
The message firmly planted within their mind.

Coming upon the dark outline of the castle ahead the warrior picks up pace,
Reflecting upon what would happen to those that the Warrior helped.

The pace is now fueled by a different kind of urgency.

The rain is cold upon the faces of those that it falls on,
The torn edges of metal digging in at places,
Some already wounded and tender,
As the final hilltop between them is crested.

The gates are closed,
And this loyal soldier is for the moment shut out,
A fist is raised,
The declaration of allegience given,
An angry detailing of the warriors achievements and adventures shouted,
And a challenge of one's path,
Building in anger and fury as the dam finally breaks and gushes forth,
Threatening to shatter the gate and doors to splinters and twisted metal.

A long ago promised gift to be rewarded,
For all the things endured,
Things that could be considered so cruel,
The storm picks up in force until it's akin to that of a hurricane,
As if brought forth by the warrior's grief and pain finally being released,
For the first and only time.

These things ringing out dispite the storms roaring wind,
Gathering force,
Perhaps in affirmation of the warriors words.

After a pause the gate begins to lift,
It's metal screeching,
The doors groaning as they begin to swing outward, and the embattered soldier is bathed in light,
Taking the weight from the warrior's shoulders,
As the threshold is finally crossed.
Daisy Marrow Sep 2013
The first time I saw you it was in math class.
I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was.
After all, I had an hour to kill.
The second time I saw you were in English class.
You sat next to me but not by choice.
But I was happy about it.
It took me about four to five weeks to talk to you,
and I wasn't even the one to speak first.
You introduced yourself and then we worked together on an assignment.
It's been two weeks and I haven't said another word and I probably won't out of random.
My anxiety swallows me whole and I'm sorry I can't even say hello.
But I have had time to notice you.
And let me just say
I'm in love with your taste in music
I'm in love with the way you hold your book
thinking that if you change the sound of your voice when the diagonal changes
or if you struggle reading words you've never seen before and sat there for a few seconds trying to piece together what they mean.
I love how you can play the mandolin, you should show me sometime.
As I think about these things I also pick up how you would never even think of me.
I mean really,
you probably want some girl that's outgoing and can strum a guitar solo at midnight with you.
You probably want someone with long hair you can intertwine your fingers in
or someone you can spend an afternoon together after church with.
I can't move mountains
and I can't even speak without looking like a fool
but even if nothing will ever happen
It would be just as quite exciting being friends with you.
We could trade books and make each other mixtapes.
It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already writing mediocre poetry about you.
I'm sorry about that by the way.
I'm not asking for a relationship but a friendship with someone like you would feel just the same.
I wrote this in like 20 minutes and I apologize I don't even know
2013
Blake Jul 27
After school hours, sleepily
Looking down from the window sill
A deep rest in spring wind chill
If I close my eyes
To this brilliant world
Reflected scenery dances still
If I blow a low whistle
Towards the blue sky
Walking becomes a little more spry
Turning my music a little bit down
To listen to the lively corner of town
When I look up with slight rejoice
I hear a distant singing voice
Ah~ Ah~ Ah~
Today begins like any other day
Bathed in the sun slowly drifting away
The most pleasing place to reside
Is here right by your side
Dull clouds early afternoon
A sudden shower in the middle of June
Blue sky peeked out when I arose
Colors arc out accross concrete meadows
The bell chimes when I reach
Out through the window and to the beach
Warm breeze blows through the empty hall
When I looked up I heard you call
Ah~ Ah~ Ah~
Let’s rest into the sunshine
Taking breaths in a comfortable rhyme
We may not speak for very long
Though with just that I feel so strong
My quiet heart echoing true
When I’m here with you
Cress Rosario Dec 2016
She loves to sing when no one can hear
She sings, “Hello!” to the sunshine
She lights up the stars of night sky

She sings when garden blooms
She hums when sorrow looms
She sings her pain away
She sings her love today
A steady cadence  
pulsing in a heart beat
like rhythm, voices
and strummed instruments
all in harmonized concert,
An orchestral multitude,
of frogs and crickets,
never tiring or ceasing,

How many must there be,
to render such a cacophony?
Sustained and loud enough
to keep a city person awake.

Nature's Music of the night,
should you but choose to listen.
How do they do that, all night
with absolutely no intermission?

A crescendo finale triggered
only by the coming dawn's
first light, and the boastful
crowing calls of our cocky
persistent red rooster chicken.

Where these musicians go in
daylight is anybody's guess.
To sleep I suspect, and well
deserved resting up for yet
another night of music.
Another value added feature
of living out in the country. Night
voices lulling me to sleep outside
my open window/screen.
Next page