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.
CK Baker Apr 2017
to exonerate the clipping
we took the dirt road to oswega
the tudor house rabbits
had long lost their heads
(presumably to the *****)
and what remained
of the scape
was dead
and dry
and orange

that happy home
on the brink
of cattle loop
was now gull grey ~
the needles
and stragglers
(from shady bay)
remained in numbers
on the outskirt
of the park

the fabled town
of horse drawn tours
was stone washed ~
on the back of
government docks
sat decrepit toppers
set on high tide
against the lighthouse
and its measured song

flutes and fiddles
and acoustic sitars
ride the accompaniment
nose rings
and signage
in the hands of
staged protesters
the sickly spit strewn
with tidal run
and ocean bags

hedgerow trimmed
alongside the sea walk
rolling hills bend
before the chuck
mint juleps
and flop hats
peak the parade
clydesdales
and royals
blinded in back
am i ee Feb 2016
years pass

things that
bothered me

songs that
pierced my heart

songs that
brought only
sad memories

don't,
anymore.
how i kick my
****
for getting rid of you

vinyl and CD
but especially
vinyl
****... why did i let you go
steeping in the memories

songs
music
how fast
they take
us
right back

to those moments
bittersweet memories
with ones we loved
so seemingly deep
or not
such great passion
such great wisdom

don't hurry through
your pain
but don't ever
think you cannot
get through it
if you so choose

sometimes it is time
to check out
who am i
to say

but....
maybe...
another day.....
another moment...
will change how
you feel
what you think.....

i say...
plan it out
be very detailed
but do not be impetuous

take your time

for you have all
the time in the world
all the time in the
universe

for there is no where to go
nothing to do
and
all the time to
get there

if you might
ever ask for my advice
and i caution you
you may not want to
do that

procrastination in
some things
is the very best
hand.....

now what the ****
am i talking about...

i know.
do you????
Daisy Marrow Nov 2014
Have I ever compared you to the stars?
Have I ever described your eyes in ways that resemble constellations?
Talk to me about time.
Talk to me about the universe
in all ways that I'll never be able to understand.
Spin me around like a clock and take me back in time
to the days when stars shined brighter than these city lights.

We don't have to say a word.
Make no noise, not a sound.
Let silence fill our ears.
Let the quiet take over the earth.
Let us float in this peace,
and enjoy the time we have together.

I had a dream, however insane, that we were dancing with the cosmos.
Twirling with the burning stars,
and playing hide and seek with the spaceships.

I know that you have to leave soon
and I know that stars don't burn forever,
but lay with me here on the ground.
We'll count sheep all night until
the sun greets us in the morning letting us know
that the night is dead and gone.

It's not my fault that I fell in love with the world in you.
I see so much life in you
and I think we should stay in this position forevermore.
We will never miss another darting star,
Whirling its way passed us breaking our silence just for a second.
I wrote this after seeing The Theory of Everything.
A+ movie would highly recommend!
John Stevens Jan 2015
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.

Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.

They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
11-18-16.   16,100 times
12-21-16.   17,200 times
07-28-17.  28,300 times
05-18-18.   42,400 times
10-15-18   48,400 times
Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
Lady Luna Jan 31
Honey drips and drips
past the tips, tips
of your fingers
inhale, exhale
it often lingers
straight to ****
with you and me
see, see,
blasphemy

So I rip and rip
and dip and dip
crush and stuff
light and puff
to forget I followed
you
d
o
w
n
here
Aurelia Ward Oct 12
The downy plumes
Surround his eyes
His twisted mouth
A tired disguise
The cotton shell he
Held so close
To hide the sheep
That cried inside

Sticky memories
Keep him trapped
Gooey fleece
Is gently wrapped
Fingers outstretched
Tenderly
Until their tears had
Overlapped
For Lashes
Ray Casey Oct 4
Blossoming from the mouths of cynics,
disgusting things creating panic,
of weakened ones who cannot laugh,
pitiful words that wreck their heart.

Never caring about what they say,
disturbing minds with their malicious games,
shaming the lonely in their brokenness,
passing that poison is never victimless.
CK Baker Jan 19
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants (and frontmen)
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanied
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth
snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
fish traps
and beaneries
dot the busy causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
Thera Lance Oct 3
The movies lie,
Every single image that flashes through these eyes of mine
Promises that I’ll have more
Seconds to braid your hair,
Minutes to whisper sorry so that
The past no longer drags you down with cold steel
Biting deep.

There should be
More moments to hold your hand as
The hourglass’s red sand dribbles through your fingers
And pools around us,
Mirroring a world where
We could have walked side by side,
With sunlight streaming through your hair
And moonlight illuminating our bed where we rest
With hair the same silver.

There should have been a time where
I could have held your hand
With the strength of a chain,
Wrapping around our arms in golden threads
And binding our fates.

We should have been able to
Sit under the same tree,
While smaller others played around us.

The screens vowed
Long enough to say all
That could be said between us,
Yet, the only thing that I can give you
To wipe away tears that I can no longer reach,
Is a smile.
Next page