"peoms" poems - Hello Poetry

It is astonishing how so much can be said in so few words.

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Jun 29, 2010

Jun 29, 2010 at 8:41 AM UTC

wesley-wise

short peoms

It is astonishing how so much can be said in so few words.

3

Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. Like a bear or like a deer. Without drink of bear. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. Just to see a dream. Floating like a sea bream. Catching one another. Playing together. But it is in sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. In my mind your fancy. Collecting thoughts in frequency. With you I will walk. And happily we will talk. For that I will sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. If you will be sad. I feel bad. Never hit you. Never become mad. To your rejoice. I will become your choice. Becoz we are also frnds so deep. So I have to sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. Your anger mood I can study. Oh my love and my friend buddy. I know I will persuade you. It is confirmed and due. You are my life I already it knew. For you I will bring a lamb of sheep. Whom you will feed. Wipe your tears which will seep. Never give you chance to weep. So I need to sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. Need you attention and heed. When my peoms you will read. Come in my dream with slow speed. Now i want to sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. Preparing myself here. Oh my lovely dear. When will you come? I am always stand with a big warm welcome. It is all truth not lies. Now I have to close my eyes. Dizzy and so tired. May be I slip and gets down mired. Blow off my lamp's light. Good bye and good night. Feeling faint and sleepy. Now it is my time to sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. I am going to sleep. GOOD NIGHT.... ..

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Jan 24, 2016

Jan 24, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC

While trying to find my self, I have lost my self, In depths unreachable, In darkness invisible. Breaking the social constructs that I am built in, A war cry echoed through time and space, Infinite possibilities unfold in front of my destiny, A destiny worth a thousand peoms. Still searching, Still seeking, Still looking for that which is me, A soul confined in a human shell. Eager to see that which is not visible, to feel that which is unspeakable, A sudden awe surrounds my mortal form, Liberation, freedom. A unique feel of bliss, the hand of god has reached for that which is within me, Awakened I am to the purest form that I be. Pain, guilt, sorrow and fear, are vanquished in the blink of an eye, The heavens await me, as I sail through the vast oceans of infinity.

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Jan 19, 2015

Jan 19, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC

rexhep-morina

Lost

While trying to find my self, I have lost my self, In depths unreachable, In darkness invisible. Breaking the social constructs that I am built in, A war cry echoed through time and space, Infinite possibilities unfold in front of my destiny, A destiny worth a thousand peoms. Still searching, Still seeking, Still looking for that which is me, A soul confined in a human shell. Eager to see that which is not visible, to feel that which is unspeakable, A sudden awe surrounds my mortal form, Liberation, freedom. A unique feel of bliss, the hand of god has reached for that which is within me, Awakened I am to the purest form that I be. Pain, guilt, sorrow and fear, are vanquished in the blink of an eye, The heavens await me, as I sail through the vast oceans of infinity.

22

i clench my fists and curl my toes and close my eyes and just smile at how cute you are. my stomach whirls thinking of you. i feel like i'm in elementary school again and i don't exist.

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Mar 20, 2013

Mar 20, 2013 at 7:22 AM UTC

breanna-hermann

i am twiddling my thumbs and staring at the ceiling and thinking hard because all of my peoms' titles are 'untitled'.

i clench my fists and curl my toes and close my eyes and just smile at how cute you are. my stomach whirls thinking of you. i feel like i'm in elementary school again and i don't exist.

1

You are young and beautiful. You date people who are older and not wise. You are not a prize but something more special . You try to impress the person you are dating. Because you are young you don't know that they should impress you instead. You're perfect just the way you are. I wish you could be my lady so I could impress you and try as much as I can to make sure you wouldn't leave me. Grace is a beautiful name you match it perfectly. Grace you act like you're in space sometimes but I don't know why. I hope you atleast read one of my peoms about you.

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Nov 8, 2012

Nov 8, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC

jay-wilson

Young a beautiful

You are young and beautiful. You date people who are older and not wise. You are not a prize but something more special . You try to impress the person you are dating. Because you are young you don't know that they should impress you instead. You're perfect just the way you are. I wish you could be my lady so I could impress you and try as much as I can to make sure you wouldn't leave me. Grace is a beautiful name you match it perfectly. Grace you act like you're in space sometimes but I don't know why. I hope you atleast read one of my peoms about you.

10

authors note Hey Everyone! This is a little peom I made with one line from each of my peoms fused together. It's a little strange but I wanted to represent all of my work. I hope you like it!!! Crandall I feel safe with your power You chomped me and swallowed me whole you're pitch dark eyelashes, like pitch dark strings your kindness, happiness, gorgeousity corporations are evil crandall's art was super great our wurld is a mess you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it i hear your screeches as you sing along to katy perry's "swish swish" towers of grape, rolling bouncing my fingers would slide down it like a sheet of paper on a river of melted butter paper-thin beetle wings, fear i love the little ***** eggs remind me of you the next day i saw you your eye was the size of a glob of clove powder Or an ant on a log peoms That was your licky number, Don't be ashamed of your hobnobs. I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death the repriduction of the universe howdy doo darknes. my princess, my darling, my murderer the ocean, salty like my tears My thoughts were running wild like snip snip i g u e s s t h i s i s j u s t a c r u e l w o r l d i smell you take the nuts Your kneecaps

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Oct 30, 2017

Oct 30, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC

crandallbranch

FrankPeom

authors note Hey Everyone! This is a little peom I made with one line from each of my peoms fused together. It's a little strange but I wanted to represent all of my work. I hope you like it!!! Crandall I feel safe with your power You chomped me and swallowed me whole you're pitch dark eyelashes, like pitch dark strings your kindness, happiness, gorgeousity corporations are evil crandall's art was super great our wurld is a mess you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it i hear your screeches as you sing along to katy perry's "swish swish" towers of grape, rolling bouncing my fingers would slide down it like a sheet of paper on a river of melted butter paper-thin beetle wings, fear i love the little ***** eggs remind me of you the next day i saw you your eye was the size of a glob of clove powder Or an ant on a log peoms That was your licky number, Don't be ashamed of your hobnobs. I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death the repriduction of the universe howdy doo darknes. my princess, my darling, my murderer the ocean, salty like my tears My thoughts were running wild like snip snip i g u e s s t h i s i s j u s t a c r u e l w o r l d i smell you take the nuts Your kneecaps

33

I write a lot of them My mind thinks in bursts So I'm sorry for the format I bounce back and forth between sad happy and angry I just want to document it while it's here

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Jun 6, 2017

Jun 6, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC

EmptyAstronaut

One line peoms

I write a lot of them My mind thinks in bursts So I'm sorry for the format I bounce back and forth between sad happy and angry I just want to document it while it's here

5

famous poems are not personal famous poems are general famous poems apply to everyone and make so much sence it hurts famous peoms are famous because they are presented and taken by everyone personal poems are not famous personal poems do not make sence personal poems do not get famous O.N. +

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Jan 22, 2018

Jan 22, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC

OlliverJNelson

Famous poems

famous poems are not personal famous poems are general famous poems apply to everyone and make so much sence it hurts famous peoms are famous because they are presented and taken by everyone personal poems are not famous personal poems do not make sence personal poems do not get famous O.N. +

9

I used to keep a suicide note in my wallet in case I ever found a building with a view beautiful enough to be my last. It was a hastily written apology for never being who everyone thought I could be. It between the faded blue lines, gentle wishes kissed the page, hoping someday someone would see them and they would come true. The middle paragraph carved a hollow spot in my chest as I wrote it. "My friends. I am sorry. I know you'll never really understand. I hope that you all can forgive me for meeting you in the first place. I love you and I'm sorry I can never truly express it, I know I have class but it feels okay that I can finally be free of them, and you can be free of me." The words were smudged with bits of alcohol that had dripped from the bottles mouth when I pulled it from mine. God how I couldn't wait for it all to end. Then, I met you. I wrote poem after poem hoping youd get the hint. You were my building, my end. Your eyes, the final sky id see, your smile, my last sunset. I took one of the peoms from my drawer, the first line reads, "Her eyes, the forest. The greenest life that could ever grow."

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Aug 22, 2016

Aug 22, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC

NoahH

I got the color of your eyes wrong

I used to keep a suicide note in my wallet in case I ever found a building with a view beautiful enough to be my last. It was a hastily written apology for never being who everyone thought I could be. It between the faded blue lines, gentle wishes kissed the page, hoping someday someone would see them and they would come true. The middle paragraph carved a hollow spot in my chest as I wrote it. "My friends. I am sorry. I know you'll never really understand. I hope that you all can forgive me for meeting you in the first place. I love you and I'm sorry I can never truly express it, I know I have class but it feels okay that I can finally be free of them, and you can be free of me." The words were smudged with bits of alcohol that had dripped from the bottles mouth when I pulled it from mine. God how I couldn't wait for it all to end. Then, I met you. I wrote poem after poem hoping youd get the hint. You were my building, my end. Your eyes, the final sky id see, your smile, my last sunset. I took one of the peoms from my drawer, the first line reads, "Her eyes, the forest. The greenest life that could ever grow."

9

I don't know how to write poetry like I don't know how to kiss you. Our lips touch, my heart races, but my hands don't know how closely I am able to hold on to you. If I could write poems I'd tell you how holding you close feels like finding a life jacket when you're lost at sea. I'd tell you how your smile is the safest place I have ever known. That I've decorated the walls of my heart with your memories so I have somewhere to call home. But I can't. When you're around my body becomes a garden. Butterflies dance around wildly in my stomach, through a meadow of delusion. Vines grow and twist around my heart, in the same way that they make old ruins beautiful. My tongue is paradise. A thousand blooms unfurling in your sunlight, a bed of velvet soft petals with the sweetest nectar you're only too happy to devour. You gorge away on the sweetest fruits, th nectar, you take your cuttings for ornaments. And when youre done you leave. Darkness follows in your wake, my eyes become waterfalls, washing any colour that remained until there is only grey. I can't kiss you. Because I know that afterwards there is a storm without parallel. I know resting my hand on your skin is no longer a silent I love you. More like a moth flying to close to the flame. And I can't write a poem, because when you leave me, there is nothing left...

0

Sep 24, 2019

Sep 24, 2019 at 6:23 PM UTC

amanda-francis

I can't write peoms.

I don't know how to write poetry like I don't know how to kiss you. Our lips touch, my heart races, but my hands don't know how closely I am able to hold on to you. If I could write poems I'd tell you how holding you close feels like finding a life jacket when you're lost at sea. I'd tell you how your smile is the safest place I have ever known. That I've decorated the walls of my heart with your memories so I have somewhere to call home. But I can't. When you're around my body becomes a garden. Butterflies dance around wildly in my stomach, through a meadow of delusion. Vines grow and twist around my heart, in the same way that they make old ruins beautiful. My tongue is paradise. A thousand blooms unfurling in your sunlight, a bed of velvet soft petals with the sweetest nectar you're only too happy to devour. You gorge away on the sweetest fruits, th nectar, you take your cuttings for ornaments. And when youre done you leave. Darkness follows in your wake, my eyes become waterfalls, washing any colour that remained until there is only grey. I can't kiss you. Because I know that afterwards there is a storm without parallel. I know resting my hand on your skin is no longer a silent I love you. More like a moth flying to close to the flame. And I can't write a poem, because when you leave me, there is nothing left...

14

The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give True religion is to live!

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Aug 22, 2016

Aug 22, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC

badonko

No bed of roses.

The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give True religion is to live!

8

oxygen molecules h20 o2 co2 its overwhelming sometimes how things can combine to make new things chemistry biology aquatic biology its overwhelming sometimes how when you think about new things, you have questions and those questions turn into answers that only leave you with more questions books magazines newspapers peoms its overwhelming sometimes that the written word, a beautiful method of self-expression has been corrupted by Them The ones that manipulate that scorch that ravage the land we must stand up we must fight and only then can we be free can we be underwhelmed we will be strong with everyone fighting forming a human wall we will be stronk.

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Oct 27, 2017

Oct 27, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC

crandallbranch

just breathe

oxygen molecules h20 o2 co2 its overwhelming sometimes how things can combine to make new things chemistry biology aquatic biology its overwhelming sometimes how when you think about new things, you have questions and those questions turn into answers that only leave you with more questions books magazines newspapers peoms its overwhelming sometimes that the written word, a beautiful method of self-expression has been corrupted by Them The ones that manipulate that scorch that ravage the land we must stand up we must fight and only then can we be free can we be underwhelmed we will be strong with everyone fighting forming a human wall we will be stronk.

35

Just started to write Hope it rhymes English is still cool thou Caus yo get to write things like bruh Step by step you get ahead But there is no way We are already perfect No purpose to convey The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give! True religion is to live!

0

Jul 27, 2016

Jul 27, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC

badonko

Yakidiyo

Just started to write Hope it rhymes English is still cool thou Caus yo get to write things like bruh Step by step you get ahead But there is no way We are already perfect No purpose to convey The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give! True religion is to live!

16