"peyton" poems
Who knew the soft breeze
Was merely a tease
And sunrise a false fire,
The waters once calmer
Inviting and promised
A siren’s calling horror.
Quiet Lake a liar,
liar.
My God has watched the wind turn and many a son die, though I did not pay attention to deaths jealous eye.
The shock grasps and pulls until you know its true,
The best of us was taken
And I was left to you
The shadow on his chin in that early golden glow,
stuck inside the tent I did not know.
That the paddle of their canoe through the calm breeze would be
the last I’d see--
Island time clocks slow like a grief as it grows and regret in often company.
Who gives a **** island was stretched from shore to shore,
Divided by that cold wet demon
A womb of lost children, a watery graveyard.
All for smoke and fire they paddled their canoe
One beached on land like a salty sailor
The other exiled to hells blue.
The tragedy—whose heart weighted in gold left my copper soul rusted, the brakeman sold the purest human I’d known and grief clocks slow when you keep waiting for his body to surface.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
"People always leave." - Peyton Sawyer, One Tree Hill
And sometimes they take you with them too.
The worst kind of people you can lose are the ones losing whom seems like losing yourself too.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC
1. You could not wait til halftime to check your poem or add one.
2. You wrote a sonnet about pretty horses. (Broncos)
3.You wrote a poem about kittens.(Panthers)
4. As the ball soars through the air, you are reminded of a bird in flight.
5. A Superbowl commercial inspired a new poem.
6. You paused the game with your DVR to write a piece.
7. You think the referees look like majestic Zebra on the African plains.
8. You ponder the coin toss and wonder of chance and philosophical questions as to whether life is like a paradox, then write yourself a poem about it.
9. When a tackle is made, you think upon the animalistic nature of humanity and write a haiku about it.
10. There is a notebook and pen right next to your remote and munchies.
11. You have a neck ache due to looking at your hellopoetry site and then back up at the t.v.
12. You write Peyton Manning farewell poem.
13. The commentator of the game makes a poetical statement and you use it in your latest poem.
14. The crowd boos a player and you feel compelled to write the pain of number 94 in a poem.
15. Last but not least, you might be a poet if you are reading this and the game is on.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
Summer's still here, it's nearing fall
Worldwide excitement, it's FOOTBALL!
This season starts the fans are wild
Time for the game, the players are riled
All in orange, tailgating before
Manning takes field, the crowd they roar
Toss the coin, we will receive
Want ball at half, won't deceive
They punt real high just watch it soar
Takes a knee, the twenty, no more
The blazing sun, outside it's hot
Cold beer and dogs, the fans they bought
The first pass is incomplete
Groans from throng and stomping feet
The second play, under control
Our running back finds a huge hole
First down their forty yard line
Thus far we are doing fine
The ball snaps and Peyton drops back
Four man rush, he's down for the sack
One more pass it's intercepted
To the fans this is unexpected
Out comes the opposing team
What's this, for Manning they scream
It's Eli in his red, white and blue
This is too much, you feel it too
Brothers face off in a game
Greatness is all in the name
Both teams run, tackle, hit hard and pass
Tied game, seconds left, do we come in last The field goal squad must do their best
Prader lines up, misses all in jest
OVERTIME :-)
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
Let’s not forget our childhoods
Like playing in the rain, getting drench, and loving it
The scene I remembered most, was i watching Peggy the small dog,
in the window across the street.
While, the neighbors keep up their lawns, and areas neatly pruned
With the dull chopping sound of the cutlasses, early in the morning:
I generally held a book close to my face, while reading
But somehow, on that day, I kept staring at the house across the street
I don’t remember if I had done my chores or not,
before the lady in this photo came home that day for lunch.
For her, it was all about keeping up appearances,
Dinner at six, all school shoes must be polished before seven
and our Immaculate uniforms, must be hanging on the ironing board.
And no matter what,
all lights must be out before ten o’clock.
“Don’t forget to say your goodnight Prayers, she would have said”
Lately I've been thinking about childhood a lot
Suddenly, my thoughts turned to my first soap opera, Peyton Place,
Woody Allen, Mia farrow, and all my childhood memories came to a haul with…images of my friend Dolly Benskin and her daughter Paige:
Paige die at an early age: which haunted me for years..
why so young?
I use to love smoking candy cigarettes, but not between my toes
This morning of all mornings,
bonds with the carpet fibers is a piece of candy
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
I don't know why it makes me sick to my stomach everytime I look at you. You're beautiful and cunning and interesting and I hate you because you're so different than me and yet I'm fascinated by everything you can be that I can't, and I'm in awe of everything you can do that I can't. God you have so much talent.
Yet everytime I look at you I get sick to my stomach. You're perfect because you know that you aren't. And you're so wrong sometimes, but I can't even know this because I hardly know you and just writing about you and ranting about you makes me feel so weird because you would feel so weird if you knew that I was writing about you and ranting about you. This must mean I care about you, but I don't know why. I care so much about someone I've never even met.
Everytime I look at you I get sick to my stomach. I guess this means we should meet. "Hi, I'm Peyton." Oh, wait. You don't know this is about you or who I am for that matter.
So I guess all I can do is keep getting sick to my stomach everytime I look at you. And all I can do is be jealous of you for some reason that I still can't figure out, because there's no way that I'd ever want to be you. You're so ******* fascinating. I wish you knew how fascinated I am by you. Wait, no I don't. If you knew then you would know that I know who you are and that I'm writing and ranting about you and I would get embarrassed about how creepy I am.
So I'll just keep looking at you and getting sick to my stomach, because no matter how hard I try not to, I still can see you everywhere.
I don't know why I get sick to my stomach everytime I look at you.
Oh wait. I guess I just told you why.
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
The boxes are taped, and crammed in a truck
Floors are bare and naked shelves in sight.
Memories afloat, heart full. But all because it is now their change of luck.
The clouds are dark, and the day is dim.
for the house is ready for someone else to move it.
Their engine comes to a roar, and something inside me doesn't want to feel this anymore.
A new opportunity ahead has moved their couches, chairs and beds.
My family is leaving, but not to far.
Our weekends with make-up, nail polish, and curls,
will be more like a rare star.
I am going to miss snuggling my little girls.
185.3 miles you see,
that is the difference between you and me.
I love you McCarty, Peyton, and Reese.
For Kayla will never EVER be deceased.
your little minds will grow, and memories will fade.
But this I know for sure, you have my life made.
You are so much as a part of my heart, the thought of you gone would really tare me apart.
But the fact that life, is never going to end. I will be here for you, I will not pretend.
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
Making No Sense
Young people cry,
old people die,
I just wonder why.
Babies are born,
men watch ****
women are torn.
Some swallow,
soul is hollow,
I just wallow.
Read between lines,
always pay fines,
do it in the pines.
Think outside the box,
not all keys fit locks,
I'm more sly than a fox.
Breaking the chains,
everyone complains,
all that remains.
Met at the station,
in for the duration,
part of the creation.
Mind over matter,
thin over fatter,
brains always splatter.
Orlando and Dawn,
Hudson and Hawn,
is anybody really gone.
Food on table,
mentally unstable,
ready, willing and able.
Praying to God,
while laying sod,
two peas in a pod.
Football is gay,
Peyton better play,
Broncos all the way.
Nothing seems level,
born a rebel,
running with the devil.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
Peyton, not the type.
Brady, is not the type.
Michael Jordan, never been the one.
So you must admire Colin Kaepernick protesting.
We knew when he chose to do this.
He would be the team backup.
As much as many states they marched with King , the truth stands many rose to do anything.
Similar to many ministers now.
Many has no back bone to represent anyone.
And these the ones saying be like Jesus without comprehending his stand.
Aaron Rodgers, wouldn't.
Stephen Curry, well hard to say.
This also goes for Lebron James.
People called "brand" don't like to tarnish their image.
And these guys mention are millionaires.
So for a players of Colin's stature to create a conversation.
He must be saluted.
Notice, it's the youth group of players starting this revolution.
Then, if you remember the sixties protesters and hippies they also was the young ones.
Those in power had to face the rage of a changing nation.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
You watch as I rot inside my cage
getting lost in a purple haze
Like a mouse stuck in it's maze
wake up late to one of those days
Let's look deep inside
we have nothing to hide
Sidewalks filled with heads
the sought corruption of the walking dead
pillars, columns & staircases
We leave a lasting trace
spread out upon are Peyton Place
You must walk in the almighty's ways
creatures, features & moonlight dealers
Blood soaked skin on their brow
lines formed in their face
Viscous long hanging fangs that bite
Creatures of the night
fallen demonic members that surround
Sound the alarm
not for the faint in hearted
One must humbly bow the knee to pray
the atheist would insist it aught not be this way
Shadows break forth toward a bond of revolt
others seek vengeance and take you to court
Evil minds that plug destruction
torturing their brain washed minds
Satan laughing spreads his wings
a challenge to be free is a question of time
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
omaha is the capital of peyton manning
it is full of sights and wonders
its the best place that i have been to
i have never been to omaha
it just sounds so cool
o0oooooooooooooomaha
oooooooooooooooooomaha
the call of the omaha
oooooooooooooooooomaha
omaha is located 20 miles north of the north pole
so you should take a visit
i think theres a hotel there
so yeah
oooooooooooooooooooooomaha
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
I had to change my name on here because someone in my real life kept finding my poetry and reading it despite me kindly asking them to respect my privacy. My poems are my deepest and most personal thoughts. I write for me, in order to get my emotions out. It is an outlet for me. I don't necessarily want my friends and family seeing what I have to say. I appreciate all of the poets here and love the feedback from you all, so please don't think Peyton went away. She is just Mela now. Carmela is my grandmother's name:)
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
Look at the stars
and try to tell me
That a sheep doesn't know
the taste of a rose.
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
I always get the sense
that it's late.
Later in the day;
Where did my morning go?
Later in my life;
I need to get a move on
I need to accomplish dreams and things
Later in the year;
Is it a new year already?
What have I been doing for the last nineteen years?
Maybe it's been twenty-two.
Later in the moment;
Are you leaving already?
When will I see you again?
Oh, that's a long time
Later in the whatever-this-is-that's-happening-to-me;
When are you coming back?
Oh, you're leaving for good?
Okay.
Well, let me know if I can change your mind.
No?
Okay.
Later in my lack of experience;
Oh, hey there.
I'm Peyton
I want to let you know up front.
I'm a little crazy.
Oh.
Okay.
Goodbye, then.
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
Out of the mere solace there springs forth a silence
cold hearts plunge in it's beautiful interludes
A beacon of light for a hurting world in need
sorted Lavender grace upon the Peyton Place
We filled slowly into the auditorium
faces fixed on what was being said
For I shed a tear to numb the pain
Not having you in my arms was driving me insane
faces, hands & feet
Shadows beckoning call asunder
A harp was being played
we could see his majestic throne
Alone taunt the fragile imagination in my frame
a soul vexed solution for the mentally insane
A message of grace seasoned with salt
Flowers from heaven can't be bought
A free gift to the undeserved
to flourish in the vast intoxication
May need a rest on a long awaited vacation
A red rose that was plucked a time before
Our tender hearts will soar through the opened door
a feeling of ambiance through the room
Destined to lavish this upon are hearts
awake to watch the white angelic dove fly high
A challenge to be free is a question of time
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 2:01 PM UTC
"God bless football"
???????
No
No no no no no
God doesn't bless football
Its just another means conceived by the devil
To divide the people
Cam newton should have won
But what makes more money
And money is the cause of all evil
And evil is the playground of the devil
"God bless football"
**** you Peyton manning
Go sexually assault another female trainer
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 12:50 AM UTC
Journey To The Center Of The Earth
Why do we even care ?
the notion of the left at ease
Shadows in the brazen eyes
Journey to the center of the earth...
A breach to put
love is for certain
got to wait for surgery
Why don't people let me be ?
Thoughts of living in the make believe
love is gifted along with laughter
Gather round my friend on some mother hen
lover's left from the count of ten
shouts of grace spread about the fan
lover's left to race upon our Peyton Place
Left to ever release
Given a solemn peace;
Journey to the center of the earth
perched beneath the timber & squeeze
Shouts of joy
A brand new toy
filled up with a noted ploy
A pierced love in tender means
through the trees
the honey nor a mere breeze
shadows for ego taste
from my head down to my toe
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC
I tell my friend to stay strong,
Then I walk off a cliff,
I take a hit off my ****
As I'm vertically adrift,
People ask me what's wrong,
But my stiff upper lip,
Sings a certain type of song,
That goes something like this:
I am okay,
I'm not in pain,
I don't feel like I'm slowly going insane.
I'm not in love with a girl that won't dare say my name.
I'm not ugly and disgusting and full of shame,
And contemplate suicide every single day,
Avoiding all people, the straight and the gay,
Because of my ******* an-xie-ty,
So stop asking me questions and leave me be.
I'll wander around on these empty streets,
Making use of my mind, my music, and these beats.
Going to a place that's fairly secure,
Ongoing suffering so I wish I were,
In front of a car that happened to swerve,
Nicely triggering all of my nerves,
Guess in the end that's what I deserved.
Thank you for trying,
Over my dead body.
Flying off a roof and then I'm landing,
Under a car that's death demanding,
Crushed and unconciousness ever expanding,
Killed off cause that's what Satan was planning,
In the kingdom of God where they were busy banning,
Nuns not ******* while Peyton Manning,
Grabs Bradys ***** not a sin but enchanting.
**** me please,
I'll beg and I'll plead,
Lie down here with me,
Lost, but I'm free.
My time is gone,
You must live on,
Say that you're strong,
Each of you belong,
Life isn't long,
For this is my song.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC