"poetries" poems
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
some poetries
are not yet
conveyed into words;
they're still
felt by the heart,
and the mind
is still fathoming
those sentiments,
before finally
converting them
into words.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 11:44 AM UTC
There will never come a day:
1.
I stuck my head out of the window in rain
Without looking for your presence in between
2.
I drink coffee, any kind of coffee
Without pretending it's you I am drinking
3.
I see lines of poetries
Without reading it in your handwriting
4.
I blow a candle
Without imagining it's her in your heart
(I tried to read a boring book as if
it were your letters ----
But you've never sent me one)
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
(Once a poet said ''all poets are liars)
You made life seem like it's larger than life
Have you ever lived your own poetries so rife?
You poets are thieves...
You stole all the good things to say in life
And you hit the truth sharp like a knife
You poets are unconscious killers
How words can change everything
Truth implied?
Life questioned?
Aches plain-implied?
I am no Poet....
I am a Man of a simple truth
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 1:04 AM UTC
My heart is beating rhythmically
In resonance to the beat of 'End Of Time’.
My soul is breathing in tranquility,
In response to the gleaming full moon.
My body is surviving poetically
In reply to the poetries I write.
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 6:25 AM UTC
Many poets come and gone
and left golden words about mother
but no stories ,no poetries
and no thank you note to father
even the god have no words that can emote
his hard work
.
This is an incomplete reality,
that mother's love is everything
There is some contribution from them too
without which we are nothing .
.
You will find many who will say that you are their moon
but you will always be the moon
of his sky
he always protect you
with his clouds of different hues
.
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 3:36 AM UTC
As I look through my past poetries
I've already felt the feelings I am feeling now
Like on repeat stream, I stream through it again
I will capture it once again,
Like a treasured entity.
The paper will be heavily inked
with an account of watery blotches
My eyes heavily rained
it makes an unforgettable picture,
the state of my heart,
the same as this half torn paper.
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
Freezing Moon by the stereo
and as a bed poet
I'm takin' a ****
*Did you know about that guy
who slit his wrist… on this?* she says.
No; Martha, Jessica, Julia: but still…
Here, alone, with the MacBook Air
- or was it Pro? Nevertheless,
an useless tool for worthless ****
**** Pr0n, Pony - ************
Here, alone, I and only I writes with the capital I.
And after the **** has gone
it feeds the air with oriental glams of leprosy:
and after a long working day I am not afraid,
watching its face, as I'm flushing it in the toilet
just like all the bitches' poetries @ Home-Poetry.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
Stop! Stand there in that yellow line
That line, yes, painted in yellow
Extending relentlessly in horizontals
Dividing our world and will keep me away from you
Now I can see you, and so do you
You are just 10 steps away from me
But 1 more step and you'll break that line, which is yellow
No, not the yellow line, your shoes should not touch its edges
Oh my poor yellow line
Just an old habit, intoxicating myself in the wonders,
Now I wonder, wondering if once you stepped in that yellow line
You might see the oddities of my world revolving in solitudes
Plain gray celestial bodies and dull stars
It's simply really boring there you know..(while shoulders shrugging)
My way of stopping you is such an abomination! Diabolicaly unacceptable!
Causing this whole fiasco to be more catastrophic, you can rebuke me if you please
How could I? Forgiveness should not be given right?
Its too much to be deserved by the person behind those yellow lines which is not you
Now you are walking away
I'm just there gazing at your back then back to my precious yellow line
I just noticed now, why does the flute i'm playing produces no sound?
It looses its voice, must be broken for the first time
No, not in the melancholic blues again
I've been too much indulged there
Maybe I should paint my moon green?
A touch of blue in my sun,
Then a little red in my stars
Orange in the asteroids then
Rainbows in the planets
Of course, yellow in my whole universe
Now it's so bizzare and confusing but I love it
But nope not to call him back
Nor the other shoes to step on that yellow line
No shoes should touch my yellow line
Now, there i'm sleepy but before that I just realized,
Monsters inside you simply be awaken and unleashed through playing with poetries
And again, the line which is painted in yellow
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
love is the thing she need
but the world has it's own greed
her eyes say it all
every time a drop of tear falls
every pain she recalls
everyone say she writes poetries very deep
but no one know her tear is the ink ,
her pain is her inspiration to write
that's why she cry to make herself sleep
one day she'll bounce back
and give the answer of your all attack
till then wait for her comeback.
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 12:36 PM UTC
Every time I think I need some time
A few lonely moments
alone from the society
away from poetries
Away from Myself
Away from everything at once
The moment I feel so
your thoughts bring me back to poetries..
to comfort me
to console me
to make me cry
deeply to sleep
to wipe my tears
to hug me tight
Though I need you the most
but only alternative I've are my prose/poetries...
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
Romantic words wasn’t enough to tell my feelings for you
My poetries wasn’t enough to venting my love for you
Slow songs doesn’t sound right
When you are on my mind
Because you are too special to be described
My blood rushed faster
And my heart applied more pressure
I may have told you I am ready to let go
But the reality, I struggled trying to walk away
The harder I tried, the more my affection grows
And the more I wanted to stay
To be with you until my life passes away
I still want you to fill my heart
In the hollow part
But that would be my own selfishness
Because you already filled somebody else’s
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Before I fell in love
with the midnight sky;
with the summer breeze;
with the deep blue ocean;
with the shimmers of gradation
on the sunset sky;
with all of the city lights
in a starless night;
with the words and poetries;
and even with myself;
it is you who I fell in love with first.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
Poetries in the draft explains the reality well
Published, just make it beautiful..
Jan 15, 2023
Jan 15, 2023 at 10:09 AM UTC
you are the draft
of my poetries
that I have kept hidden.
you've taught me how to render
all these feelings to be unspoken.
you are the song
by which the octave
of my voice can't reach;
and yet I still try to sing you in secrecy.
you are the art
that my simple mind
can't seem to understand
but it's okay, because I feel you
and that's what gives these emotions
an infinite ampersand.
you are all these,
and yet to me, you are still nothing.
because in this life, that is all we are, and is all what we are ever going to be: nothing.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
No regret , no descent of gloomy drop from eyes and no pain in heart for falling for a man dressed in courage.
No shivering in hands for emptying all those love poetries into trash which unknowingly embraced a spineless in the ****
Flowers of love and trust , though , trampled but I am still a flower who is yet to be wilted !
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 11:33 AM UTC
I am a dust laden untuned guitar in a corner.
Come toward me and wipe away all my loneliness and tune the untuned strings in my life with your warm hands.
Chat with me the way you sing melodiously along with your guitar's melodious tunes.
Beat my fears the way you beat your drums.
Read , understand , remember and love me like your books.
Listen to the noises , voices , whispers and sounds in my silences.
Give me an eternal space in your poetries.
Spent such moments with me that gets carved beautifully on the walls of my memories.
Get lost in my love the way you are into the melodies of your violen and piano while playing them.
Love me above the boundaries of ether.
Embrace me tightly in the arms of your soul and coalesce me within your soul.
And take me away in the ethereal cosmos with you.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
Dear little scribbler,
This piece is for you
Always remember,
You are the best, that's true
You may have a hard time to compose,
Poetries or a prose
Relax and let your imagination wander,
Think, let your brain ponder
If you're not known, never relinquish
Your works will be distinguished
Allow your wings to spread,
Your ink, let it shed
Dear little scribbler,
Lift your dreams up high
Their judgements never matter,
Do not stop, always try.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 9:27 PM UTC
Some unfinished poetries can be understood by only some,
cause it has to be felt..
Sep 26, 2021
Sep 26, 2021 at 11:16 AM UTC
People said
Romanticizing is too dramatic
And sad poetries
Are kind of untold suicidal notes
And poets
Are too broken, bluer than a bruise
Blacker than old stretches
As miserable as a grayish dark cloudy sky
As heavy as the hazy rainfalls on a rooftop
Little know they realize
That words hurt
And sharp,
Like a knife twisted in a soul.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
This morning
I woke up
and thought
all my poetries
were over
but then I saw her
smiling in her sleep
and there it was,
love, yet again.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 3:05 AM UTC
I remember how we first met,
It's a blurred image of you and the rain
Right now the things I love the most.
I remember our first fight,
you, yelling at the top of your lungs
And me, crying my eyes out on the other side of the phone
I remember our first kiss,
I still feel bad for pulling you close so I could kiss you forever,
But you said you liked it, so it's okay.
And then I remember every time we broke up
Every broken heart, every broken moment, every shattered piece of heart
I also remember me always coming back and you always forgiving me.
This time had to be different, not the good kind of different
They say time heals everything, and I will get over you
You were the most beautiful shade of blue, but blue to me is just a color.
Of course I will get over you
Over your hugs and kisses, because I never stayed up late
thinking of how time stops every time we touch.
Of course I will get over you
You were the only reason I loved writing poetries
But poetries never meant anything to me, anyway.
Of course I will get over you,
I will eventually get over you.
And I think I know the perfect time when to
I will get over you soon,
As soon as I start believing Emma Bovary was a total *****
And Jessie J is a bad singer,
And poetries are just words connected to one another,
And Sleeping at Last is so not the best music band ever.
I will get over you as soon as I start hating rain,
Or think that black is the most beautiful color,
Or just claiming that black is a color to begin with.
As soon as I start being all passionate about studying Biology
Or stupid trigonometry.
I will get over you, just like I'll get over flowers,
Or Sasuke, or Zuko, or English.
They think I can't get over you?
I will get over you.
You still remind me of Saturn and Venus having a baby together,
That would have probably looked like you,
But they are just planets,
I don't like planets.
So I will get over you.
Just like that prince got over that beautiful girl he danced with until midnight,
Just like the sun gets over the moon every morning when she dies,
Just like Shakespeare got over his lover or Narcissus got over himself.
It's not that hard to get over you, come on.
I will get over you, as soon as I stop feeling.
I will get over you, okay?
Just not now.
Not today.
Not ever.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC