"repleted" poems - Hello Poetry

Bright babbling brook Meandering merrily along Cheerfully chuckling cheekily Singing summer’s song Cumulus nimbus climbing Sweeping shadows spread Grim greyness growing Dark daunting dread Sky suddenly shatters Violent visions form Titanic teardrops tumbling Savage summer storm Wild wind wailing Throwing thunderous threats Luminous lingering lightning Eerie electric effects Roaring raging river Searches, seeks, strains Bulging banks burst Punishing pristine plains Whirling water wasting Gyrating gurgling glee Repleted river relaxes Finally flowing, free

0

Jan 11, 2011

Jan 11, 2011 at 10:49 PM UTC

rhandom-rhymer

The Flood

Bright babbling brook Meandering merrily along Cheerfully chuckling cheekily Singing summer’s song Cumulus nimbus climbing Sweeping shadows spread Grim greyness growing Dark daunting dread Sky suddenly shatters Violent visions form Titanic teardrops tumbling Savage summer storm Wild wind wailing Throwing thunderous threats Luminous lingering lightning Eerie electric effects Roaring raging river Searches, seeks, strains Bulging banks burst Punishing pristine plains Whirling water wasting Gyrating gurgling glee Repleted river relaxes Finally flowing, free

24

It was a struggle. My body’s natural reaction to heartbreak, tears flooded my eyes, making it impossible to see what was right in front of me, but when the tears cleared and my vision was refined, I saw I wasn't the only one hurting. It was a struggle. But life was moving forward and I couldn't be left in the dust. Now I seemed fine, good even. But only I knew the conflict constantly streaming through my mind. It was an epic combat between my need to curl up in a ball and hide from the world and my egotistical want to put on a strong front. Eventually, after many battles between the two, I was okay again, just okay. My personality had adapted to deal with the pain, and now I was strong enough to leave the memories behind. The memories were repressed, but the feelings never left. All of those memories I had pushed to the back of my heart snapped back into place the second you kissed me. It felt like my life had been just a fraction of an inch off track and you made it slip right back into place. You always did have that effect on me. I was expecting for things to go back to the way they were but to my surprise, things were exceeding my expectations. Years had passed and we both changed, but the things that really mattered were indistinguishable. My love never faltered, even when the animosity seemed overwhelming. I knew hoped someday you would come back to me. Now we can start our life together. The perfect cadence we seem to be in gives me tremendous hope that we will make “forever” look meager. This is what we both want, to live a life completely repleted with affection and lust, and I am determined to make it happen. I’ve never been so confident in a feeling; this is all such a new feeling. Having you by my side will make my life completely whole. A family, a home, filled to the brim with happiness and joy. Perfection. March 29, 2013 1 year, 3 months, 6 days, 19 hours, 2 seconds.

0

Apr 26, 2013

Apr 26, 2013 at 2:41 PM UTC

kaity-morris

It was a struggle.

It was a struggle. My body’s natural reaction to heartbreak, tears flooded my eyes, making it impossible to see what was right in front of me, but when the tears cleared and my vision was refined, I saw I wasn't the only one hurting. It was a struggle. But life was moving forward and I couldn't be left in the dust. Now I seemed fine, good even. But only I knew the conflict constantly streaming through my mind. It was an epic combat between my need to curl up in a ball and hide from the world and my egotistical want to put on a strong front. Eventually, after many battles between the two, I was okay again, just okay. My personality had adapted to deal with the pain, and now I was strong enough to leave the memories behind. The memories were repressed, but the feelings never left. All of those memories I had pushed to the back of my heart snapped back into place the second you kissed me. It felt like my life had been just a fraction of an inch off track and you made it slip right back into place. You always did have that effect on me. I was expecting for things to go back to the way they were but to my surprise, things were exceeding my expectations. Years had passed and we both changed, but the things that really mattered were indistinguishable. My love never faltered, even when the animosity seemed overwhelming. I knew hoped someday you would come back to me. Now we can start our life together. The perfect cadence we seem to be in gives me tremendous hope that we will make “forever” look meager. This is what we both want, to live a life completely repleted with affection and lust, and I am determined to make it happen. I’ve never been so confident in a feeling; this is all such a new feeling. Having you by my side will make my life completely whole. A family, a home, filled to the brim with happiness and joy. Perfection. March 29, 2013 1 year, 3 months, 6 days, 19 hours, 2 seconds.

12

How did it feel? It was like my wings had been clipped, and I would wait patiently for them to grow back. Slowly and languidly, one feather at a time, until they were thoroughly repleted so that I could take flight and soar through the skies! Only to remember... I was still in the cage. - That's How It Felt

0

Feb 10, 2020

Feb 10, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC

juleslouise

A Question Answered

How did it feel? It was like my wings had been clipped, and I would wait patiently for them to grow back. Slowly and languidly, one feather at a time, until they were thoroughly repleted so that I could take flight and soar through the skies! Only to remember... I was still in the cage. - That's How It Felt

6

(For Sia Jane) once he wrote: "Writing is more important than any of the individual senses that feed this (writing) addiction. Without sound, sight, touch, smell and taste, I can (still) live quite well." and she loved this, for well she lived this ideation so textual emendation for this girl, one of god's human poems irony kick in the head, truth driven home by body of late, crossed and staked, weeks pass, I cannot taste or smell, eyesight distorted by streaming eyes, no matter, sight, sees only a decrepit man lousy repeating repetitiously older spasms of writing, all this time he is one who touches nothing lest he infect the world, with something other than joy... all thanks to some insidious bacterial invaders and one or two Lifetime Movie Channel dramas playing out in full color in his own sad reality so let me amend my prior write, for this time, I make no overly boastful claims, for I could pen nary a verse all these hours, that was deserved of your affection... write I could with any one of the five, if four were repleted, deleted, none elited, but one is this man's de minimus need at least one to function, to master the bronco impulse to create... don't matter which one, which orifice writes the code, all sensory inputs end up residing in your heart and soul but gotta have at least one in order to express my love for love... and if I can't do that, then experience shows, no way can the being supersede its thrumming, hum drumming, existence, motoring along highways circularized of watching old tv shows if I lose my hands I will write with elbows, nose or toes... my tongue cut, my mind will love more, its recollection of your taste, delicious twice over blinded and bereft, my mind's eye will do double shifts, get paid overtime, for reliving connecting your birthmarks my jesting muted, my seers closed, my nostrils sealed, even terminated, dare you think, that I cannot hear or smell my thoughts, of the pleasure of a world in which loves existence demands we heal the sick at heart, so we can extend love to ourselves and others beyond the mere limitations of our corporeal senses.... one, but one, all I need, any one, in order to sense who I am, to love, and be loved, therefore, to write

0

Sep 7, 2014

Sep 7, 2014 at 2:12 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

A New Poem: A Sense of Who You Are

(For Sia Jane) once he wrote: "Writing is more important than any of the individual senses that feed this (writing) addiction. Without sound, sight, touch, smell and taste, I can (still) live quite well." and she loved this, for well she lived this ideation so textual emendation for this girl, one of god's human poems irony kick in the head, truth driven home by body of late, crossed and staked, weeks pass, I cannot taste or smell, eyesight distorted by streaming eyes, no matter, sight, sees only a decrepit man lousy repeating repetitiously older spasms of writing, all this time he is one who touches nothing lest he infect the world, with something other than joy... all thanks to some insidious bacterial invaders and one or two Lifetime Movie Channel dramas playing out in full color in his own sad reality so let me amend my prior write, for this time, I make no overly boastful claims, for I could pen nary a verse all these hours, that was deserved of your affection... write I could with any one of the five, if four were repleted, deleted, none elited, but one is this man's de minimus need at least one to function, to master the bronco impulse to create... don't matter which one, which orifice writes the code, all sensory inputs end up residing in your heart and soul but gotta have at least one in order to express my love for love... and if I can't do that, then experience shows, no way can the being supersede its thrumming, hum drumming, existence, motoring along highways circularized of watching old tv shows if I lose my hands I will write with elbows, nose or toes... my tongue cut, my mind will love more, its recollection of your taste, delicious twice over blinded and bereft, my mind's eye will do double shifts, get paid overtime, for reliving connecting your birthmarks my jesting muted, my seers closed, my nostrils sealed, even terminated, dare you think, that I cannot hear or smell my thoughts, of the pleasure of a world in which loves existence demands we heal the sick at heart, so we can extend love to ourselves and others beyond the mere limitations of our corporeal senses.... one, but one, all I need, any one, in order to sense who I am, to love, and be loved, therefore, to write

66

It is a different world out there. Where life is broken down into its elementary notion To something very elementary, that it starts to get eerie. Like something as simple as a piece of paper becomes atoms and molecules, Out there, men become a labyrinth of monoliths, Painted in a shade of skin and made of bones. These labyrinths are often carried by trench-coats, Accompanied by trousers and shoes. Out there is filled with scattered food for the birds Scattered by the rhythmic motion of a wrinkled hand Out there is repleted with hours waiting by the window For things that don’t exist, or choose not to exist. A world filled with nothing, nothing at all. A world so big, bigger than you can imagine. It is quite intuitive, for nothing Except nothingness exists in such large numbers.

0

Jan 27, 2015

Jan 27, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC

usandthem42

Somewhere out there

It is a different world out there. Where life is broken down into its elementary notion To something very elementary, that it starts to get eerie. Like something as simple as a piece of paper becomes atoms and molecules, Out there, men become a labyrinth of monoliths, Painted in a shade of skin and made of bones. These labyrinths are often carried by trench-coats, Accompanied by trousers and shoes. Out there is filled with scattered food for the birds Scattered by the rhythmic motion of a wrinkled hand Out there is repleted with hours waiting by the window For things that don’t exist, or choose not to exist. A world filled with nothing, nothing at all. A world so big, bigger than you can imagine. It is quite intuitive, for nothing Except nothingness exists in such large numbers.

16

completely repleted undulations stake their claim to hold this form with puppet strings that run beneath a fevered storm only just encompassed struggles to escape the will to deconstruct and replace the missing parts thunder shakes the earth both lullaby and curse something sleeps and something stirs the metaphor within my eyes slithers like a worm disquieting surprise mildly disturbed infantile arms grasping towards the sun endeavor to dissever all the light and see what it becomes emaciated fingers reach into my eye drag the key out from behind and touch it to the sky strings like water from the heavens pour now to weave the web and forge the other door from the mist ascends the opening where hands of chaos play with broken things the skin i'm in then ruptures and the captive staggers forth to disestablish all i am let the fragments be woven in the fabric to stretch forever more

0

Aug 9, 2014

Aug 9, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC

art-fredericks

fabricated undulations

completely repleted undulations stake their claim to hold this form with puppet strings that run beneath a fevered storm only just encompassed struggles to escape the will to deconstruct and replace the missing parts thunder shakes the earth both lullaby and curse something sleeps and something stirs the metaphor within my eyes slithers like a worm disquieting surprise mildly disturbed infantile arms grasping towards the sun endeavor to dissever all the light and see what it becomes emaciated fingers reach into my eye drag the key out from behind and touch it to the sky strings like water from the heavens pour now to weave the web and forge the other door from the mist ascends the opening where hands of chaos play with broken things the skin i'm in then ruptures and the captive staggers forth to disestablish all i am let the fragments be woven in the fabric to stretch forever more

48

The pain will never go away Like raindrops on my cheeks Flash flood, into a raging river Rushing off my face; Waterfall, A grief-stricken cascade The pain will never go away Weak with ailing vertigo Swaying back and forth Only to be stationary; Rotting, A slow and steady decay The pain will never go away Raging war, of the internal kind Dolefulness claims it's crown Contentment held captive Like the Seventh Crusade The pain will never go away No light insight, Deep in the woods Like the blackness On a new moon night; Cold One degree centigrade The pain will never go away Hollowed, repleted with agony Gray, A bleakness Never truly described; This The obscureness of dolor's grenade It will never go away

0

Dec 20, 2017

Dec 20, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC

MoonsLight

Dolor's Grenade

The pain will never go away Like raindrops on my cheeks Flash flood, into a raging river Rushing off my face; Waterfall, A grief-stricken cascade The pain will never go away Weak with ailing vertigo Swaying back and forth Only to be stationary; Rotting, A slow and steady decay The pain will never go away Raging war, of the internal kind Dolefulness claims it's crown Contentment held captive Like the Seventh Crusade The pain will never go away No light insight, Deep in the woods Like the blackness On a new moon night; Cold One degree centigrade The pain will never go away Hollowed, repleted with agony Gray, A bleakness Never truly described; This The obscureness of dolor's grenade It will never go away

26

Forseeth thick words Vacivity, bag of slurs Sorrow now repleted Friends seem conceited Slowly the dark panels white Suspense from the absence of you dies Ever since i was garnished in trice Into royal blue skies Oft, you hide in your little dome Its blatant, you're pretty foul You are a pendulum, overblown Oft, aware of your blandishments Broken locks, I've seen bones bend Its your frost white heart, it's the clothes you are in

0

May 3, 2016

May 3, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC

okwhatever

Royal blue

Forseeth thick words Vacivity, bag of slurs Sorrow now repleted Friends seem conceited Slowly the dark panels white Suspense from the absence of you dies Ever since i was garnished in trice Into royal blue skies Oft, you hide in your little dome Its blatant, you're pretty foul You are a pendulum, overblown Oft, aware of your blandishments Broken locks, I've seen bones bend Its your frost white heart, it's the clothes you are in

14

As I fade, into this night of broken dreams, I envision our souls repleted in heavenly wisdom, devoid of hate, for you I feign. And though I dream, I lie awake, alone with each breath I nervously take. Oh! How I wish you could see, the changes you have made of me. For surely you would know that our love, was never once a game to me.

0

Jan 8, 2013

Jan 8, 2013 at 7:20 AM UTC

jake-stewart

Insomnia

As I fade, into this night of broken dreams, I envision our souls repleted in heavenly wisdom, devoid of hate, for you I feign. And though I dream, I lie awake, alone with each breath I nervously take. Oh! How I wish you could see, the changes you have made of me. For surely you would know that our love, was never once a game to me.

9

Surrogate Country our politics resemble The human centipede Dying respect Hostility from Both sides The people divide amongst each other It’s not The politicians fault Ashe to Ashe Dust to dust In God we trust In blind faith we rust I’m a punk Singing rock and jazz Railing against everyone With a political placebo Or a falsly repleted libido This country I love These dumb ***** I ******* loathe I start loving When their words and conversations Don’t have an agenda You can take my life But I’ll die bleeding every Inch, word, and ounce Of my integrity

0

May 23, 2019

May 23, 2019 at 12:54 PM UTC

AspirationsAchieved2019

BLEEDING INTEGRITY

Surrogate Country our politics resemble The human centipede Dying respect Hostility from Both sides The people divide amongst each other It’s not The politicians fault Ashe to Ashe Dust to dust In God we trust In blind faith we rust I’m a punk Singing rock and jazz Railing against everyone With a political placebo Or a falsly repleted libido This country I love These dumb ***** I ******* loathe I start loving When their words and conversations Don’t have an agenda You can take my life But I’ll die bleeding every Inch, word, and ounce Of my integrity

29

Light touch On my lips Violent feelings erupt, when your hands dance their way to my hips Entwined bodies, ecstatic, elated Repleted and exquisitely Sated

0

Aug 26, 2018

Aug 26, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC

jackie-mead

Lovers

Light touch On my lips Violent feelings erupt, when your hands dance their way to my hips Entwined bodies, ecstatic, elated Repleted and exquisitely Sated

6

will you come? and grieve with me in the moonlight mourn life that is fleeting in the bright night for i am a shadow of the world a decaying source of life bound by lack of dimension will you go? and leave me here before the sunrise where i can await a painless demise for i am only an empty space to be repleted a husk of something that truly is what i can never be and will you return? over again each time i am revived blessing me with you truthful eyes for so long have i been a prisoner to the wicked and contriving minds of those who breathe hunger and exhale lies so, you see as a victim of gilded oppression and sickened orderly obsessions the true question i reveal in confession will you flee and take me with you?

0

Aug 7, 2014

Aug 7, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC

art-fredericks

Untitled

will you come? and grieve with me in the moonlight mourn life that is fleeting in the bright night for i am a shadow of the world a decaying source of life bound by lack of dimension will you go? and leave me here before the sunrise where i can await a painless demise for i am only an empty space to be repleted a husk of something that truly is what i can never be and will you return? over again each time i am revived blessing me with you truthful eyes for so long have i been a prisoner to the wicked and contriving minds of those who breathe hunger and exhale lies so, you see as a victim of gilded oppression and sickened orderly obsessions the true question i reveal in confession will you flee and take me with you?

24