Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"sneakily" poems
Sapphic sapphires glisten in the moon These ladies say that Hades makes them as dry as a sand dune Maleficent and Cruella mark their spells on their heads And quietly they tiptoe and sneakily their treads- Move with a rhythm only grace can create Enchanting are these women, seeing them is fate To be an audience member to their auras and their moves Is an opportunity that is divine, spiritually proved Indigo in color, L words leave their lips Straight and curvy bones and fat   vibrate from their hips They mesmerize, they enchant, they let their inhibitions soar Until they dance away, unhinged, and you can't see them anymore Remember this encounter, it is one that will inspire It will make you feel a type of way, it will ignite a fire
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
Ode to Sappho
I am pure subjectivity I am objectivity contained by a brain I am an entity Inside a body I control my limbs And my organs control me The apparatus for my entity I am a being that seeks understanding While remembering who I stand under Those who sneakily seek to plunder The developing enigmatic wonder In my mind's torturous tundra My mind uses my body as a slave But is also a slave to the shame Of my body's interactions Within marginalized factions There is a fight between the two Like the fights between me and you My body won't quit when my mind is through And my mind stays conscious while my body is blue So I'm stuck in a deadlock With a mentality of bedrock Once I cease to be human I can be the perfect judge When my emotions won't budge I'll see things the way most organisms do Inside this zoo Animals have the flu And give it to each other When we communicate through pain The flu actually seems tame Compared to your game Of taking humanity And leaving an entity After you entered me My somber soul left Because of personality theft My mind moves my arms To block the pain My mind moves my feet To do the same Yet I lost these advantages When I had to walk too far My life only got more hard After experiencing your entropy I became a disembodied entity
0
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Entity
Wearing comfortable clothing is what I desire And if that is a purple g-string with a pair of high rise low cut shorts You best say "good morning" And if that is a pair of bell bottom jeans that do not press tight against my hips with a long sleeve pink sweater You ought to say “good afternoon” If I please sugar in my coffee or no coffee but instead a warm swif of chamomile tea you best hand me the cup and show brotherly love to your sister If in my womb a child grows or I decide It does not grow You ought to stand by me but you best leave that choice to me
0
Dec 29, 2021
Dec 29, 2021 at 9:34 AM UTC
Reminders when you sneakily try to take my rights away
What happened to our avocado tree? I remember when it was vibrant and lively When lizards would sneakily climb up the trunk And birds would blend with leaves, Blissfully chirping, wanting love to be sung To the world in which we would run Encapsulated in our backyard That we thought would stretch as far As our imaginations. But it was really just a prison And that tree... That beautiful, wondrous tree Was our sign that we were free Wanting to climb up as far as we could reach. It seemed to scrape the moon And the nights were always gone too soon, Losing all of our wishes to the sun When the morning would come. Evaporating into reality, We grew up and it started withering. In our teens, killing flower buds Smoking all the weeds, Not getting enough hugs. We'd find comfort in its leaves. Hiding from the devil in smoke and memories Of our avocado tree. Then we had to leave, Ripped apart from all we loved My childhood home, all the feelings that have grown Like vines, like veins branching out against the walls. Remember the old days when we thought that there was hope? We didn't know that we were so dysfunctional Everything good is gone, And we've ended up all alone. Down to three withered leaves clinging to a dying tree. My avocado tree, Remember me? In my mind eternally. -SLuR
0
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 4:11 PM UTC
Avocado tree.
So there was this boy He somehow kinda managed to steal my heart Without even trying He intrigued me I began observing and seeing more than he let on And slowly but surely, the compassion grew Along with the lust, desire and craving of all things him. It's been a couple of months now And I lay here in bed thinking about how dumb I am to have let it get this bad How could you let someone control you So sneakily Without even needing the puppet strings All it took was the touch of his skin against mine, the smiles, the glances That's all it took for my chest to burn a fire so bright Melting my heart And I was a goner. Now the chase is over You know how I feel And you're waiting for me to beg for more Act needy? I think not I see how this will end. Though the clouds are still grey The rain spitting And the storm rumbling There is ALWAYS A rainbow And a sunny day that awaits So keep your chin up, little girl And wear your pride on your chest Bc this bullshitting ******* Is no different from the rest
0
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
The chase
There is a kingdom that resides in the sky, Whose cool demeanor hold all upon high, There be darkness within these walls, Shadows to cause all to fall, King makes his decrees, Assasins plan sneakily, Bell of thunder, Of loud dismay, Upon this altar, Demons will rise, To waylay all plights, With great surprise, Silence, Then screams, Innocence screams, Terribly so, But here comes the hero, Bobbing to and fro, Slash right then left, Block left then right, Sword clangs ring out, Complete silence all about, The darkness is dead, Laid upon the battlefield, Bled, All will mourn the lost, Was it worth the cost, Peace throughout the land, The king rewarded the merry man, With fire, And a wooden stand, Burned at the stake, A heroic man
0
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 8:51 PM UTC
Corruption Kills
So there was this boy He somehow kinda managed to steal my heart Without even trying He intrigued me I began observing and seeing more than he let on And slowly but surely, the compassion grew Along with the lust, desire and craving of all things him. It's been a couple of months now And I lay here in bed thinking about how dumb I am to have let it get this bad How could you let someone control you So sneakily Without even needing the puppet strings All it took was the touch of his skin against mine, the smiles, the glances That's all it took for my chest to burn a fire so bright Melting my heart And I was a goner. Now the chase is over You know how I feel And you're waiting for me to beg for more Act needy? I think not I see how this will end. Though the clouds are still grey The rain spitting And the storm rumbling There is ALWAYS A rainbow And a sunny day that awaits So keep your chin up, little girl And wear your pride on your chest Bc this bullshitting ******* Is no different from the rest
0
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
Needing you
Depression My old friend Oh my, oh my Where have you been You creep back into me Ever so sneakily. How i wish, we can make amends After all this time spent My old friend, You cut me open Then stitch me closed. My tears flow and flow Scars open Bleeding out into the unknown. Then, Just like that You shut me off. Disassociated, Now I am numb To the bone. My old friend, It is either all or nothing with you. Well I am sick Of having to come up with reasons Of why I am not feeling well. I’m through with you. Out, Out, Gone be. You are not me. I will not be defined by the lies you shout and whisper to me. My old friend, you will not take me with you I have worked too hard, Towards light, To stay on my own path. My mind has blossomed and my heart has been watered You will not **** me dry. Leave me, Leave me Let me be. -k.c
0
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 1:14 PM UTC
My old friend, depression
The shadows move slowly Sneakily So you don't notice them. The shadows move quietly Leaking into your subconscious And eating you from the inside. They leak into your thoughts Poisoning your mind with dreams of pain Hate They slowly move to cover your face They slowly move to cover your mind They silently strike And poison your soul. A shadow creeps into your mind even now Seeding the painful thoughts and actions Which will drive you to hurt yourself and others. Ruining a day for no reason at all Forcing a night into sleepless torment Always next to you Always surrounding you Hiding from the light Owning the night. Fight these shadows Drive them away with joy Love Light Happiness Compliments Laughs Lazy days in the sun Kisses Fight these shadows And rid the world as best you can.
0
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
Shadows
"it was a long time ago" he says as he hides his tears with a grin she asks, "Are you okay?" he grins, he lets out a failed laugh, he lies she sees straight through his act she asks, "Are you okay?" tears swelling in the corners of his eyes, he lies she waits for them to be wiped away sneakily she asks, "Are you okay?" he looks her in the eye, using all his strength he lies she says she believes him, she breaks eye contact she asks, "Are you sure? It's okay if you aren't" he shakes his head, he falls towards her embrace, "I'm sorry for being so difficult" he says vulnerably she says, "When are you going to move on" and turns her back to him and leaves as he cries alone in the dark
0
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 3:37 PM UTC
"It was a long time ago" -
one thousand and one percent of the time i'm tapped out of rhythm and straining to rhyme i make up impossible stories and wish they were mine and since they aren't, sometimes, i think i'd rather die than live in a world where second class citizens are people who are more connected to their emotions than me and you who can't love who they love and instead have to lie to get a good job or a role in society we act like being who you are is actually a crime, you see, you must be the norm for your family to be proud there isn't a place here for people who're loud you've got to jump on the bandwagon and be part of the crowd there are no OPINIONS if you're not rich, male or white called bossy or cruel when you have a bit of a bite it's wrong apologizing for our daughters when on the playground they rule beg pardon for her inherited superior leadership tool because we may not realize that this is a good thing, we've become ignorant of stereotypes, they've been ingrained into our brains and the sad part is, no matter how much time passes, they are almost sure to remain, for our sakes and our childrens', society needs to CHANGE. OKAY HERE'S PART TWO BUT IT'S NOT DONE SO.... optional (i would write more of this but i gave up, never going to be finished basically and it's really bad and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT) thank god the media is finally beginning to see our ways as strange yet we still indirectly promote [anorexia, bulimia], shove it down each other's throats advertising is a thing we cannot afford to misquote, we may see the greedy product givers but our children do not, our girls and our boys, they are sneakily taught that you cannot be content, cannot be happy on your own, they need to do what others do, you must buy this to be good, there is no way in this world that you ever could, be empowered, successful and handsome at once, you must have perfect skin and a nice weave to match, your own hair is _______, in public it falls flat
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
1001% (spoken word)
one thousand and one percent of the time i'm tapped out of rhythm and straining to rhyme i make up impossible stories and wish they were mine and since they aren't, sometimes, i think i'd rather die than live in a world where second class citizens are people who are more connected to their emotions than me and you who can't love who they love and instead have to lie to get a good job or a role in society we act like being who you are is actually a crime, you see, you must be the norm for your family to be proud there isn't a place here for people who're loud you've got to jump on the bandwagon and be part of the crowd there are no OPINIONS if you're not rich, male or white called bossy or cruel when you have a bit of a bite it's wrong apologizing for our daughters when on the playground they rule beg pardon for her inherited superior leadership tool because we may not realize that this is a good thing, we've become ignorant of stereotypes, they've been ingrained into our brains and the sad part is, no matter how much time passes, they are almost sure to remain, for our sakes and our childrens', society needs to CHANGE. OKAY HERE'S PART TWO BUT IT'S NOT DONE SO.... optional (i would write more of this but i gave up, never going to be finished basically and it's really bad and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT) thank god the media is finally beginning to see our ways as strange yet we still indirectly promote [anorexia, bulimia], shove it down each other's throats advertising is a thing we cannot afford to misquote, we may see the greedy product givers but our children do not, our girls and our boys, they are sneakily taught that you cannot be content, cannot be happy on your own, they need to do what others do, you must buy this to be good, there is no way in this world that you ever could, be empowered, successful and handsome at once, you must have perfect skin and a nice weave to match, your own hair is _______, in public it falls flat
Continue reading...
33
there are too many hours of the day that I am awake for; twenty-four is a number I have come to dread. I hate that I'm rolling around for hours and hours, watching the colours shift across the sky from one agonising hour to the other when I'm trapped in this body, this brain, this mind, this me. i hate the fact that an empty echoing house is all that I have to come back to and that my worst nightmares are my every day realities; just me, awake, all day, all night, *all alone in this ******* world.* i hate that the warm body and warmer soul I want to make love to in whose arms I want to spend every night - wants nothing but return to the comfort of his own bed, leaving me to battle another ****** night with the demons that devour my brain. i hate that for every twenty seconds of sleep I sneakily ****** i'm made to pay through weeks of wakefullness that settles heavily into my muscles and my bones leaving me aching and restless, making survival a struggle and not a goal. I hate this. there are too many hours of the day that I am awake for - i want to be awake for none at all.
0
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
insomnia, you heartless *****
Broken lines dangle between Vital voices at Waterloo. Slick Rick on one end, Skips and laughs- Parading his mangled heart On his crookedly stolen stick- Draws circles with it Around a blinking fire That has risen, Around some bush. Olive sits firmly, Scissors in hand, Eyes shut, palms to the skies, Though, She skips and laughs sneakily, Crying out, please, oh Popeye, Save me! Having slipped out of the bind, Rick put her in. 6 Silver bunnies, With empty pockets, Sit, twitching On gold mine expenses, Looking for those who will come With precious carrots, Once word spreads of their Glinting furs.
0
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 4:53 PM UTC
6 Silver Bunnies At Waterloo
Shed light beam - scattered amidst shadowing December and shallow compliment of gathered mass. Bright moonlight stills the whispering vapors where you once left beaten sneakers, football cards, and smelly socks. This view from there where you once played your guitar; the hole in the screen remains where filtered smoke poured out the window from the bubbling drag of natures antiquity. Science was only existent in an ancient alchemy. Laughter came easiest while dreams remained bountiful and attainably tucked in the future projects folder before collecting thick layers of dust beneath well wishing and inaction; just feed now for the annoying perpetual adolescence that holds me down with regret. Weighty concerns finally crept up slow and sneakily like a strong dose of LSD on a school night. Laughter becomes tears. This weight is mine and can only be carried by me. Why do those that I sought for direction seem so lost? Who am I if not the one who walked in the room? No one but me. Only I can answer that. The answer comes and goes. Heartbreak can shatter an ego like nothing else. I still love you all. Thank you. Forgive me.
0
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
Meandering in A room with Black Lights
I closed my eyes and I saw her face! A face that left a trace in lost soul! I closed my eyes and I saw her black hair sliding on the side! A face I thought I would be able of keeping away from my soul! Sneakily... I'm watching her hands reaching sky! Eagerly ... I'm thinking when I would have that time with her! Jealously... I'm seeing her talking with others! She came from nowhere! Yet she placed that trembling in corners of my silence! I counted minutes…….to see her face! I folded scenes to hear her voice! I held my pen to write… and I kept my ink silent! I can’t say her name! I can’t move towards her asking who are you! I couldn’t look at her eyes! I couldn’t dare and ask her what do you want to say! I just hugged her and moved away! Turning pages into rest! And…. The Chapter not yet closed!
0
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
When I close my eyes!
Glimpsing her bathing on the roof, He averted his eyes and looked away. Wondering if his eyes remembered her beauty correctly, He sneakily took a short glance to see clearly. And that was all it took for King David, Who gazed upon the wife of his own soldier. Lured by a glimpse, Hooked by a glance, Swallowed by a gaze, He didn't know the steep cost to be paid.
0
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
Glimpse Glance Gaze
Once upon a time At a middle school They decided That we didn't need 48 minutes Of lunch (Even Though We Do) And now we have LS (Which stands for Learning Seminar) ((Even Though We Never Learn anything)) And they Sneakily Subtracted Eighteen Minutes From Teen Wolves Shoveling Food into Their mouths To sit Quietly In a room And read.
0
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
LS
My mama’s shoes, Fit my feet too snug, now, For me to look cute, still, slippin’ them on. I’ve no need of her lipstick, nor her raspberry rouge, To make my face look, more, like hers does. I’m a big, daddy’s girl, who has known the world, But, not quite enough to really fit in. -- I still heart, Sunshine and rosies, And, playin’ with mah toesies - Eatin’ froot loops and pokin’ at roly poly’s, Makin’ colourful cupcakes, covered in sweet gummies, To eat inside forts filled with last winter’s lights, Too, Eatin’ Caramel Delights, sneakily, Stolen, in spite - of the weight, I was fightin’ so easily. -- Perhaps, When the adults are all done - playin’ house, for fun, I’ll bring my cookies from the fort, to the table. We’ll have coffee and speak of the stats, For the week and laugh about, Hart's becoming unstable. And, I shall wear loafers, That pinch at my, Toesies that fidget, Crazily, Beneath my seat.
0
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 4:46 PM UTC
Little Lady
I am a waste of life life is wasted on me they called me friend yet I would see them bend break their rules and heads for someone who wets the bed in the midst of chaos I lose their grip this hand from left excuses me a slip oh sweet pain! you return at last I like to bleed the sear of a wound dripping crimson ink lightens the burden absolves my guilt or so I feel it drain my sins silently, along with memories under showers where no one will see I lie still, remembering why it makes perfect sense in the moment the incision will be subtle, but deep enough to hurt and spill from I will disguise my face so no one can know the obvious truth that lurks beneath this skin of glee I should have been accustomed to losing what I love and care about even if they mean nothing, I'd still want them around It's harder than it looks to let go wound around my fingers, the strings, cutting into them and I pull, I still pull, till the bleeding is a norm but eventually they'll take my fingers along and I will fall, not from pride, or high but gall, against myself into pity and apathy sneakily creeping through the silences I'll look for resolve in darker things and wither in the light of regret until the next string breaks and the cycle begins again.
0
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:35 AM UTC
8th circle of hell
Touring the cities of England and the UK Back of a transit van, rocking up to anywhere that paid The brothers Grimm and their trusty cohorts Bonehead on rhythm, McCarroll on drums, Guigsy up to all sorts That gig at the Wah Wah, King Tuts to be precise Glasgow you beauty, **** the next show up in Fife The man that found them, a mister Alan McGee A Britpop revolution, all great memories They came and most failed, that one gig on Top of The Pops Menswear to Mansun and an array of rank haircuts where the seagulls did flock We had the trendies in Camden all hanging around on their scooters with parka’s Noel or Liam and that fella from Echobelly, anything to be famous and get on the telly But then the times must end and it all turned a little sour A few trudged on with an album or two, the Manics to Cast and the lyrics from John Power Patsy and Liam had that cover on the front of Vanity Fair Draped in Britannia, divorce on the cards, strange how no-one now cares Good times they were without a worry in the world and a now gone era Euro 96, Southgate’s miss and those goals from Teddy and Shearer A time well remembered and days I’d love to see back If not only for the music but for the not caring and the unforeseen great craic Not to hate the now as times move on But a day in the past, served at seventeen and to claim you were the one Not to be asked I.D. and sneakily drink that Stella laughing at the bar, king of the blaggers, not to be served again by that same fella Before the phone and the apps, we used to meet face to face Girl at the bar, a bit of blarney and a home number to suit, always up for the chase Do you ring tomorrow and who’s going to answer Her mum might be alright, but her dad could be a ****** I couldn’t imagine doing it all again now Swipe left to say no or right to give it a go Seems inhuman to me not to spark up a chat But maybe that’s just me, stuck in past, I’m just old hat. JJB
0
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
Kid of the Nineties
Touring the cities of England and the UK Back of a transit van, rocking up to anywhere that paid The brothers Grimm and their trusty cohorts Bonehead on rhythm, McCarroll on drums, Guigsy up to all sorts That gig at the Wah Wah, King Tuts to be precise Glasgow you beauty, **** the next show up in Fife The man that found them, a mister Alan McGee A Britpop revolution, all great memories They came and most failed, that one gig on Top of The Pops Menswear to Mansun and an array of rank haircuts where the seagulls did flock We had the trendies in Camden all hanging around on their scooters with parka’s Noel or Liam and that fella from Echobelly, anything to be famous and get on the telly But then the times must end and it all turned a little sour A few trudged on with an album or two, the Manics to Cast and the lyrics from John Power Patsy and Liam had that cover on the front of Vanity Fair Draped in Britannia, divorce on the cards, strange how no-one now cares Good times they were without a worry in the world and a now gone era Euro 96, Southgate’s miss and those goals from Teddy and Shearer A time well remembered and days I’d love to see back If not only for the music but for the not caring and the unforeseen great craic Not to hate the now as times move on But a day in the past, served at seventeen and to claim you were the one Not to be asked I.D. and sneakily drink that Stella laughing at the bar, king of the blaggers, not to be served again by that same fella Before the phone and the apps, we used to meet face to face Girl at the bar, a bit of blarney and a home number to suit, always up for the chase Do you ring tomorrow and who’s going to answer Her mum might be alright, but her dad could be a ****** I couldn’t imagine doing it all again now Swipe left to say no or right to give it a go Seems inhuman to me not to spark up a chat But maybe that’s just me, stuck in past, I’m just old hat. JJB
Continue reading...
33
some mornings even my hair seems to behave, when i don't need it to -- like weather or feelings.                          after today, i was content. i finally got my bed just the way i like it, settled in, surrounded by cush, and plush and (dead insects)                             despite     a growing discomfort in my belly, i'm still fine; saltine remedy, mint tea                               potion. a lovely girl asked                 me to catch dreams for her. of course i will, in jars like fireflies, natural lanterns to light up your imagination.                              but the           aching in my belly     seems intent on staying until addressed appropriately-- sneakily                 creeping up on me like adolescent shenanigans-- acknowledgement is reminiscence, the kind you don't fancy at 1:00 am. so i mulled it over, going home; like a kick in the shins, it made me realize that the little place in me, maybe a vein or vesicle, is still missing.                it used to be an ***** a limb; in months it shrank to an extremity, a digit, finally infinitesimal-- but still missing.      (now) i'm having trouble                 making my peace with the fact that you'll have that artery, or capillary, or soul atom for awhile or forever, maybe. but i think, i posit in fact, perhaps by march, a few months more, i'll forget and be able to say "it's yours."
0
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 4:45 AM UTC
for me, and for you/my sweet
some mornings even my hair seems to behave, when i don't need it to -- like weather or feelings.                          after today, i was content. i finally got my bed just the way i like it, settled in, surrounded by cush, and plush and (dead insects)                             despite     a growing discomfort in my belly, i'm still fine; saltine remedy, mint tea                               potion. a lovely girl asked                 me to catch dreams for her. of course i will, in jars like fireflies, natural lanterns to light up your imagination.                              but the           aching in my belly     seems intent on staying until addressed appropriately-- sneakily                 creeping up on me like adolescent shenanigans-- acknowledgement is reminiscence, the kind you don't fancy at 1:00 am. so i mulled it over, going home; like a kick in the shins, it made me realize that the little place in me, maybe a vein or vesicle, is still missing.                it used to be an ***** a limb; in months it shrank to an extremity, a digit, finally infinitesimal-- but still missing.      (now) i'm having trouble                 making my peace with the fact that you'll have that artery, or capillary, or soul atom for awhile or forever, maybe. but i think, i posit in fact, perhaps by march, a few months more, i'll forget and be able to say "it's yours."
Continue reading...
62
Covering, smothering your land like a shroud; sneakily, silently, making not a sound. Don't panic, don't hide, don't try to disappear, don't even try to flee - it is of no use, my dear. Ghostly, ethereal, otherworldly, unholy; there can't be light without darkness - THIS was His folly. So hearken! Ye holymen! Hearken! Ye sinners! Hearken! Ye losers! Hearken! Ye winners! Hark now here, beings of white, black and red: where do you run to when Earth wants you dead. . .?
0
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 12:07 AM UTC
The Fog