Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"steadies" poems
The old man paints seashells for all of the women he has loved. He takes his husky for walks along the beach, returning with a bag of **** and a collection of spirals and fans, still pregnant with the whispers of the ocean. By the window, he licks his brush and steadies his nervous hands. He will share a steak with the dog, and wonder when the best company became inanimate or at most; unspeaking. He had long turned his back on Dylan and Cohen, in favour of empty sound and the rain hitting the tarp in the garden. He recalls Diane and the green of life in her poetry. Louise, the blue of her moods and the sea. Each woman had coloured his life in hopeful hues, oh, and what a mess he was in their absence. (even the dog wouldn't sleep beside him) The old man drew his last breath when the silence became deafening. When he realised he could not reclaim memories through art, or through the patient analysis of nature. There was no shape or colour that had not been created before.
0
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
Painting Seashells
Sometimes I dream I'm floating Weightless throughout space With this thought my heart beat steadies It dark up here in outer space I don't know how to get back home but that's ok It's cold up here in outer space So cold it makes my skin turn grey my hair comes out here in outer space? Something's not adding up It's supposed to be lovely in outer space I’m far from home and i am cold This isn't peace This isn't beautiful This is prison This is hell This is an eating disorder
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Outer space
A single helical strand twists randomly in the wind All that steadies the twisting are the aetheric strings Connected to base pairs...adenine...thymine... Those strings steady the storms But where do they lead Where any path leads of course And our destination is always our Self That's how we know when we've arrived We mirror back to our other Self exactly what We are Adenine's other self is thymine We live in duality Until we're ready to leave that duality and become... who we are Non-dual Citizens of Gaia
0
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC
The Dance of the Double Helix
_Let me fall Deeply into the heart Of the wanderer, Under the dappled skin Into the belly of the thing Heavy and warm; The hermit and the outcast Is met in me By the stomp of a hoof, The shifting Of weight As he steadies himself; I look down at my feet Aware of toes and heels Colliding with the ground._
0
Feb 21, 2022
Feb 21, 2022 at 3:51 PM UTC
Cherokee
When I think back to the past, my memories seem to blur together as if I have spent twenty one years on a non-stop merry-go-round. Ups and downs, too much to take in at once, the people you love only a splotch in your spinning, ever-changing field of vision. You wonder how long they’ll stay, leaning over the metal railing separating them from you; you wonder if they’ll call out to you until they become hoarse…but no one stays for long. You think it’s fun and harmless until the carousel stops and you realize you’re the only one left. You clamber off the platform in a drunken stagger and wait for your mind, still caught up in the whimsical whir of charisma and carelessness, to catch up with reality. Eventually your thoughts slow and your vision steadies. Everything comes into focus. It seems eerily quiet compared to the cacophony of conversation and carnival music that was swirling and intertwining in the air just minutes ago. Now there’s silence and you’re left to contemplate your past…and your future. This is the reality check, the wakeup call that sends so many adolescents into a panic; an early mid-life crisis if you will. Twenty one years spent so quickly, so carelessly…only eighty more to go. And you can only wonder, “How will I waste those?”
0
Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
Infinite Carousel [a vignette]
A master magician at hiding While running and gallantly striding Your message is strong, you gallop along With spirit continually guiding Independent you move with the group Making headway you learn to recoup Ready to bolt, to rebel and revolt If your light should get caught in a loop Your harmony steadies in trouble A clean break away from all struggle Lessons are taught, even when you're distraught As you truly embrace them and juggle When problems arise in the east skies You remember the sun also dies And though it falls down, it comes back around To greet us the next day with bright eyes Spirit Zebra be with us to find Let our strength and our courage unwind Into all of the holes, deep in our souls That we carry throughout our lifetime Teach us patience to love every side So that we may enjoy how we ride Some days we will glow, some days will be low Love will teach us to rise not subside To see everything, just as it is To live the truth of this regardless Return stronger yet, from any upset With a chance for new growth and progress You teach us to seek balance and truth Till the end of our days from our youth Standing confidently, strong as can be Building skills that will calm us and soothe With every step forward we've taken Your wisdom unfolds and awakens All of our needs, teach us how to succeed Good or bad, we shall not be mistaken We are shifting between light and dark We are always igniting the spark A few steps gone back, will put us on track With pure faith we will soon disembark tHE tERRY tREE Photo | Google Images | Poetic Form | Gwawdodyn
0
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Spirit Zebra
A master magician at hiding While running and gallantly striding Your message is strong, you gallop along With spirit continually guiding Independent you move with the group Making headway you learn to recoup Ready to bolt, to rebel and revolt If your light should get caught in a loop Your harmony steadies in trouble A clean break away from all struggle Lessons are taught, even when you're distraught As you truly embrace them and juggle When problems arise in the east skies You remember the sun also dies And though it falls down, it comes back around To greet us the next day with bright eyes Spirit Zebra be with us to find Let our strength and our courage unwind Into all of the holes, deep in our souls That we carry throughout our lifetime Teach us patience to love every side So that we may enjoy how we ride Some days we will glow, some days will be low Love will teach us to rise not subside To see everything, just as it is To live the truth of this regardless Return stronger yet, from any upset With a chance for new growth and progress You teach us to seek balance and truth Till the end of our days from our youth Standing confidently, strong as can be Building skills that will calm us and soothe With every step forward we've taken Your wisdom unfolds and awakens All of our needs, teach us how to succeed Good or bad, we shall not be mistaken We are shifting between light and dark We are always igniting the spark A few steps gone back, will put us on track With pure faith we will soon disembark tHE tERRY tREE Photo | Google Images | Poetic Form | Gwawdodyn
Continue reading...
42
Chills coursing through my body. The crickets are giving the eulogy to my passion for you. You are the only one who can **** me but keep the blood running like ice through my veins. You are the only one who can drive off and leave in the dead of night and I'll stay right where you left me. I'll stay and I'll wait. I'm waiting. I'm right here. Physically im gone, I went in the house and am faking a smile for my friends, telling them you were too tired to stay out any longer, lying on behalf of my hope for us to survive. Mentally there's a pile of my bones made out of all of our hopes and dreams, lying on the sidewalk right where you left me. I stuck them there with the thick glue made up of all of your lies to me, all of the broken promises. So there my spirit is, stuck in that spot, shivering and blurry eyed from ***** infused tear drops. You tell me that's just not how it is anymore, not how you feel. But when you look at me, lighting, it's a storm coming in over the horizon and the moon is screaming through the clouds and the trees are ripping in the wind and there we are, just in a bubble, floating through this nightmare. And you take my hand, and put it over your heart. Your heart beat steadies mine. Just one look my love, one look. One look silences the noise and calms my heart. That is not past love, that is not lost feelings. That is a ******* forest fire spreading through your veins, that is me.
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
written while drunk
the walls they close in, my breath seems to quicken, my thoughts began to whirl, i can't breath- i can't seem to grasp it, did i forget? i'm not forgetful, am i? ah, i can't think straight, things began to slow down, i can hear them yelling, but i can't, its drain out from my own breath, the sirens blare loudly in my ears but they seem so distant, my eyes began to close as i drift, my breath steadies, it slows, then stops.
0
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
the walls are closing in
Even here, miles from town, Joshua trees raise twisted arms, like dancers locked in a song’s last note. I lower myself, not as a hero in the final act but as an old father grown tired, disc inflamed in the back, knuckles scraped, work too new for such an old body. My youth spent bent in labor, family cut away in anger. Before I rot away in some churchyard, I kneel with the fool’s wish the spring could wash it all from me. The sun drags its red spine across the ridge. Stone steadies my shoulders in its cool grip I dissolve into cloud, a child warmed in arms of water, its breath rising around me like ghosts. Rain breaks, sudden and brief. Creosote exhales its sly, eternal smell. A cairn rises from the sand, stones balanced without name- its long shadow measures this sand in silence. Alkali on skin, sulfur edge to air, dust on tongue. Gravity presses, bone across rock, and heat seams my back- a mercy scraped thin, hours from the outskirts. A mountain hangs upside down on the pool’s surface. I drink not my reflection, but the earth’s fire gone gentle.
0
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC
Deep Creek
The day is hot, no hint of a breeze As I kneel down on ancient knees At the grave of you, most brave, who died in Omaha’s first wave. Our mother never did recover from losing you. Like many mothers. she, ever after, hid the scar. Poor recompense is a gold star. Rows of crosses on the plain Each bears a date, a rank, a name. Lives ended by the chance of war. Never to see home once more. Was your sacrifice in vain? One tyrant fell, but more remain The ***** that fell now better known as the common market Euro zone. Europe’s Jews gained a respite From Hitler’s hate and krystalnacht Yet soon the surging Moslem tide May again erupt in genocide My grandson helps me to my feet. and steadies me with his strong arm. The campaign ribbons on my chest belongs, in truth, to these who rest.
0
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
Colleville Sur Mer ( D Day + 50)
Faster, gambling rambling Mother, glides Laughing, Africa sailing smooth Jazz lips, spit gold Gorgeous. I told you so. Sil, never leaning, ********* his last basket of fire, Glitzy **** box of matches, ashes crowd and birth Saturday nights, street lights scattering a boy sullen, smiles rolling across faces Another line down dust flailing tubes of tissue, The mirror steadies the marrow, bones breaking gums, blow another let a little light shine through, and he'll watch himself stone the silence of Jazz and all that jazz and laugh it off until the sun illuminates what god gave, *** and sleep and smoke and sin Every night, a gun explodes and I've got to smile, I've got a little white witch swallowing, brass eyes to the West, gold-- this has never been so hot Not like thighs lingering for another second, pass her around until we're giggling and crossing our legs as young ladies do but, I'll save that for Sunday morning.
0
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Sil
Stroll in, Stay a little, Take what you need… What you desperately want. Leave. Leave. Leave. The door never stops spinning. Earthquake, storm.. Not even a calm summer breeze Can make anyone stay. Nothing steadies the dizziness. Nothing eases the gagging pain. Nothing ends this.
0
Jun 21, 2022
Jun 21, 2022 at 6:51 AM UTC
Revolving door policy
These I Call I reach, my feet toes digging into the soft damp earth this is the power of Body, clay and sand and rock this is the Grounding Point This is the point of Calm of Rest I Call North I entreat the Earth I acknowledge the Power of My Body I throw my hands high reaching, yearning the wind wends my skirt round my staff in Freedom This is the point of Reason This is Zephyr and Breeze and Gale I call East I entreat The Air I acknowledge the Power of My Mind Now I pull my Power from deep in my core call and play until it dances over my fingers This is the point of healing Fire This is the Power of My Actions The crack of lightning and the snap of Fire I call South I Entreat Fire I Acknowledge the Power of My Actions Now I flow in not out engulfed, enfolded warm and safe as the day before breath This is the point of Feeling of comfort both given and received I call West I entreat Water I Acknowledge the Power of My Feelings Upward pulled with Luna Joined With Sky and Moon I am rapt in a star filled bowl This is the place of Consciousness I Call a Sacred Place This is Galaxy, Moon, and Stars I call Up I Entreat The Cosmos I acknowledge The Power of my Consciousness Through my mind and my core Through that which makes me Witch Through legs into Earth Through crust and deeper yet Slower it steadies and my heartbeat slows , and matches that which sustains us I Call Down I entreat The Core , This Sacred Place I Acknowledge The Greater Life and Web of all Being Mother Earth From within now come Soul Spirit Essence of Life This is where My Lady waits Goddess , Ancestors , Guides and Companions I Call The Center I Entreat The Spirit I Acknowledge the inner ways and song and dance Visions Quests and Dream Times and Shadoewalkers These I Entreat and Invite These I Honor and would learn from These are gifts to me from My Sweet Lady Among these I will wait In this Sacred Place Solita@2008
0
Jan 2, 2010
Jan 2, 2010 at 11:18 AM UTC
These I Call
These I Call I reach, my feet toes digging into the soft damp earth this is the power of Body, clay and sand and rock this is the Grounding Point This is the point of Calm of Rest I Call North I entreat the Earth I acknowledge the Power of My Body I throw my hands high reaching, yearning the wind wends my skirt round my staff in Freedom This is the point of Reason This is Zephyr and Breeze and Gale I call East I entreat The Air I acknowledge the Power of My Mind Now I pull my Power from deep in my core call and play until it dances over my fingers This is the point of healing Fire This is the Power of My Actions The crack of lightning and the snap of Fire I call South I Entreat Fire I Acknowledge the Power of My Actions Now I flow in not out engulfed, enfolded warm and safe as the day before breath This is the point of Feeling of comfort both given and received I call West I entreat Water I Acknowledge the Power of My Feelings Upward pulled with Luna Joined With Sky and Moon I am rapt in a star filled bowl This is the place of Consciousness I Call a Sacred Place This is Galaxy, Moon, and Stars I call Up I Entreat The Cosmos I acknowledge The Power of my Consciousness Through my mind and my core Through that which makes me Witch Through legs into Earth Through crust and deeper yet Slower it steadies and my heartbeat slows , and matches that which sustains us I Call Down I entreat The Core , This Sacred Place I Acknowledge The Greater Life and Web of all Being Mother Earth From within now come Soul Spirit Essence of Life This is where My Lady waits Goddess , Ancestors , Guides and Companions I Call The Center I Entreat The Spirit I Acknowledge the inner ways and song and dance Visions Quests and Dream Times and Shadoewalkers These I Entreat and Invite These I Honor and would learn from These are gifts to me from My Sweet Lady Among these I will wait In this Sacred Place Solita@2008
Continue reading...
68
the passage through time is quite uneasy imbedded in concrete; consciousness dreamy faces skewing, anemic monsters intricate patterns, enhances, obscures repetition, repetition, repetition, repetition, incomprehension, incomprehension i can't continue, can't vacate i'm only human, my souls to take i discovered what it means to be when you can truly see the epiphany of heavenly monstrosity visions of a black hole theory i've seen all of time in one moment the future, the past, times of atonement lucid and frightful enlightening and grateful heartbeat steadies i think i'm ready to explore the world from a different standpoint and fully know this is not an endpoint it's forever changing and we're made for adapting our primal nature's to live i will never be held captive
0
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:33 AM UTC
Enigmatic Visions
like icebergs we keep floating through our lives    tops in the present    bulky bodies in the past what lies unseen below the surface steadies our course above we take it as it comes sun, rain, and snow & ice & wind sometimes it melts us down a bit but overall it makes the bulks of our bodies grow the new weighs heavily and pushes what was new before    downward day by long day until in balmy southern waters we slim down and then    one day a final ache splits upward from the bottom through the consolidated matter     of all years and we drown * * *
0
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
floating
The strongest people are often the quietest, Their shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of the world. They listen when others crumble, Piecing together broken hearts with steady hands. Their words soothe, Their presence steadies, And their silence feels like a refuge. But when their own walls begin to crack, When the weight they carry grows too heavy, Their voices falter. Soft cries for help, Eclipsed by the noise of lives they once held together. Their pain fades into the background, A whisper swallowed by the chaos of others. They are seen as unshakable, An unyielding constant in a storm. But even the tallest trees sway, Even the strongest pillars crack under strain. Still, they stand, Hoping someone will notice the way they lean, Hoping someone will hear the faint echoes of their ache. But most days, Their own needs dissolve into the shadows, Invisible in the light they give to others. And in the stillness of their loneliness, They wonder if anyone will ever listen The way they have listened all along.
0
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 10:21 PM UTC
The Silence They Carry
i wish i were a sea shell a perfect spiral fit to be cradled in your palm something for you to focus on when the noise you've spent so long focusing on becomes too much to interpret i wish i were a sea shell a direct line between you and the cosmos the etherial red phone you press to your ear to hear what your heart already knows your brain needs reminded of      the swish of blood and grey matter that steadies your flippant pulse i wish i were a sea shell deemed too relevant upon your moment of discovery to leave at rest with the other detritus exposed at low-tide
0
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
meaning in miniature.
He remembers auburn hair 
like the color flickering before him
 along Hwy 261. Thoughts of yesterday 
fill his mind 
on this journey. Roan Mountain fades 
as he steadies the wheel
 beside the constant stream of white hyphens on the blacktop. Flashes of her 
blend into the mountains. He dwells on her
 and their daughter who now flaunts ringlets
 bright as the autumn patches
 among the forest display. While he’s driving the rear view mirror reflects 
his creased forehead
 like his mother grew from her many worries. Travel grants him time 
 to think of them. “Mistakes were made.”
 A cop-out rests in that thought:
 he made mistakes. He broods
 when he’s in the driver’s seat.
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
Patches along the Road
Big open spaces, big open spaces. This chant spills from taut lips hanging on constrained breath. It’s not real, it’s not real. This chant sends hands to cover eyes wide in fear of still blank spaces. He can’t hurt me anymore, he can’t. This chant brings arms up to cover once bruised faces fresh with phantom pain. Don’t look down, don’t look down. This chant steadies trembling feet walking over fears now conquered. It has to get better, it has to. This chant loosens the noose wrapped tight around the jugular. I’m still here, I’m still here. This chant is whispered when the water recedes and the sun returns.
0
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Mantras
Sheets. Beds. Lay you You, scent of miracle Queen of purple Dive with you The lullness The sweetness The clouds The home Yet also the sting Juice of youth sing Not loud Entangles me in waves Indulge in the deluxe nature rave Cool, mingling flame Soothes my dame As the mauve movement Keep getting effervescent The miss The kiss The mist The rest They dance and giggle freely Fleetingly and sheepishly Blushing as it brush against my flock of sheep A sight of a paradox A splash of silver fox Comfy as its manes Steadies my slumber Even on a rocking lumber With the breath of September Keep making us enchanted under your spell All will be swell Thousand familiar but welcoming smell To you I stay We sway to heaven's way May it turn us gay Your nursing Your care Your play It is our day To blanket in your fields of saint
0
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 6:03 AM UTC
Lavender
Pull in the sheets, trim the tiller, shifting to the other rail, light airs prevail, the sails they luff. Seeking the wind, Cat's paws to Starboard Hard-a-lee tacking to Port, the breeze she comes, boom shifts, helm heels over, sails crack and fill. Reef in the Jib, slack off the main. She digs in, laying her rail into the water, riding on the seas thin knifes edge again, the keel rises, steadies her passage. We fly! Ah, fair winds, sailors delight, pleasant sailing, safe harbor ahead. No greater joy than to sail and muck about in boats on blue water. Freedom achieved, intensely felt.
0
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
Hard-A-Lee
It's the quietest time of night Where the moon has peaked All is hushed And you're supposed to be asleep But your mind plays games Making noise that keep you awake Mocking your restlessness and fears Little monsters play tug-of-war And swing from moonlit chandeliers I Find comfort in the dark A pitch black tranquility But little monsters search for a thought To keep me awake unwillingly Heart steadies like the sea Holding on to the evanescent dreams Waiting for the pounce of little feet Jumping on on you like a trampoline They've finally tuckered themselves out From running about They curl up beside me And count their sheep Beside little monsters I sleep
0
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 8:50 PM UTC
Little Monsters
Hound-dog swallowing poly-coated pills, filling up, bloated, falling off stage, and into a more permanent and lasting Graceland, to be surrounded by another’s verse. I only enjoy what comes from my own head, a modern Samuel Johnson, no matter what happenstance brought about to be said, a cage free Bronson. Hearing false verse through a syllable count, hoisted onto adverbs easy to mount. Congratulate a lesser mind, reaching commonalities most could find. Ease in creation, opens floodgate doors, distributing specs of grace through misworded spores. Life, love, and the pursuit of vanity, leaves simplified lumps of prosperous thought riddled with anonymity. The invention of despair overwhelms those ungifted, and leaves them erecting stale forgeries they grifted. In the wee small hours of escaping light, a crooner steadies his hands as he falsifies his originality, reading off the music from another’s sheet. A change in topic is something to hold as worthy, though in a modern context of prosaic prose, such good fortune can be exceptionally elusive. Broken hearted symptoms shared through a hash-tag, rerouted and worded, to fit an illiterate youth’s lesser diction, reposted to approach validity, only to be called forth as an original soul, one to revere, and hold as an entitled fraction of logic. The piano man knocks out a tune, hit in stride with vocal conduct, inspired and laid in pen by a lesser man propelled by better wording, given up for another’s career. Market’s over-saturated with teenage sonnets, weeping over cut wrists, ended (Victorian inspired) trysts, refreshed and brought back around until sentimentality vomits. Themes used to run rampant with fresh ingenuity, made extinct, occurred in a blink; now every poem has some congruency. The grapevine got entangled, getting involved with a troublemaker, providing the soundtrack, using another’s words.
0
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
The Ghost’s Even Forgot How To Write
Hound-dog swallowing poly-coated pills, filling up, bloated, falling off stage, and into a more permanent and lasting Graceland, to be surrounded by another’s verse. I only enjoy what comes from my own head, a modern Samuel Johnson, no matter what happenstance brought about to be said, a cage free Bronson. Hearing false verse through a syllable count, hoisted onto adverbs easy to mount. Congratulate a lesser mind, reaching commonalities most could find. Ease in creation, opens floodgate doors, distributing specs of grace through misworded spores. Life, love, and the pursuit of vanity, leaves simplified lumps of prosperous thought riddled with anonymity. The invention of despair overwhelms those ungifted, and leaves them erecting stale forgeries they grifted. In the wee small hours of escaping light, a crooner steadies his hands as he falsifies his originality, reading off the music from another’s sheet. A change in topic is something to hold as worthy, though in a modern context of prosaic prose, such good fortune can be exceptionally elusive. Broken hearted symptoms shared through a hash-tag, rerouted and worded, to fit an illiterate youth’s lesser diction, reposted to approach validity, only to be called forth as an original soul, one to revere, and hold as an entitled fraction of logic. The piano man knocks out a tune, hit in stride with vocal conduct, inspired and laid in pen by a lesser man propelled by better wording, given up for another’s career. Market’s over-saturated with teenage sonnets, weeping over cut wrists, ended (Victorian inspired) trysts, refreshed and brought back around until sentimentality vomits. Themes used to run rampant with fresh ingenuity, made extinct, occurred in a blink; now every poem has some congruency. The grapevine got entangled, getting involved with a troublemaker, providing the soundtrack, using another’s words.
Continue reading...
7
Moments drift like the wind, The memories locked in our hearts. Endearing laughter, tender smiles, The reminiscent days we cherish. The youthful days of contentment, We ran amongst the sea of people, Lost in our own world, Where nothing seems to matter. Days have passed, The future is almost within our grasp. The unknown draws only fear, Emotions begin to overflow. The weight of expectations, Just a burden carried on our shoulders. The anxiety, the inability to breathe, Clouds our enamoured souls. Close your eyes and listen, As your breathing steadies. The world is ours to rewrite, The place where we belong.
0
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Our World
Bridle of desires, Wing above the storms, He that steadies the Current, Lord of my life Gather me unto You That these words may be holy And worthy to praise thee, Christ, God of my life. King of Kings With Your perfection in wisdom Who rejoices in the little children, He that is the Word, Heavenly Shepard That forms the stars and the skies With a gesture Saving those from The darkness that looms, Guide me into the Life As I follow the immortal light, Merciful One, Jesus Christ Distiller of men Allow me to praise you Son of God, Savior of my life.
0
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
A Hymn for The Christ God