Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"subdivide" poems
we **** in towers he missed the bus by hours clean out the garbage pail with high pressure hoses I want to stick my nose in it and pledge allegiance to its cleanliness he feels the lows the lower it goes god only knows this world is just for show the real experience is in the back we're keeping up appearances and paying taxes "please be quiet and refrain from smoking this is the first and last time I'll inform you that I'm only joking" snip the locks pour the contents subdivide the rations according to your favorite fetish better keep this to ourselves...
0
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
this is not a midterm essay
You’re wishing plus wanting to win the other side remove your pride, you untied tidal pool, the wide subdivide of these paper pages. Unrelenting numbers remind you of the next stages, taking you wildly to Namibia, surrendering you to Zimbabwe, the terminal station. The narration vocalizes the translation of quotations, your obligation to the violation of the rules, the regulations, vulgarization of spoken word. Pretty paintings plaster typecasts, the pitter-patter of pity’s pretty ****** quickly shifting refurbished velvet sofas. Overcast symphonies outlast witty recast stanzas, scores with notes naturally quote verses romancing seltzer spines noticing the negotiation of sore throats. Oblivion’s oblivious to the people, obnoxiously obscene with syncopated saturation of public vital signs. You’re the vain strain of virus photocopying yourself within skin, waste your sin on tattoos trapped on shins safety pins selecting prints pinning sets of twins to tanned wrappers protecting official reports. The ossuary welcomes records printed on thick paper suspiciously missing skeleton swords. Writing stories reversed while tipsy, quickly preforming risky poetry smog, sweetly omitting secret words, trying to spell simply without the proper prologue.
0
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
Tuesday
please to admit, it is true & not too deep within, a scientifically proven and a oddly curio shop fact, we are all aliens to each other, despite, the overlapping of a billion permutations of cellular related associations our individuating palettes the diversity of our genetics, other than the physics of sharing a planet, simplest put, no one can ever be exactly the same, the precisely of you or me, doppelgängers notwithstanding, our individuation, so incredibly due to our blessed diversification, that to subdivide ourselves from others, is a downward                                                            facing absolutely ridiculous ideation and thus we reveal here and (n/kn-ow) that the only reason we aliens unique nonetheless can communicate with each other, regardless of alphabet or character of idiom, (or idiots of character) is *all alien beings love to breathe and speak intuitively in a pleasing rhyme and meter,* to the ear of our overlapping physique, and that is why, every tongue is connectable, and every alpha produces its own poetic creations, 'tis poetic soundings alliterating glue, that molds this planet of aliens from a tower of babel into a shapely sphere
0
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 1:05 AM UTC
noooo brother, you're the alien!
Fifteen inches LCD Electronic mouse And bunch of scratches of sheets. There were roof lines Valleys and ridges Encircling the overlapping layers Some are frozen, some are hidden. Estimation and calculation Uttering numbers With various actions. 3D walls Inserting commands Subtracting openings Including doors and windows. The formula was easy To multiply and subdivide Real aesthetical features Future renovation For firm edification. (6/30/14 @xirlleelang)
0
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Digits Overload
in perfect motion, lost in time, I subdivide the outer lines. the enigmatic parallax; dilation of the centered mind. microbial in grander schemes, my breath is born to exit me, inhale the holy entity; become the dreams in vivid scheme. intrinsic shapes of destiny envelop my entire being; a calculated entropy that grants subconscious unity. magnified, this smoke will bleed into my every living deed, tied into every breath i breathe I stretch my being; exude peace. I’m only what I dream to be, as I ask myself to pray for me.
0
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
eye
He’s come to ancient plains, again. Wide and open, high and dry. Unrolling before his misting eyes, He feels the tug of ancient ties - A primeval sorrow, His gut rarely lies. Breathing the landscape in ... He imagines America, Before settlers arrived; A life under Different skies. Oh, how they tried To disguise Their insatiable eyes. Twisted, and tainted, By treatises and lies, Used for desire, And profit designs; Parceling the land, That sour reprise. But beneath The ringing cries, Of culture broken, And shattered lives, A wisp of her soul resides; In stories told, And countryside. Places where nature Remains untried, And no realtors Have thought to subdivide.
0
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:48 AM UTC
America
655 Without this—there is nought— All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird— Heard opposite the Sea— I could not care—to gain A lesser than the Whole— For did not this include themself— As Seams—include the Ball? I wished a way might be My Heart to subdivide— ’Twould magnify—the Gratitude— And not reduce—the Gold—
0
1.4k
Without this—there is nought
Recoil from the unclaimed toil Back-lashing at your Now events past Elbow forward muscle through the supernatural blue night's bustle to you, to you, to you The zizz of machines the eager Hums of moonbeams and train steam upload pesky echo's live stream To you, to you, to you. Discharge the memory burdens The tomb stones inside you lug up the flights to last door's deadbolt on the right Then Subdivide my pride to tiny bits Super-collide dustified then broom aside in clouds ,of specks held in new dawn sun beams, probing through lace curtains and velvet drape seems: the atom of time, caught in full stride Coming to you, to you Our deep core sample of memory in forgotten ice. Why, for what? Why? For what? Why infinity times why plus why. It's simple. I died. Between that death and my final breath, I reside. Living ghost ever ready an endless Snide Comment hurtling from another time to you
0
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
Untitled
Scare the world Send invites To the refuse They're enticed The extreme The absolute Stand at attention and salute Check 1 Check 2 Check 3 Check 1, 2, 3 Out of sight, out of mind Oh, the mindless and the blind Right in front, fall behind The rise, the decline Surly moon rocks Burning sunspots Ticks and leeches Naked beaches I'm the gluten free bread winner The patron saint for all the sinners A race, a class subdivide Separated yet unified Can't unsee what's been seen You can never turn back time But what can you do, what can you do When life looks at you and hands you limes? -Tommy Johnson
0
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Hurry Up And Wait
Not saying I'm mad Just saying that I've had Enough of the ******** You continue to rule **** Feeding on my young soul Make off with self control And where is my brother?! The fact that I can't speak to my mother I'm so afraid she'll discover All this time I never actually... Recovered But all feelings aside Or what's left of them, subdivide My once constant retaliations, are now merely implied Moreover, You kidnapped my soul and continue to preside.
0
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
Lingering Dependency
We can keep your secret. We can share it, subdivide it,     Put tiny pieces in our hearts. We can entice it away with comfort foods, New recipes named for you. To many things the answer is no. But yes to you, Yes To your question. Why? Because your secret is something We secret as well. Something familiar, like a touch at The exact right time, the right moment, The mere knowing that we know Is Red Cross Disaster Relief arriving. Coffee and blankets will not restore As before, But This writ Will be a start. We can share words, we can grant tiny easements, We can weep with you unseen tears, We can etsy you little homemade gifts Like this. That you can take and keep, and break out in time of need knowing full well that these words will not spoil nor rancid turn, cannot be out grown,, or torn, or rent asunder in anyway for once they are shared They are irrevocable. Starting now 7/7/7:00am
0
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
We Can Keep Your Secret
I wander aimlessly here, here in this place where I often go. A refuge where I come to be restored by the midnight air, ere that perfect silence into which I'm thrown; and in which I can collect my thoughts & know  -my percipience does ignite somewhere. Somewhere off the map.      Somewhere off the globe. Aloft in these Nameless Hallows, I travel lightly -because my body ne'er goes... goes... goes...  in these, my echoes within -within the far compass of unerring tranquility: but what an ability -what a beautiful bliss! to cast no shadow where the dutiful exist.   Lo!            Suddenly a downpour hits!   T'is Woe!                              T'is Woe! T'is Woe!                                      And, sullenly I resound her hiss. I look thru squinting eyes as lightning is barely lightening the glinting skies; the frightening bolts extending and scarily resembling skyward highways which have me verily trembling, hammered, amazed. Tho I feel and see and hear -part of me does part with what I fear -and the other partly remains enthralled- as I tuck myself in so near, an attempt in thwarting the violent squall. Now I slog helter-skelter thru the deepening pool. Seek I shelter like a tooling Creep or a creeping Tool.                            Thunder rips the sky asunder! Those pounding noises sound like resounding voices,                                                                                 voices,                                                                               voices and then I wonder, wonder, wonder... if the torrent is my only torment: or if I must also face my other self, that half of me that ne'er lies completely dormant, that hemisphere that lives and breathes and moves by stealth. This is my grimmest fear, when I must ask myself -for my Self - which part of me I should shelf. I think I can abandon both,                           you see: but then there would be                      nothing left of me...                                                     or me...                                                 or me.
0
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Subdivide "Or" Intangible Reality
I wander aimlessly here, here in this place where I often go. A refuge where I come to be restored by the midnight air, ere that perfect silence into which I'm thrown; and in which I can collect my thoughts & know  -my percipience does ignite somewhere. Somewhere off the map.      Somewhere off the globe. Aloft in these Nameless Hallows, I travel lightly -because my body ne'er goes... goes... goes...  in these, my echoes within -within the far compass of unerring tranquility: but what an ability -what a beautiful bliss! to cast no shadow where the dutiful exist.   Lo!            Suddenly a downpour hits!   T'is Woe!                              T'is Woe! T'is Woe!                                      And, sullenly I resound her hiss. I look thru squinting eyes as lightning is barely lightening the glinting skies; the frightening bolts extending and scarily resembling skyward highways which have me verily trembling, hammered, amazed. Tho I feel and see and hear -part of me does part with what I fear -and the other partly remains enthralled- as I tuck myself in so near, an attempt in thwarting the violent squall. Now I slog helter-skelter thru the deepening pool. Seek I shelter like a tooling Creep or a creeping Tool.                            Thunder rips the sky asunder! Those pounding noises sound like resounding voices,                                                                                 voices,                                                                               voices and then I wonder, wonder, wonder... if the torrent is my only torment: or if I must also face my other self, that half of me that ne'er lies completely dormant, that hemisphere that lives and breathes and moves by stealth. This is my grimmest fear, when I must ask myself -for my Self - which part of me I should shelf. I think I can abandon both,                           you see: but then there would be                      nothing left of me...                                                     or me...                                                 or me.
Continue reading...
46
Pitter patter pitter patter Of each drip drip drop As it ricochets off my window panes Or glances by my door The gurgling and chugging Ushered from my rooftop Moving with a purposeful haste As if a finish line it seeks out To which it will be graded with a score Their lanes help subdivide them Into a mini-highway system Flowing and gushing through As the droplets begin to pour This marvelous eco system Running with high efficiency A pedestrian in their Water World Sauntering, I take my tour These waterways and fountains Are the perfect camouflage With their help I shield my pain To the world outside my door With so many falling drops Hiding from others all my tears And no need to hold them back My life has happiness no more Dewy drops from sky above And moisture pods from eyelets too An endless storm of paindrops fall Forever lost what was before Without effort, cast your chill These scattered thoughts - I am confused A lightning bolt I caught for you But you had seen it all before Nothing fancy; nothing new Like fresh cut grass with morning dew And so my Paindrops fell for you But you don't want me anymore
0
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
Paindrops
I woke up to the sound Of a slow guitar I woke up to a hint in the air Even now you haunt my dreams I wish you would just Leave me alone I've known souls to travel before And I've known souls to subdivide But then why would yours Hang around me? Maybe it's a lie Maybe it's true Maybe there's too much Resistance Where there should only be Desire Maybe I've missed something Maybe I've made mistakes Anything I can think of I can back up But does it matter If you sleep by my side Every night Without being here at all? Maybe you made a mistake I know that to be true But then does it matter If my heart takes a leap At the thought of you
0
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Maybe