"talkative" poems
The desire to be held
The desire to be left alone
The desire to be loved
The desire to be forgotten
The desire to be alive
The desire to be dead
The desire to be talkative
The desire to be silent
The desire to be home
The desire to be away
The desire for things to change
The desire is what makes me decay
because the desire to fall
is the strongest of them all
and it is just one feeling I can not change
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Mourn on my own
I have something to
say in a gentle way
please don't hug me
because i'm a conservative man
meek and gentle
please let me mourn on my own
i'm an introverted soul
and you would never
understand me alone
please don't hug me
no thank you
let me mourn on my own
i'm an introverted soul
i can't put my tears
on exhibition to be seen
shy and gentle
please don't hug me
i will say it in a gentle way
please don't hug me
i'm an introverted man
please let me mourn on my own
i want to ponder on my own
i want to be alone
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
gentle of meek
and full of complexity
i'm an introverted soul
and i can't put my tears
on exhibition to be seen
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
let me mourn on my own
i'm not a talkative man
i'm an introverted soul
please don't hug me
let me ponder my feelings on my own
because i'm a conservative man of tone
i can't put my tears on exhibition to be seen
please let me mourn on my own
i'm not a talkative soul
please don't hug me
i'm an introverted soul
and most will never understand me alone
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
i will mourn on my own
i want to ponder the unknown
and my feelings are not an open book
i will mourn on my own
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Excuse me Miss, the test results are back.
We’ve spoken to your family, and we are
Sad to say that you are numb.
You will start your treatment tomorrow.
I’m
So
Sorry
I’ve been numb for some weeks now
It started at my toes
It nibbled on my legs
It flirted with my head
Slowly but surely tiptoeing in
Numbness is a silent killer
It plays nice and deceives you
Creeping through my body
Then it took my heart
For numbness is a backstabber
It is not what it seems
It uses other emotions to find you
It is covered by fear, for they are good friends
It hides under sadness’s billowing cloak.
And it is smuggled through the heart’s border by anger
But now it’s in my heart
For the soldiers have come out of the Trojan horse
They pillage and take
For numbness is greedy
They start at interests and the hobbies
It makes them seem boring and not worth while
See numbness is tactful, precise, and deadly
It plays with your mind, and slowly eats away at your heart
Hallowing it out, emptying you
Numbness is always hungry
And now I don’t know what I have left that it could take.
Do not worry, for this illness you have, this plague, it is not deadly
And while the treatment we have prepared for you will not change you back
Because once numbness steals, It does not give back easily
It taints your mind, and like wine on a white tablecloth
It does not fade easily
Numbness scars the mind
It leaves its signature with a heart
You will not be who you used to be
You will be faded version of yourself
And a talkative young girl like your self should not be worried
For those who come into our hospital as vibrant and colorful as you
Don’t fade as much as the quieter ones
See you were stronger than them
Your mind did not give up as easily as theirs
But we are treating you early
And you will be fixed, not to worry
Our results of this treatment are stellar
See you will not be fully put back together
Just a little shattered
Not as broken
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 9:03 PM UTC
*She’s riding her bike
the wind’s on her cheeks
and hair
She’s got no worries
no care, cause she’s
riding easy on her bike*
Rachel comes on her bicycle
down the street and
she sways with a smile;
she can go steady or she
can show off, as she pleases,
on her happiness bike
off her bicycle
she loses her smile
she frowns, she does not talk
but O -
she’s a goddess, she’s Venus
she’s all radiance
when she’s on happiness bike
she’s in her red top today:
her ******* decent
but talkative;
her *** is composed -
and O, as always
Rachel is glowing
on her happiness bicycle
we know it all:
angels come on bicycles now
*She’s riding her bike
the wind’s on her cheeks
and hair
She’s got no worries
no care, cause she’s
riding easy on her bike*
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
the bigness of cannon
is skilful,
but i have seen
death’s clever enormous voice
which hides in a fragility
of poppies….
i say that sometimes
on these long talkative animals
are laid fists of huger silence.
I have seen all the silence
full of vivid noiseless boys
at Roupy
i have seen
between barrages,
the night utter ripe unspeaking girls.
6.2k
you were quiet and i was loud, talkative
you asked to borrow a pencil so i gave you the one with the hellokitty stickers on it just to see you smile
you gave it back with a note and i read in my car in the parking lot after class
it said that you thought my hands were beautiful, but i always thought that they were too small and definitely too pudgy and said so underneath the scrawl of hellokitty’s graphite. oh, and thanks
when i gave it back, you looked confused and turned the scrap over to show me the name on the front and it wasn’t mine
that same day someone slashed the tires on your honda accord
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 11:08 PM UTC
You have stars in your hands
and you hold them like grenades.
The boats tattooed on your thighs
spread out like finger placements of the G major chord.
Synthetic drugs make chains
tying your first and second fingers
around the mechanically rolled paper,
canvasing your throat like too much sea water,
each breath as rough as the veins in your arms.
Close your eyes
there’s pollen in the air
spread out like imperfections on the skin of an apple.
Solar countries keep foreign coins
sewed into their cotton sails,
they put their money into the navy.
You have a comet in your circulatory system
leaving bright spots under your skin
a reminder to gather the sunshine back under your eyelashes.
Hand soap in ketchup packets
make bubble bath islands
and unhappy lips.
You’re as talkative as a poem and
as expensive as a poppy
with homemade constellations on your back,
staining your lumbar muscles with cherries.
I can’t wash off your fingerprints
with my favourite shampoo.
I’ll swim across the Georgia Strait,
dodge your dinghies and
make a home in handmade ships
where I’ll practice erasing scars from my arms
and washing the soap from my hair.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
Khanjar Hain Teri Aankhein
Talwaar Hain Teri Aankhein
Zinda Na Rehne Dengi
Ae Yaar Teri Aankhein
Your eyes are like a dagger
Your eyes are like a sword
They will not let me live
O' beloved eyes of yours
Ae Nargis-e-Mastaana
Allah Tujhe Rakhe
Rehti Hain Tasavvur Mein
Har Baar Teri Aankhein
O' possessor of drunk eyes
God keep you in His preserve
Enduring within my imaginations
O’ forever are eyes of yours
Yeh Bolti Aankhein
Bhi Afsaane Sunaati Hain
Rakhti Hain Zuban Jaise
Ae Yar Teri Aankhein
These talkative eyes
Speak of many tales
As if, they have a voice of their own
O' beloved eyes of yours
Humne Teri Aankoon Mein
Allah Ko Dekha Hai
Iss Par Teri Aankein
Uss Par Teri Aankein
Within your eyes
I have seen the Lord
In every direction
O’ are eyes of yours
Chehre Pe To Ghussa Hai
Aankhoon Mein Muhabbat Hai
Karti Hain Mere Dilbar
Iqraar Teri Aankhein
On the face anger is exposed
But love is within the eyes of yours
Revealing O’ sweetheart
Unity, are eyes of yours
— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
The comfiest human bed warmer I ever had,
My fundamental tutor of the good and the bad,
The original storyteller in my bedtime tantrums,
The resident photographer of my birthday albums.
The accidental magician who tricked me out of my worries,
A sympathetic dictator who scolds but allows my fancies,
My biased talent manager who always tells me I'm the best,
The loudest cheerleader who puts to shame all the rest.
The world's underrated chef cooking heavenly meals,
Our unpaid laundry lady worrying over water bills,
The overqualified nurse never leaving her patient,
Our top-notch budget analyst negotiating every payment.
The random gardener, she can grow anything with ease,
Our talkative historian, she stops recalling only if we say please,
The uncanny philosopher, we've learned a lot from her,
The lost and found administrator, tracking things hidden anywhere.
The most efficient multitasker I've ever known,
My trustworthy adviser who knows me down to my bones,
A tough fighter who keeps winning her every battle,
My life's co-creator and this world's greatest mother.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
The City of Derby holds her breath amidst the crisis of historical ramblings and talkative expressions of inhibition.
Do not be deceived. Roaches are not mere insects, but are also three-course celebrations of haunting and religious engagements. There are Peaks which lie beyond the stratospheres of Leek.
Although the parameters of yesteryear project their own splendour, let us acknowledge the silver hair which drips with eternal statements of antagonistic adoration in Curzon Street.
Oh, rose of Sharon, in my sheer lack of understanding, I do not invalidate those instructions to depart from Birmingham New Street.
I have deeply immersed myself in Welsh pools of genuine loss, and have found a precious commodity which I had never beheld in former lifetimes.
Furthermore, I lament the loss of such generational integrity.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
This is the house of Bedlam.
This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a wristwatch
telling the time
of the talkative man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the honored man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the roadstead all of board
reached by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the old, brave man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls of the ward,
the winds and clouds of the sea of board
sailed by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the cranky man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
beyond the sailor
winding his watch
that tells the time
of the cruel man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a world of books gone flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
of the batty sailor
that winds his watch
that tells the time
of the busy man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is there, is flat,
for the widowed Jew in the newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
waltzing the length of a weaving board
by the silent sailor
that hears his watch
that ticks the time
of the tedious man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to feel if the world is there and flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances joyfully down the ward
into the parting seas of board
past the staring sailor
that shakes his watch
that tells the time
of the poet, the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the soldier home from the war.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is round or flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances carefully down the ward,
walking the plank of a coffin board
with the crazy sailor
that shows his watch
that tells the time
of the wretched man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
3.7k
I begin to hate it when someone is too much talkative
I like my silence, I like my calm, my own peace
I need to be alone, to stay alone
And it’s starting to irritate me, I hate those people
when they begin to see how I feel
And I hate it.
I want to stay the smiley one, the girl with a happy face
But I don’t want people to disturb me in these times
I like my own little world that nobody else can see
I just want to be me
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
he was more of a friend than a pet
a modest, ugly thing
with three souls bound by skin & fur
i’ve never known a mouse to be a functional addict
and i’ve known a mouse or two
he monologued with clever prose
about the impermanence of materialism
and with a deep, angry, disappointment
whenever he saw an empty parking lot
and with reverence regarding the flower that grows through asphalt
you could call the thimbles of ******* he travelled with
cute
most times i listened to him in
silence
when the air was right i would speak as he spoke
identically
he was more of a brother now that i think about it
a shy, talkative sibling
who gave his heart away as quickly as he could
i’ve never known a mouse that cared so much for the world
and so little for himself
Mar 9, 2021
Mar 9, 2021 at 5:23 PM UTC
I told the stars how lucky they were
To always have someone to look at
They were never alone
No matter where the earth was in space
I told them how lucky they were
To be associated with beauty
Because no one else is constantly told
How beautiful they are
But I know
Stars explode
And I like to think it's because they can't go on
With all the kind words spoken to them
Or maybe looking at someone but not being able to touch them
Caused the stars too much pain
Some stars become black holes
And I asked a dark star why it had become so
It explained that sometimes life
Makes even the brightest stars bitter
And being so positive for years and years
Had taken its toll
I wondered if the newly born black hole
Had any regrets on choosing the rest of its course
It read my mind and told me that
It wished it would have exploded into something new
Maybe to form new galaxies
Or to create new planets
Instead of ******* the life out of
Everything around it
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
loud
so genuine it seems fake
temper
cries easily
animal lover
talkative
passionate
overly sweet
accidentally inconsiderate
cant whisper to save my life
non confrontational until angered
giving
creative
hard working
obnoxiously loud and annoying
liberal
avoids messy situations until i HAVE to face them
flamboyantish
scared
loves being feared / having power
hates directly hurting people
anxious
too freaked to apologize
very touchy
hyper
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 2:39 AM UTC
I am not shy. I am loud, I am talkative, I am the first to start a conversation, I am not afraid to tell a stranger everything on my mind, I will laugh too loud in front of people, I will cry too hard in front of people, I will tell any secret that is mine to tell, I almost always know what to say, I like to socialize, I enjoy company, I enjoy talking, I enjoy listening. But not when it comes to you. When it comes to you I am so scared to make a wrong move. When it comes to you my heart bursts open into my brain prohibiting logical thoughts. When it comes to you I am painfully shy, I listen too long, I talk too little, I cover my mouth when I laugh, I make small movements, because I do not care what random strangers think of me, but I do care how you think of me. I care if you like how I look or talk and I care if you think I am interesting, and I want so bad to fake who I am just to impress you but I don't think that will be necessary because you seem to like me. And thats good. I like me too.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
hi how high are you?
my body is shaking within my own skin
my grin shows how high my state of mind is
my thoughts lined with pleasant daydreams
theme undecided
nothing guided
only my imagination
with my own narration
long duration
**** hits, never quits
visits from old memories
carries me away
as if a glistening new boat
was swaying me away from shore
I swore my body was moving to the feel of the waves
moving, and grooving
proving I am who I am
through my dreadlocks
and poetry
this is my story
glory, just exquisite
no, not really its ordinary
I'm going to cut to the chase
life is no race, I'm slowing growing
flowing through my deepest emotions
my devotion is enlightenment
brighten my eyes and live in the moment
all thats crucial, with the brutal past
and the frightening future
let my worries
become flurries of snowflakes
laid upon the earth and not my shoulders
weight like a boulder
in the eye of the beholder
I hear sweet tunes of floyd
feel the keys on my fingertips with every motion
smell the stale smoke of cigarettes and marijuana
this high as brought nothing but good thoughts
and positive energy
and talkative vibes
nothing describes the uplifting enjoyment
won't stop drifting
shifting from planet earth
to my own birth of reality
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
An empath
Just a ProSonderer
Nothing more
But quick to learn
every human’s soul
will be instinctively felt
just as the breeze flows
through that open window
A soul
it’s wandering to your heart’s beat
on rare occasion it deviates from the tune
nothing more
—Because you don’t acknowledge
its existence yet;
Could you truly expect to progress
in finding your soul’s mate
when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—
A pair of souls is always made from a single star
so when you find another
that renders your talkative self speechless
or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter
Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder
that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache
when you're longing not only at midnight
but in public midday for that other
if its a flame
that just won't fade
no matter how long you stay
tell yourself to not push this one away
you're not in danger anymore
let that person breach your barricades
allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways
you'll soon stop automatically
encouraging them to go
the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door
chances are you'll find
nothing's worth more
then an empath finding their
lone star soul in their own time
And as a sondering empath
I understand having that
(impenetrably
-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-
translucent but sporadically opaque)
guard with others
Seems like a darkly humored folklore
a normal person’s usual day
is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion
but when you meet that one
you won't just understand their soul
you'll have a brand new reading
and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing
just remember there's a first time for everything
when that someone intuitively understands you.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 7:14 AM UTC
Went for a long drive with a close friend we talked I expressed my anger and frustration. We talked religion movies and music was the topic of discussion. My faith is with god and I feel only he could judge me. I don't preach but focus on doing right all the wrong doesn't bother me till it starts to pile and topple over in my direction.
I've become a movie guru since I quit drinking. I've become somewhat antisocial and do not care for drama or involved with ppl who do bad. I can't look the other way it's better if I never face that direction.
Music helps me write I enjoy the greats and soundtrack they help give me direction also setting a mood. I try to be happy but someone alway ****** me off
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
*I know for a fact that I am talkative,
In which I find noise as something positive.
But when it comes to you, your eyes and your smile,
I can't help but think that silence can be worthwhile.*
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
She's always on my mind
And never let me sleep
She's so one of a kind
that you will ever meet
She's so beautiful
Beautiful like clothes
She's cute pretty, simple,
and makes you laugh like jokes
She's very talkative
A person you can vibe
She's very positive
Perfect to be my wife
My heart beats so fast
Everytime she's close
I'm so in love with her
This woman name is Rose
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 8:47 AM UTC
Wind,the agent of change,
you at first was far off and distant,
A constant drone of bees, not much!
they paid no heed to those rumblings,
Your power was counted
insignificant,they kept the curtain drawn,
Down, intact, trying to
keep you out of the house of darkness.they kept.
But the suppressed put
their ears close to the ground, listened,
Aware of your intent, they
patiently waited, watching your unhurried advance.
Giving talkative leaves ample chance
to speak their heart, first, tickling trees, caressing clouds,
You changed the speed,
rustling sound soon became persistent.
Shouting slogans, hand raised,
all the plants and trees expressed their anguish,
Insisted, a change, justice for mother nature,
stoppage of torture of , animals, birds and bees.
Wind, you act as an unswerving friend,
creating awareness , is your intent.
and fight the rot , naked profit motive, relentlessly,
by now every one knows the injustice,
festering fiercely in the core.
You drive the clouds and spin them about,
rain by and by gains strength
It pours now in torrents, all untruth
comes out in the open, face the ire,
the true power of the protests, eye of the storm.
Wind, you boom, give a clarion call to clean,
revenge all the injustices, perpetrated til now.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
I am from being a younger sister,
to having divorced parents.
I am from being an Aunt,
to watching my nieces and nephews grow up.
I am from being a confused teenager,
to learning from my mistakes.
I am from reading love stories,
to believing in love at first sight.
I am from having high expectations,
to being determined to achieve my dreams.
I am from being shy and quiet at school,
to being loud and talkative at home.
So who am I exactly?
I am a girl who goes after what she wants to achieve.
I am a girl who is loving,
and has a heart for the people she loves.
I am 14 year old girl,
trying to learn from her mistakes.
I am me.
a person with a unique personality.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
Tell me - What's actually going on between us ?
I'm not sure whether I like this or not
It makes me so happy but I lose my focus
There's something strong but it's not my fault.
Tell me - What's the nature of our relationship ?
I'd like, just for a second, to get you out of my mind
It oppened my eyes and now I can't blink
There's something strong that I can't define.
Tell me - Do you believe in love at first sight ?
I know I do, it's happened to me
It's going on inside of me, an internal fight
There's something strong and I want to break free.
Tell me - What are your feelings towards me ?
I don't think they're as true as mine for you
It really is going to drive me crazy
There's something strong and nothing I can do.
Tell me - Is that what they call 'Love' ?
I am so scared and have so many regrets,
It became the only thing I can think of
There's something strong that I can't forget.
Tell me - Why do I act so shy around you ?
I am so open and talkative with other people
It's weird how a simple feeling can become so deep and true
There's something strong but it's drowning my soul.
Tell me - How exactly would you describe us together ?
I can't say what I think, all my thoughts are gone
It has been chasing me since a tuesday in September
There's something strong but I want it to leave me alone.
Tell me - What's about you that makes me forget the others ?
I'm really confused by all those different emotions
It is gonna **** me if I don't find answers
There's something strong and I can't find reasons.
Tell me - Why do I miss you so much when you're not here ?
I always feel hurt, but I don't know who to blame
It better go away, let me live, disappear
There's something strong that's causing me pain.
Tell me - Why am I pretending that everything's fine ?
I still remember holding your hand through the whole night
It was cold and your fingers were slowly caressing mine
There's something strong but it's killing my heart.
Tell me – Do you think I have wasted too much time ?
I've been wondering for too long if you'll ever be mine
It's hurting me now, I think the time has come
To reveal my feelings to you, and maybe we will share some...
And here I am, waiting for your answer
Shaking in the dark, eyes wide open with anxiety
Will you say ''no'' and try to forget me ?
Or will you say ''yes'' and be mine forever ?
Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 3:50 AM UTC
She has two faces.
One face that she shows the world, loved ones, and in public.
The smiling one.
The happy, friendly, and talkative one.
The confident one full of laughter and positivity.
The face that everyone is used to.
The second face is the real face.
The one she tries not to show anyone.
The face behind closed doors, when she's alone away from the world, in the security of her own emotions that she doesn't want to show anyone else or have to explain them.
It's exhausting trying to look happy and like nothing is bothering you.
The face that stares off at nothing or patterns on the floor or drapes.
The face that cries in the shower, in bed, car rides alone, cries sitting on the couch, or doing things around for house.
The sad face that stares back at her in the mirror and looks nothing like she used to be.
Well to her anyway. Others say she looks the same. The face that looks strong to the people she knows, but is really just shards of broken glass inside.
Yes, the girl that was there for everyone, and strong for others...is now split into two.
Two faces, one broken spirit.
She can't bear the losses.
It feels like a chapter of a wonderful book closed never to be open again.
All she has are memories and visions in her head that she plays over and over.
Nothing is the same to her.
Everything is different. She can't cope with daily life, her Doctor said. So she writes to help herself, and she has her two faces.
What's funny is, the sad face is the face worth a thousand words underneath in the depths of complexity.
While the happy face full of laughter, love, positiveness, and fun...is a straight shooter."-
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 10:37 PM UTC