Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"terminals" poems
Who draws strength from watching the passage of time after dark blur against the windows of a moving train bound for ends uncertain. Who walks most balanced on the beams of empty tracks. In the shuffle of strangers at a crosswalk, who finds direction. Who sees clearer through rain. Who finds their place in the limbo of airport terminals, on delayed flights between chapters, over open roads that branch into tales of cities unseen, in the turn of pages unwritten. Who can keep track of time during the improvised chaos of jazz, catching notes scattered in the winds of horns. Who understands that wind moves fastest through dark places like tunnels, during storms in late August. Who finds their center hurled in flight, always coming and going.
0
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
Roaming in August
the hustle and bustle of the morning shuffle it's just enough to keep you up the stations and terminals are coated with sleep walkers and sleep talkers waiting for the inspiration to come to life that they always find at the bottom of empty coffee mugs and tea cups
0
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Morning
1. Kissing is not boring. Something I had never known. 2. ***** are just ***** but you like mine because they're mine. 3. You are a camel. You drink water in large and spread-out doses Just like you drink in my affection Stocking up on love because you're not sure when you'll get your next fix. 4. I'm happy to give and give so that you never forget how it feels. 5. You can never be too close to someone. Eyes flitting back and forth Fingers tracing Bodies crushing in a stedfast attempt to defy the laws of physics And melt into one. 6. Sing-alongs do not have to be on-key to be entertaining. 7. Kissing is not boring. Something I had never known. Never understood how one person could Spend hours with another's lips. 8. You called me a ***** And I might be good at something I'd never done before. 9. Secrets can be magical and torturous. 10. Hand-holding can become an addiction And "too comfortable" an understatement. 11. Love is, in fact, blind to distance. Terminals and metal detectors Are water off Love's wings And Baggage claim can be an utterly thrilling place. 12. You don't know what loneliness is until someone leaves you Exposed In the middle of a bed made for two For a bathroom break. 13. Kissing is not boring. Something I had never known. Never understood how one person could Spend hours with another's lips Tongue-tied in the dim light, Until I had it all to myself; Until you were there to prove it to me.
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
13 Things You Taught Me
Wandering under woodland leaves, my mind confined to winding suture lines. Paths of pink nerve tissue cherry blossom trees, dendrite branches wave in a heavy breeze. Myline bark, an axon stump, rooted contents of my skull continuously growing, a tangled plexus of neural connections. Twisting, turning, a knotted blockage. Pathways, rippled in roots, a crossing synaptic stoppage. A suffocating strangle, choking corpus callosum decaying mangle. Branches atrophy, shrivel and scar. Root terminals suffer hormonal harm. Forest trails quick fainting when lost in overthinking.
0
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 11:29 PM UTC
Overthinking
In the vacuum of that kiss, Those hugs At all the terminals Of farewells. In that void What you be to me, Lost in traducción, Is transformed In adiós. Our bond Of foods And looks. Smiles and rubs. Is gone. You're not in my day, I don't wait for you on Sundays I don't think of you Dancing At the rink, At the club, In my arms. Entre emociones Divididas No te hagas responsable De las mías, Demasiada empatía Es peligrosa.
0
Aug 5, 2022
Aug 5, 2022 at 4:08 PM UTC
Faith
I have been pacing enamorately, standing in airport terminals not looking for your arrival. But my eyes began to respectfully look elsewhere as you came. My words seem lackluster as we spoke but I'm just captivated. I want to write to you, but i am unable to. The departure time fast approaches, and my destination awaits, can we have just one more conversation, so that I can listen to you.
0
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 10:49 AM UTC
unexpected
*12.30 a.m the town drenched with the never-ending fall of rain still horribly soaking with sinners and saints looking for love in cold sheets; dark winding alleys; telephone lines; and every where in between this solitude is becoming more a safe haven if anything 5 a.m city lights on the river and it takes me back to the familiar print of checkered blue shirt draped on her arm and how it complimented her pale skin and red lips ash blue hair in the summer breeze voice like the dawn of spring everything i'm not and never will be yesterday's cup of sad americano on a lonely table for two on a wintry october night growing colder and colder by the second 6 a.m the now bright sky still cries with me the blinding lights of terminals bustling with hellos and goodbyes mock me black knit sweater black ripped jeans and heart now stained black as i remember your eyes forming phases of the moon round curious, crescents bright the you who can't hide it the warmth of the sun seep through my clothes a mark of a new day, another chance to wonder whether today is another to ponder upon what ifs what could've beens and should've beens 10.55 a.m i'm ready to leave the pretend love who had already left me first*
0
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC
9/10/14: seoul and tokyo.
I once knew a girl, back when my posture was good, we wore matching shirts, jeans and shoes. She kept her hair long, to hide jealous shoulders. All the loud voices didn't have a thing to say. They didn't resonate, hammering on doors, denting ear drums, enunciating mispronunciations. I played football in times square, passing glances and stairs, had rock climbing races to higher elevations. My badly tuned feet couldn't run, ankle bones off key. There's a saltwater film frosting my eyelashes, clinging to my tongue, holding down my yells to the quiet machines that toss boiled eggs in the air. Up to their knees in the dark left behind by streetlights, they rolled up their pants for wading. They lingered in docking terminals, standing still, becoming dust collectors. Somehow we're all just wanderers, citing passages we herd in front of us like mountain goats. Ambling across empty intersections, walking in handstand through cul de sacs, picking up litter from busy streets. Books for readers wear little letters, use big words with four syllables. They showed me how to fence with trains, ride red wagons down hills, win marmalade coated cricket matches. I never judged the typos to be out of place (I accepted the bits they forgot to erase)
0
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 3:47 AM UTC
I Read the Instructions
You are an unrelenting hurricane, vaporizing everything in your path. You are as fluent and necessary as water, and as viscous as honey at room temperature, always taking the path of most resistance. But once you are warm you flow as freely as the sea, and just as violent too. And that is why you require a broadened cliff for your unbridled waves to beat against, a sturdy bomb shelter for your B-52 flybys; an eye at the center of your storm, perfectly peaceful and okay with all that you are. Because you are the current within veins, sending action potentials down axons and dendrites, flooding presynaptic terminals with pieces of yourself. And you will be someone else’s, because you deserve all of this and more, and these are all the things I could never be for you.
0
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
you stand as tall as peaking redwoods
Caustic doorway blues The fog sets in, and the moon doesn't glow when brick structures crumble Rats in worn carpeting, writhing The screaming from pensive terminals and insects live on dead wood trees felled in hollow rounds This is the end of something warm These are days of hydrogen loneliness and grey skies applaud the tarmac Pornographers snap pictures of silhouettes in garages and the playground hears no love when gunshots deafen the trees and the old mattress is sodden Stale alcohol pungency near the alleyway, dormant today But the lights are still glowing in the house by the canal where somebody's memories still linger
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
Melancholy Tableaus From A Crippled Town
Bonjour, mon Cheri, mon petit Chou! The doorbell rings with a solemn telegram: - this just in - I am exactly like most girls - in civilizations lost, or civilizations in other civilizations, Italy hiding in Toronto and a government hiding in a shameful self-promotion, and 20 seconds later I'm a poly-sci major (incorrigible!) - 911! 911! 911! 911! What's my emergency? What's YOUR emergency? But really, what is my emergency? And when it comes to that, What's in an emergency - an aristocracy in high-waisted shorts, an ice cream social (media) scream - lets back the car out and park and loop and inevitably end up in a straight line caterpillars away from (The truth) - (but more of that later) Cross-continental cigarette and now I'm running out of material to trade it for. I am lonely, can't you see? A fair trade, for a night with me- **** me so hard I can't walk, **** me over so bad I can't detour a one-track mind) I am not the one Hemingway prepared you for, I will not blow smoke rings in Spain or wander the streets of Paris, I will sit right here lounging in a plaid vinyl sinkhole and carry myself with delusions of grandeur (Beyond novels unread - yet sadly written - by the unwashed and falsely educated masses) Life as an existential film, life as woe is me in backwards bus terminals. Life as when you marry someone you hate and life as cold tempura on a booze-stained tablecloth. Pass the peas, please.
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
Sweet Dreams You Are Very Beautiful
I never feel like anyone in my blood family ever listens.. I've thought of running away from time to time.. But if I did...Where would I go? How would I survive? I don't want to wait until I am eighteen years of age to move from this place they call home.. But what I call the dungeon... I want to be free like a bird.. With a world coming to it's war-filled and natural disaster ends, It's the only thing I can do.. I can contemplate that everyone thinks I'm giving up on everything.. Waiting until my not tragic, but proud end that starts a new line.. Life and Death sort of remind me of Neurons.. The dendrites receive the message... From there it goes through the axons and axon terminals... There really isn't an end.. Because the end has already ended... This is aggravation.. Living craziness... With no deadly end.. No poison to make us leave this world.. This aggravation.. I can't control... Maybe everyone is right.. Maybe I am running away.. Maybe I am giving up. But what am I giving up on? What am I running away from? Am I running to something? All these questions.. Remain unanswered.. While I sit in solemn silence... To purify this.. Aggravation.
0
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 7:33 PM UTC
Aggravation
there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice. i should have asked you who taught you to lace up your shoes in an instinct that feels just like a memory, your luggage is always packed. you love out of a suitcase, always ready to pick up and move. your hands are stained with their last names you have boarding flights tattooed on your palms because you're so used to leaving, there is never a good-bye it is always departure gates and terminals, and i'm writing this in on connecting flight over the ocean because close to nowhere is the closest we've been in months just to tell your passport that i understand how you cannot love me. i could taste it in your gas-station coffee breath i could feel it in the hesitance of your fingertips you are always close to the highway you are always waiting to hitch a ride with a new girl who will write poetry about how badly you feel like permanence and i am always trying to unpack you, begging you to stay one more night. i understand how you cannot love me, i stay on the ground and you buy plane tickets with spare cash, with a turbulence that makes me want to fasten my seatbelt. there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice and i whisper to the sheets "i thought i could've made you stay." your face is always towards the humming of the window and i like to imagine you can hear me if you can hear me, you can leave all you want. you can travel across the world and exchange your heart for currency, you can walk through security and stuff your belongings into the closets of cheap hotels. i understand how you cannot stay because you're always too busy leaving, but there will always be a place for you to unpack in my chest. there is a home that remains unoccupied. there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice, i keep it unmade in case you ever feel like coming back.
0
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 8:00 AM UTC
a hotel room for a body
there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice. i should have asked you who taught you to lace up your shoes in an instinct that feels just like a memory, your luggage is always packed. you love out of a suitcase, always ready to pick up and move. your hands are stained with their last names you have boarding flights tattooed on your palms because you're so used to leaving, there is never a good-bye it is always departure gates and terminals, and i'm writing this in on connecting flight over the ocean because close to nowhere is the closest we've been in months just to tell your passport that i understand how you cannot love me. i could taste it in your gas-station coffee breath i could feel it in the hesitance of your fingertips you are always close to the highway you are always waiting to hitch a ride with a new girl who will write poetry about how badly you feel like permanence and i am always trying to unpack you, begging you to stay one more night. i understand how you cannot love me, i stay on the ground and you buy plane tickets with spare cash, with a turbulence that makes me want to fasten my seatbelt. there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice and i whisper to the sheets "i thought i could've made you stay." your face is always towards the humming of the window and i like to imagine you can hear me if you can hear me, you can leave all you want. you can travel across the world and exchange your heart for currency, you can walk through security and stuff your belongings into the closets of cheap hotels. i understand how you cannot stay because you're always too busy leaving, but there will always be a place for you to unpack in my chest. there is a home that remains unoccupied. there is a bed that you haven't slept in twice, i keep it unmade in case you ever feel like coming back.
Continue reading...
36
Sarcastic smirks at the corner of your left cheek, exaggerating the importance of each day and week, Making me nod even when I don't agree, Just to tell yourself...."I told him what to seek!" The veins of my wrist pop out ever moment, My ears get a spoon full of torment! But fortunately I've got two of them so two ends, Open at the terminals to shove everything out! Pretentious eyes...I've got... but something lies behind them, This massive walnut of conspiracies is what gives instructions all the time then, You see what I show you and inside I'm a blank face, Who wins without even putting a step in this never ending rogue race! Thousands of efforts you can make and yet you'll only see what I want, I am the generous soul of the priest who avenges the night till haunt! Stop me if you can...cuz you know you cannot, but still show me what you've got which will at last die and rot, So stop me if you can cuz I will be the same which never have I been, Something that never have you seen so come forward and lean, To witness red coming from green. Stop me if you can!
0
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 2:14 PM UTC
Stop me if you can!
there is a numbed feeling one of exclusivity that suggests a solitary reconnaissance one of orientated purposes where moods are reflectively animated in individual focus in order to infiltrate a non sharing experience but the feeling abruptly stops it is a synchronized wound it is the assassination of the distant and complex terminals of the human mind i am irretrievably shocked poeple live but there are really no survivors
0
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
Boston bombs
They put her in a Curtained cubicle Surrounded by Beeping machines And all types of Wires and terminals A trashcan and A dripping faucet When they rolled her in They gave her Morphine Sodium chloride And a pat on the head "She's lucky" The nurse said As he lowered the gurney "A lot of people have No one show up" And he left the room Pulled the curtain closed We were left with the Tranquil beeping of Faceless terminals And the dripping faucet Another nurse came in With a clipboard And started asking us Questions Apologizing for The beeping "It's like Chinese Water torture" Then she left Pulled the curtain closed And when the Heart monitor Started beeping We pushed the Silence button like They showed us We were left with The sterile squeaking Of the soles of sneakers And hollow whispers In the hallway And the dripping faucet
0
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
Dripping Faucet
we all have our stories. stored in cafes, empty beer bottles, soaked clothes, tattered floppy disks. old film cameras, b/w reels. we keep these memories with us, and displace them as well. their cytotoxicity travels throught terminals of life's airport. eventually new souls come and go. terminals change, destinations flicker on digital screens. we delay our feelings, fall in love with the impossibility of circumstance. we all have our stories, maybe in poems like these, or photographs like the screenshot i would take to share this poem. we all have our stories, and not all stories are as happy as the plants kept beside me while i sit and write this poem down.
0
Aug 26, 2023
Aug 26, 2023 at 7:57 AM UTC
5:15pm
I hardly know what I'm doing As I ask the clerk for a pack of naturals behind the counter. My make-up from yesterday's shift preserved nicely, So the exchange followed suit. I'm not good at this. Naturally. Fifteen minutes before walking into the convenient store I paced the empty terminals of a car wash Rehearsing my demeanor and forced eye contact. I hate eye contact. Stand tall and look confident. But not too confident. Be charming, But not desperate. Don't try to be **** (You're not **** I'm four foot ten And twenty years old. Buying a pack of cigarettes for an addiction I don't carry Shouldn't be this hard. I'm not damaged, I'm not drunk. I'm not struggling, And I'm certainly not a cigarette smoker. But I'm here, In Boston, Stuck in-between the fibers of a girl Who writes bad poetry and Hardly knows what she's doing with much of anything. Naturally.
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
(optional)
I was frightened by familiarity. I assumed that a hometown was just a cage to be broken out of. The freeways burned like veins into my forearms. The lights of distant cities lighting up my being. I ran from your open arms and wide eyes to find nothing but empty bus terminals and books that held no solace for me any longer. My resolution was to run harder and father away from those who knew me best because they had also seen my vulnerability. From there I initiated fresh starts but I built false foundations in every new beginning. I kept chasing that horizon which had long marked the boundaries of my existence. I was running from the possibility of familiarity of settling, of the prospect of someone knowing every detail about me. I was frightened that once they knew, they would run to the opposite horizon. I was mistaken. I never felt the dawn of your eyes until I felt the dusk of missing them. I found that there is a difference between cage-bars and open arms and that I couldn't run any longer.
0
May 4, 2011
May 4, 2011 at 5:38 PM UTC
Horizons
there is a feeling one of exclusivity that suggests a solitary reconnaissance of self orientated purposes moods reflectively animated in individual focus in order to infiltrate a non sharing experience but the feeling abruptly stops it is a synchronized cyber wound it is the assassination of the distant and complex terminals of my mind i am irretrievably shocked there are no survivors
0
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
There is a feeling
There's an entity behind my eyes that folds my thoughts into airplanes my ears are the terminals to the sky There's mud on the runway but they're begging to go outside he moves the blocks, they take flight the planes turn to envelopes just harmless little notes entering through someones eyes and exiting through their throats sprouting into fishing boats floating on air with the current reaching places only the birds go my thoughts turn to weeping willows covered in white insect pillows that filter out negative tones the tips of the limbs call the grassy ground home and this is how we know we best leave nature alone my thoughts turn to snowflakes that splatter on the window of an airplane flying through the thunder that makes the boat shake and when the clouds cry, the willow is made
0
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
Places my thoughts cover
Early morning have to wake up better not be late the sun is rising, clouds are shining, birds are humming again well I know I will be alright Clock is ticking, Should be ready it's a brand new day The bus is waiting, I should be going I know I wont be late Coz' I know I will be alright One step closer I have to face the fact that tomorrow will never be the same again But today, I have to move on No turning back.. I'm ready to face the new day The sun is setting, time is passing another day has gone The world is changing, we all need something just remember one thing Tomorrow we will be alright One step closer I have to face the fact that tomorrow will never be the same again But today, I have to move on No turning back.. I'm ready to face the new day...
0
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
Morning Terminals
i exist in everything but i am more saturated in different settings in airports but people are always in a rush for their check-in time and i end up taken for granted in sea ports but people are sea sick and i end up being disregarded in bus terminals but people are too busy checking for the next bus to come, they don't think i'm there i think the only place i would be happy is in a green meadow but it's useless being alone no one notices, not even stone you can't even see me sometimes it hurts when you breathe, but i'm here because you need me the most --love, air.
0
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
love, air
the maze inside the rules of the car you promise me that no matter what insane or compromising thought might have arisen from either our mouths, there would always be the maze to keep us as friends- naked friends. ******* friends. hot, **** blonde and brown haired beasts summoning our human equity to arouse and arraign each other, each's other: say, drowning in internacional shipping bombings, lost at terminals, aboard flights. noting our beasts the minimalist pianissimo of black and white keys, the growing spirits of a Richter violin filling us up with anti-matter, inside this hours black tideless extremes. this place's mooring soporific tinders. You placed this cart of humanness too close to the life you live even say, rules i wanted to know but never have to practise in your absence nowness self-less and losing to the light, losing to the ocean, each ounce of life is now vastly different inside of me where dead worms cannot crawl i continue to die beside your sprawl where heavy night brings memories of your skin affixed n entwined each of your twelve unspoken names each of these hours that won't be mine and as this box of earth resigns its peace, i wish never to have known this haunting sea, where quaffing like the enigma of misery my secret voice cannot be free my eyes cannot bare their sight to see if ever chance should be
0
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 4:02 AM UTC
the maze
Spending good money on theater tickets for a fright when the six o'clock news plays for free each night ? Pay top dollar for " Spring water " bottled in plastic choking the oceans ? Sugar free sodas are nothing more than a cumulative poison just like all the others ! Marijuana is taboo , but fast food is cool ? Twenty years for selling it ! Perfectly fine to feed your kids rat poison with a toy stuck in it ! Pay no attention to a refreshing drink that cleans the terminals on car batteries ? Processed flour with roach droppings in it ? Antibiotics , genetically modified produce , earthquakes in Oklahoma from fracking ! Leveling trees in metro Atlanta to build substandard housing !
0
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
Afternoon Rant