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Vulesse addeventà nu barbuncino:
uno 'e chilli canille nire e riccie
ca siente 'e dì p' 'a strada: "Che carino!...
sembra un batuffolino... nu capriccio".
E me 'nfezzasse dint' 'a na vetrina
d' 'o primmo magazzino ca truvasse;
e tu, passanno 'a llà ogni matina,
te 'ncapricciasse 'e me e m'accattasse.

Io già me veco cu nu cullarino
tutto 'ndurato cu ddoje campanelle
sdraiato appiede a tte 'ncopp' 'o cuscino:
p' 'a gioia, cchiù nun ce stesse dint' 'a pella!

E quanno po' tu me pigliasse 'mbraccio,
dicenneme parole azzuccuselle,
io t'alleccasse 'e mmane, l'uocchie e 'a faccia
sbattenno 'e zampe, 'e rrecchie e 'sta curella.

Pe stà sempe cu tte matina e sera
nun me 'mpurtasse 'e fà sta vita 'e cane!
Vicino a tte t' 'o giuro 'e sta manera
vulesse bbene pure 'o acchiappacane!
Jacob Rofini Jun 2016
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ryn Nov 2014

i
    am
       a sea
           farer•a
                  rider of the
                         dwindling air...

one day my ailing boat would invite
the water•i will finally sink into
~ ~ ~~
oblivion's lair•~~ ~ ~
~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~  *~ ~
~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~ ~~~~
~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~   ~~
~~ ~~ *•m y exis tenc e ~ ~ ~~  
    ~~ w ill then  be • but a we a k, ~
i ndis  cern ible... reflec  tion of my sel f
~   •  ~
                      ~     i' d notb e  free •but~
        ~    ~          t rapped i n abo x
                   ~   on a  lon g for-  ~~
              g o tte  n  ~
~    sh e ~
l  
f

.~
Vulesse addeventà nu barbuncino:
uno 'e chilli canille nire e riccie
ca siente 'e dì p' 'a strada: "Che carino!...
sembra un batuffolino... nu capriccio".
E me 'nfezzasse dint' 'a na vetrina
d' 'o primmo magazzino ca truvasse;
e tu, passanno 'a llà ogni matina,
te 'ncapricciasse 'e me e m'accattasse.

Io già me veco cu nu cullarino
tutto 'ndurato cu ddoje campanelle
sdraiato appiede a tte 'ncopp' 'o cuscino:
p' 'a gioia, cchiù nun ce stesse dint' 'a pella!

E quanno po' tu me pigliasse 'mbraccio,
dicenneme parole azzuccuselle,
io t'alleccasse 'e mmane, l'uocchie e 'a faccia
sbattenno 'e zampe, 'e rrecchie e 'sta curella.

Pe stà sempe cu tte matina e sera
nun me 'mpurtasse 'e fà sta vita 'e cane!
Vicino a tte t' 'o giuro 'e sta manera
vulesse bbene pure 'o acchiappacane!
ryn Aug 2014
Sigh! It's so boring! Life's but a loop
Wish I could run with a circus troupe
Or maybe join a rock climbing group
Why doesn't 'coup' sound exactly like 'coop'
'Coop' rhymes with 'soup' which is 'coup' with an 'S'
I'm late, in hot soup! What a mess!

Work...work... Gotta get to work. I'm late
Aww man...did you really have to lock the gate??
Splendid, terrific, this is just great!
Who the heck puked on this floor made of slate

I'm out and it's pouring now. The rain will wash it away
Sh*t! It's pouring and I'm stranded, no brolly. Yay...!

Stranded...thank goodness I have music
Choose shuffle and then click
Through my plugs, stream out N'Sync
I know... I know... I know what you must think

I think I have to think of something
Take shelter for now is what I'm thinking

Or maybe I should call in sick
No...no... It's the last day of the week
A taxi! A taxi I should seek!

A taxi would quicken my pace
If I can get one in the first place
If only I hadn't sold... I still had my bike
My head wouldn't potentially be on a pike

Miss my bike, her knobby tyres, she was my Winona Ryder
Sensuous and sleek, my Yamaha with jet black fender
Ride a bike, must wear shoes. Much safer

Love my shoes, I own more than a dozen
Nails need trimm... Oh look! A ******* raven!

No... a crow... Well, some bird stranded like me
Can't fly on wet feathers seeking refuge under a tree

Wait a second! Where was I?
Oh nails! Trimming tonight, I must try
Clean fingernails, everyone likes
***! I'm still stranded! Yikes!

Brave the rain, walk briskly, no time to waste
Move quickly, go on...make haste!

Care not for getting wet
Go now! Ready...get set...
Awgh! Didn't zip up my bag
This just adds on to my lag

ZIPP!
TRIP!

Tripped over a stone
No one saw, luckily I'm alone!

Gee... I have 21 bags, perhaps too many for a guy
Must go jogging tonight, next week or maybe next July
Oh shoot, shoelace's undone...now I've got to tie
Text message in on my phone, volume set on high

Work just texted, asking so many questions
Among which - "Have you submitted last week's requisitions?"
Why do we text when we can talk
People don't meet anymore, on Facebook they rock

Hmm beginning to hate Facebook but I still do check
Woohoo! Found a coin by the grass verged track
Oh ten cents, well it's still money
I'll save it, it'll come in handy
Perfect! Now I'm wet
Because of the coin I tried to get

Hmm...where was I again?
Gosh my mind's like a derailed train
One of those days I guess I'll remain...
A...

          S CA  TTE  RB RA  I    N

.
And I'm still NOT AT WORK!!!! But at least I'm 10 cents richer!
Vulesse addeventà nu barbuncino:
uno 'e chilli canille nire e riccie
ca siente 'e dì p' 'a strada: "Che carino!...
sembra un batuffolino... nu capriccio".
E me 'nfezzasse dint' 'a na vetrina
d' 'o primmo magazzino ca truvasse;
e tu, passanno 'a llà ogni matina,
te 'ncapricciasse 'e me e m'accattasse.

Io già me veco cu nu cullarino
tutto 'ndurato cu ddoje campanelle
sdraiato appiede a tte 'ncopp' 'o cuscino:
p' 'a gioia, cchiù nun ce stesse dint' 'a pella!

E quanno po' tu me pigliasse 'mbraccio,
dicenneme parole azzuccuselle,
io t'alleccasse 'e mmane, l'uocchie e 'a faccia
sbattenno 'e zampe, 'e rrecchie e 'sta curella.

Pe stà sempe cu tte matina e sera
nun me 'mpurtasse 'e fà sta vita 'e cane!
Vicino a tte t' 'o giuro 'e sta manera
vulesse bbene pure 'o acchiappacane!
SøułSurvivør Jan 2016
d o   you kno w  e ver yth  i ng  ?

ha ve  y  ou   c ons ider ed

th a t   GOD
m ay be  o ne  of th e  t h ings
o
y u  

**D O  NO T   KN  O    W  ???
maybe something to consider.
you may be able to put the pieces together

I'm going to be off site a while

Going to my sanctuary... the front porch.
I greet everyone going to church.
ryn Dec 2015
.
*    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
     |                                    •arches                                      |  
   |                                 up top bef-                                   |
   |                               ore tapering                                   |
   |                                   down to                                      |
   |                   ­                    the                                           |
    |                                         ­                                            ooo
       |                   ooo    bottom•a sym-      ooooo         ooo    o
   |              oooo    bol that holds my en-     oooo      ooo
|       oooo        tirety for ransom•a hos-      oooooo  
|   ooo              tage situation that made          ooo    
ooo                   me so willing•truss me                      
  ooo              up, bound...  i am not                      
oo            fighting•call this in-              
          oo            sensibility... name                         
ooo                  this foolery•i am                   
   ... but a branch
dangling off
|                           a  tree•                            |  
|                call                           thus            |  
|           me   an                        i   am           |  
|          idiot... la-                 the doll,          |    
|            bel  me a              from  oth-         |    
|            nitwit•for          ers, set far          |    
|                i only                    apart•           |    
|     have my                             i am the     |    
| strings...                                      marione-    
i am but                                             tte who's
a limp                                                        after
pup-                                              your
    ­ pet•                                         heart•
*
.
By far the toughest concrete poem I have ever attempted!

Concrete Poem 29 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
Steele Apr 2015
Do, re, tiring **me.
Fa, So, Latte sounds good.
A sale on tea?
Do ti la "So, how are your scales going?"
My teacher calls; he wants to know.

"FAr from REady." I admit.
I tried to practice steady,
but starbucks had a sale today, so I quit.

"You'll never make the grade like that;
Devote every hour" He says with a glower.
"Go practice your bow. Coffee can wait."
He's right of course, but I still take the bait.

How's a coffee-enthusiast like me
expected to practice enthusiastically?
What's a violinist without caffeine to keep his lights turned to "go"?
When Starbucks conspires to take all my hard earned DOugh?
The struggle, man.
Sky May 2016
Dance on a skeleton tightrope,
Bones strung across a bottomless hole
One foot in front of the other
With spiderwebs holding your wrists prisoner
Pill bottles around the sink
Tapping on their tiptoes
Lined up to greet you,
To pour sleepdeathdarkness down your throat
A knife spins on its scarlet-stained tip
A weeping chasm divides the solidity of your vein
Railroad tracks on snow, the crows lose their voices
And drop feathers into the frost
Feathers fill your head so you cannot thinkspeakbreathe
A kiss of sunshine tries to wake you,
But you’re too far under
The frigid waves
Palms raised to the walls of the iceberg
Lips parted to sing a song of release me please
Hushandshush no one wants to hear you cry, deary
Stitch a smile into your lips
Hide the tears that dance on your vocal strings
No one wants to see the broken doll
Who dances on cracked limbs
Porcelain dancing on thin ice, watch it
S h
A
Tte
R
Watch her fall
No one really wanted to save her after all
Dance in a nightmare, cry in a dream
The pain will make me burst at the seams
I can see the blood spilling
Onto the tile floor
It stains my eyes, it stains my heart
It digs claws into my soul to tear me apart
The fog tranforms into laughing ghosts
Their faces are the masks of tragedy
Their eyes are everything I fear
These are not words that I want to hear
A boy with eyes the color of chocolate and mahogany
Is desperate to keep me safe
But I am afraid
Even the warmest kiss cannot melt the icicles lining my veins
Here I go, to walk the skeleton tightrope,
My tears fall into the bottomless void
Behind me, the monsters ask me to fall
Ahead my soul begs me to
Put one foot
Ahead of the other
Keep walking the skeleton tightrope, forward
Into the gleaming city of hope.
Inner city limits.


I did get on the bus
no fuss
eschewed the tube
and
got the bus.

No point being early today
even if I was there'd be no
one there
anyway
the
caretaker's got the day
off and not taking care
of anyone,

but it's Friday
and why you may ask
does that make a difference?
all I know
is that as days go
Friday's are one of the best.

Standing room
and on tte
lower deck thoughts
drift silently in the quiet
faces of passengers.

Passing the Boorh memorial
a man of god dressed in
sartorial elegance,

Whitechapel
smells of ether and rain.

The Royal London
looks regal
a
palace for tte sick.


Into the city
past Aldgate East
no one at home
but
at least
the lights are on
and now this bus is jammed
spread so thickly with people
that drip like thick treacle
down the aisle,
in a while I beleive
they'll leave
they always do.

On through the Bank
and down to
St. Paul's,
behind me
a solitary
muezzin calls
the
faithful to prayer.

I'm getting there
albeit
slowly
but
the getting is part
of the process
and progression is
just a bonus.
Tu s a cchiù bella 'e tutt' 'e principesse,
'e tutt' 'e principesse si 'a riggina.
Pe tutt' 'a vita addenucchiato io stesse
a cuntemplà sta grazia accussì fina.
Tu femmena nun sì, tu sì na fata
impastata 'e latte, porcellana e rrose,
sta pella è d'alabbastro avvellutata...
(Perdoname si dico chesti ccose).

'Ncopp' a sta vocca fatta cu 'e ccerase,
e 'ncopp' a chesta ***** 'e seta nera
ca tiene pe capille, quanta vase
io nce vulesse dà... matina e sera.

Chist'uocchie tuoie chin' 'e malincunia
ca tiene 'nfronte songo comm' a ll'esca,
songh'uocchie ca me fanno asci 'mpazzia.

St'anema mia s'addorme 'a notte e sonna
sunnanno 'e te, nun te chiamma Francesca;
ma saie comme te chiamma a tte? Madonna!
The more I know
tte less it is so and
so it becomes.

the singularity,
a
sub atomic
hypothesised electronic
peculiarity.
in theory anyway

and theories are what **** us,
ask Pythagoras.

They talk in millions
but
ride with the minions
trying to make more
of
who they've become.

I'm running interference
for a cross border incursion,
this
war may be static but the numbers
mount up.


No one wants to know
it's just the way that
things go and so
it becomes.
Sam Mar 2020
You know those days --
those sad, miserable, sucker-punched in the heart, sort of days --
when all you want, is for the tears to well out of you?
for your tears to flow, so that at least something comes out?
But it's as though you have no more tears left in you.
Your well is all dried up.

It's a bit like my heart, actually,
The way it's dropping,
so
     far
           down
                       in my chest.
(I'm almost worried it'll disappear.)

And I have friends.
I have these wonderful, beautiful, friends of mine -- I have people.
But it feels
                     as though
I am glass.
                     fragile.
                     see-through.

And no matter how I want
                                                   to scream, "HELP!"
the words stay sticky, stuck,
                                                   in my throat.
And in the end, well.
I'm back all alone.

But I am still breathing.
       I am still living.
                still wanting to keep on doing those things.
More than anything, I want to push
that darkness,
that fear,
that lingering sadness, swallowing me whole into its abyss --
I want to push it far, far, away.

But all I can do now, is ask:
"How do I get out of here?"
Like that little lost child, whom I have not been in so long.
And hope
for an answer
that will not come.




-- original, typed in romaji --




Korewa,
Nakitakutemo, nakitakutemo,
Ikiru kotoga zenzen mazushikutte,
Mou, namidawa nai.
tte iu kannji.

Nannka, kokoro ga sukoshi zutsu
"chi-nn" to ochiterumitai.
Soshite, tomodachi ga donnani itemo
Jibunnwa fuyou no gurasu
Mou, toumei mitai ni natte
[Tasukete] to iitakutemo
Kotobawa nodo ni tsuikotte,
Owariniwa mata hitoribochida.

Demo, mada ikiterushi,
             mada ikitai****,
Kono kurosa, kono nayamiwa,
Tookuni oshitai.
Daga, maigo no kodomo no youni,
[Douyatte kokokara deruno?]
toshika kikenai.
The English is a translation of something I wrote a little less than a month ago, other title suggestions welcome. I was having a not fantastic day, so the original was in Japanese. As Hello Poetry doesn't yet allow for kanji characters, I've typed it here using romaji.
juno Feb 2020
to you and your demons

i overtake them until theyre my demons.


youre okay


but im even more broken.


so what?

you're happy and t h ats al l tha t ma tte r s t o m e.
to: no one, everyone, anyone
Tu s a cchiù bella 'e tutt' 'e principesse,
'e tutt' 'e principesse si 'a riggina.
Pe tutt' 'a vita addenucchiato io stesse
a cuntemplà sta grazia accussì fina.
Tu femmena nun sì, tu sì na fata
impastata 'e latte, porcellana e rrose,
sta pella è d'alabbastro avvellutata...
(Perdoname si dico chesti ccose).

'Ncopp' a sta vocca fatta cu 'e ccerase,
e 'ncopp' a chesta ***** 'e seta nera
ca tiene pe capille, quanta vase
io nce vulesse dà... matina e sera.

Chist'uocchie tuoie chin' 'e malincunia
ca tiene 'nfronte songo comm' a ll'esca,
songh'uocchie ca me fanno asci 'mpazzia.

St'anema mia s'addorme 'a notte e sonna
sunnanno 'e te, nun te chiamma Francesca;
ma saie comme te chiamma a tte? Madonna!
Tu s a cchiù bella 'e tutt' 'e principesse,
'e tutt' 'e principesse si 'a riggina.
Pe tutt' 'a vita addenucchiato io stesse
a cuntemplà sta grazia accussì fina.
Tu femmena nun sì, tu sì na fata
impastata 'e latte, porcellana e rrose,
sta pella è d'alabbastro avvellutata...
(Perdoname si dico chesti ccose).

'Ncopp' a sta vocca fatta cu 'e ccerase,
e 'ncopp' a chesta ***** 'e seta nera
ca tiene pe capille, quanta vase
io nce vulesse dà... matina e sera.

Chist'uocchie tuoie chin' 'e malincunia
ca tiene 'nfronte songo comm' a ll'esca,
songh'uocchie ca me fanno asci 'mpazzia.

St'anema mia s'addorme 'a notte e sonna
sunnanno 'e te, nun te chiamma Francesca;
ma saie comme te chiamma a tte? Madonna!

— The End —