Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"uncrowded" poems
Pounding bass. Sub-sonic strobes. Synthetic smoke. Alone on the dance-floor I was glad to see another clubbers curves move in rhythm; Uninhibited by the foot tapping brigade who watched with intensity. You edged ever closer Till our smiles became infectious. An uncertain bond of understanding, amid an endless rush of acidic bleeps. Uncluttered. Uncrowded. Mystically shrouded in transient beats, we strangers come together in unity Your hips move to the pneumatic bass as transient hardhouse and tribal breakbeats embrace, The foot tappers again resume, Spontaneous rushes and some sulphur that is sour to taste. We may have unzipped and consumed to electronic tunes, but the tune remains the same - Beautiful stranger dream a dream for me because now all we have between us is Rain.
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:09 AM UTC
Clubbers Paradise
22:21 i stand at the train platform, It’s freezing. I can’t feel my fingertips. 22:25 light up a cigarette, I inhale it like warm air. 22:28 silence. 22:44 train finally arrives. People rushing out, people rushing in. I search for a dark, uncrowded corner. 22:45 I sit at the window row, Earphones on. It’s warm, I feel tired. Close my eyes, fade away. 23:05 next stop. I look outside. A young couple hugging tight. She grabs her suitcase and looks at him. He grabs her. They kiss like crazy. She points her fingers at the door button. He pulls her closer. They seem so sad. He keeps her in his arms like she is the last hope for happiness. They kiss again. 23:07 train leaves. They stand at the platform. She grabs his hand. She grabs her suitcase. They don’t look back just walk straight ahead. 23:08 I can’t see them anymore. She choose him over maybe everything or nothing. 23:10 I close my eyes again. All that I can see is ****** written „what if‘s“. 23:15 I ask myself with a broken voice „what if you would have never left“?
0
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
What if
If I could dance with all the shadows In the night, when humans don't stir In the softest, darkest hallows, Squinted eyes, all the lighting blurs Through the seconds of time passing In moments, slept by most It's not funny, but I'm laughing To this little world, I am a ghost Down the streets, uncrowded I walked bustling places at noon But in this witching hour, The earth can be the loneliest room. In dim lit lights, I see myself Through mirrors of stores closed The most comfortable I ever felt As the softest wind just blows. If I could dance with all the shadows They'd want me all for keeps The darkness would slowly creep Taking me to the darkest gallows As if I was theirs for them to take So run and run all the way home To a place so very known Until the world soon becomes awake
0
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 4:07 PM UTC
Night Walk
When you woke up today, did you take your mask off? Did you inhale the oxygen of uncrowded air and drink water for a free mouth? Did you eat and taste foods that you haven’t tasted properly in a long time? Did you mark the blue veins in your wrist and remember you are alive? Did you breathe out the monsters that stirred your dreams? After all, they were the reason why you wore the mask. Maybe you can’t help but put it on again, Or maybe take it off just a second, and remember who you are without it.
0
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 6:30 AM UTC
Proposal
I was walking with my Brother, my faraway Mother, and it began to rain down blood.      We approached my car, the parking lot was grey and tired and uncrowded. As these red tears fell against our shoulders, marking our clothes indefinitely, the two of them said blasphemy and I walked on. "Yes. It's been raining red wine recently." We looked up to admire it easy and unskeptical; my brother's mouth widened. A droplet overpassed my lips. I smelled it, tasted it: Iron, Bile. "It's not wine,"I said. My brother spit his mouthful out, and he started up explaining us The horrors of our current climate change. Chemical rain was coming on now daily. The clouds and sky purged out the rest of their discolored agony, and I was astounded by its elegance, color. At least this was something new.
0
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
What was i dreaming about?
I wander in the sunspots On the bank of the river Visit the place where I felt sure The green one sat last night Wanted to go to her then Forest had other plans then So I learned solitude Separated it from loneliness Uncrowded all alone Clear your head some for going home
0
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
Clear Your Head Some For Going Home
Life The Final Game: My heart started with love, support. life; Seeking love, life. liberty, and a chance by chance, to support my fellow man,My heart now deserted and uncrowded, Stands strong and unafraid. Words that touched me before, now slash like sickles in a semi-colon of; love slashes /// Meaningless nothings to a wounded heart - Words leaving deep wounds, slashes that follow the nothingness of, long silences. Leaving periods and dots at the ending....Not even a Question mark.? Asking... Yet you have accepted all the ropes I have thrown you..and burned all the bridges I built for you to cross. In this the final board game of life..... I teeter on this rope no longer, when I cross over again my heart will not remember sacrifice nor love. Survival is a board game - My spinning head, now landing on (village idiot), I roll the dice twice, "If you land on the( evil forest ),you may lose this game", says the space on which I landed -"If you roll the dice and land on {pull a card},you may receive instructions on how to save your self. If you Land on the( Church Negroes),They will ask you to sing with them, Partake of unclean food with them. As you starve they will ask you for offerings, Which they then give to their already rich podium pimps. If you Land on (Whites-Only ); They will judge you for not being their( happy token) See they have saved you and the natives from the flies and fathom.They say "see your own people are killing you".. You need "Jesus" . Wait on him.... As I pull my last card and take my last spin I land on,( "Pure Hearts") They are few, "You must stay amongst these who has shown you their true colors" reads the card. For they are your hope, and will never abandon you. Your kind will not always be easy to spot, However you must learn to discern by their spirit - You will not recognize them by race alone; Remember "those who you have rescued one time,. or many times,will leave you to perish, and will not necessarily rescue nor even remember you in the end.
0
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:20 AM UTC
Life The Final Game
Life The Final Game: My heart started with love, support. life; Seeking love, life. liberty, and a chance by chance, to support my fellow man,My heart now deserted and uncrowded, Stands strong and unafraid. Words that touched me before, now slash like sickles in a semi-colon of; love slashes /// Meaningless nothings to a wounded heart - Words leaving deep wounds, slashes that follow the nothingness of, long silences. Leaving periods and dots at the ending....Not even a Question mark.? Asking... Yet you have accepted all the ropes I have thrown you..and burned all the bridges I built for you to cross. In this the final board game of life..... I teeter on this rope no longer, when I cross over again my heart will not remember sacrifice nor love. Survival is a board game - My spinning head, now landing on (village idiot), I roll the dice twice, "If you land on the( evil forest ),you may lose this game", says the space on which I landed -"If you roll the dice and land on {pull a card},you may receive instructions on how to save your self. If you Land on the( Church Negroes),They will ask you to sing with them, Partake of unclean food with them. As you starve they will ask you for offerings, Which they then give to their already rich podium pimps. If you Land on (Whites-Only ); They will judge you for not being their( happy token) See they have saved you and the natives from the flies and fathom.They say "see your own people are killing you".. You need "Jesus" . Wait on him.... As I pull my last card and take my last spin I land on,( "Pure Hearts") They are few, "You must stay amongst these who has shown you their true colors" reads the card. For they are your hope, and will never abandon you. Your kind will not always be easy to spot, However you must learn to discern by their spirit - You will not recognize them by race alone; Remember "those who you have rescued one time,. or many times,will leave you to perish, and will not necessarily rescue nor even remember you in the end.
Continue reading...
8
I lie suspended Weightless In the crystal clear warmth Of the Ionian Sea As pebbles clatter and tumble and wash From sea to shore and back. Dreams flood in Of pure white sands Uncrowded seas Villages of creams and pinks and blues. Ancient history And troubled modern times Mix With vibrant splashes Of stunning bougainvillea. Agile swallows swoop and dart and dance Broken rocks and mortar Scatter the land Skeletons of another time Left by the earth's shaking fury. The air fills with aromatic wild herbs A revered Saint From 500 years before Encased in silver and gold Beneath the mountain Ainos. Olive groves Orange and lemon trees abound Smiling friends Special times remembered. My Cephalonia.
0
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
Cephalonia Remembered (2009)
I like it better when we're by ourselves where the others she tells them she's someone else by ourselve the heart burns and I drink the water the heart burns worse when I'm myselvf the theater's uncrowded our perch the dark top empty shelf absolution crushing cushion felt tethered together left by someone else
0
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
someone else
The west is a lonely ritual... Seeded in florescence, Quiet but self-aware indifference. Barely breathing, Fireworks, gunshots, lightening, Unrequiting. Where dawn is bright and out of place, and beneath it cardboard cutout estates. Where eyes are fraught with glaring rejection, And where we only cross paths at highway intersections. And headlights echo deep wandering beams, And shine palely into our uncrowded dreams. Human warmth is replaced by electric heating And people become cold, cold, cold and fleeting.
0
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:09 PM UTC
Cities and suburbs