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 Nov 2014
axr
in 1 bed
there lay 2 inked bodies
she was filled with pictures
and all of them seemed to mingle perfectly
the eagle on her neck, the hourglass on her waist
He continued looking at her
her soft features,
how every tattoo was a piece by a different artist
but they all were perfect

He was filled with words
and oh, how beautiful he looked in them
the ink flowed in his skin to form various words
Many of them said he might come back stronger than ever
Some were a gentle reminder of loved ones
"Not a single cover up in all these years"
he would flaunt them to her.
She would giggle in response

in 1 bed
lay 2 inked bodies
with 1 heart beating
I got this idea immediately after a nap.
Please comment your thoughts,  I would love to hear them. xo
 Nov 2014
Ena Alysopriono
People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.

"Hi, I'm Fred."

"Hi Fred"

"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."

"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"

"Hi kittylover682"

"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet”

“Hi DaPoet”

“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”

“Hi I’m DYING”

“Hi Dying”

“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Please calm down.”

“Shut up Fred!
There once was a man named Fred,
who got it into his stupid head,
that people needed to be cured,
of the obsession with the written word,
and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”

“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”

“I DON’T WANT A WAY OUT! I HATE TO SHOUT, BUT WITHOUT A DOUBT YOU ARE A BIG DUMB LOUT!”

“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”

“Well then… GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”

“Hi I’m…Sally”

“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”

“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My fourth latest poem started trending!”

“YAY!” *everyone claps and congratulates Sally


“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”

“I don’t want to be cured.”

“I love Hello Poetry”

“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”

“Yes!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”

“YAY!”

“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead

“YAY! FRED IS DEAD!”

“He was hit in the head”

“And we are now free”

“To write continuous poetry!”

“And become more obsessed instead!”

The end.


REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!
REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!
 Nov 2014
Franklin Richards
When you come to me
                        You'll get what you give
The Choice between peace and war
                                                         Is up to you
 Nov 2014
alex grey
The world is constantly changing
In so many ways

I think about the future
And what it will bring
Consumed by computers?
No, that’s a far off thing

Is it my fate to see the end?
Or die before the world does,
I ask a friend,
You know, just because.

There is no answer
This world can give
Ugh, what a disaster
It is to live…
life is funny
 Nov 2014
irinia
when i watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels
or
when i watch you
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s grocery
i say
when i watch you
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
i stand up
through your destruction
i stand up
 Nov 2014
SG Holter
I was a teenager.
a boy unshaven amongst
pimpled, insecure junior
high school brats.

I'd sit in the dark of my room,
hearing my father's smoker's
cough through the wall
under my Pantera.

long hair, biker boots, leather
coats and torn jeans was asking
to be excluded where I lived. oh,
I asked, begged, pleeded that

they would.
some did; most saw me as
a necessity they
compared themselves with

to assure themselves as normal.
mainstream. accepted.
at least I'm not freak like
Holter.


no. I built this confidence and
character alone.
that was my way to walk.
those were my teenage memories.

don't ever be afraid to get noticed.
it takes grit and
confidence; strong legs to
stand out. and stay there.
 Nov 2014
Adam Childs
How I adore her ladyship
The beautiful Royal spider
Enthroned on her own dominion
She delicately threads her silky webb
Intricately weaving her beauty
As her home glistens in the sun
And sparkles in the dew
She sits silently in her center
As though floating in air
All eyes alight
Legs intricately placed on her many
Architectural angles, she demonstrates
Perfect dexterity and agility
Sitting as light as a feather
Perfectly Alert to all, ready and aware
For she controls all

Living my life like a light headed child
I wander freely, from place to place
But nerves begin to embrace
With eyes weighing on my back  
An inner dread fills my soul
As I fear I have fallen in her Web
I twist,  scrabble and struggle  
But it's no use for it is too sticky
Feeling her every movement
Making me sea sick on her web
Her eyes bearing down on me
I feel a thousand bricks on my back
My jellified legs begin to wobble
As she casts a shadow over me
I am wrapped in confusion of this spider's control
Sticking and attaching her emotional ties
I freeze within the spider's bite
I screech, shriek and holler
As I cry
And scream for mercy
But as spiders cannot hear
I find my destiny sealed


Looking to heaven above
I weep, I cry
To God for help
Then with all the lord's elegance
A Beautiful Glorious spider
Began descending from heaven
A dignified Royalty, A great magnificence
A commander of both
Love and Respect
Adoring her graceful entrance
I collapse in her presence
Crouching down beside me
She comforts and caresses
Wrapping her legs around me like a very warm blanket
She lean's in and whispers, in my ear
"Bite her", I cried
I am a good person I cannot bite her
Raising her voice she repeats
BITE HER !!!!!!

She pushes me further
Into this Silent world
Where there is no anger, no fear ,
No vengeance or guilt
No judgement ,  good or bad
No love or hate
I lie within this silent world
Somewhere beyond it all
With this clinically clear mind
Like an SS soldier, I strike without thought
Quickly and decisively
Biting hard I bury my teeth deep
A tear drops from my eyes
As I hear her yelp
I feel remorse and regret
As like with a long lost friend
My emotions return
I see her distress and confusion
But I am pulled back as I am told
She needs to find the center of her own Web

Through understanding
Her Majesty, Her Royalty
And loving her complete magnificence
We discover the anti venom
By understanding her venom
Through the unification of that understanding
We can all learn to be
The commander of our own domain
As I give my love to the Royal Spider

_______________
I wrote this when i was spending a lot of time with a controlling person who had quite a negative impact on my life and general happiness at the time  and I that found the spider had a lot of my answers
 Nov 2014
Joanna Oz
the factory workers of my prefrontal cortex
are on a raucous strike because,
the train chugging them to lunch breaks at my amygdala
has been broken down for days.
and the now strained relay of packets of faxes from this neuron
to the one all the way south on Abbey Lane,
is creating untold pressure for Wernicke -
so forgive me if i ask you to rephrase.

despite the absent hoarded salivating mouths,
the deli in my amygdala keeps on producing
thousands of ******* italian subs,
so now the place floods with grease-sweat from old meat
that would make a carnivore remit...
and it's seeping, leaking poison to Broca,
who is now refusing to explain herself
to the confused face projected on my retina's blurred screen.

the mitochondria housed in my somatasensory
are all comatose from last night's debauchery.
so everything is still,
numb to the touch
blank on the face
dead in the eyes -
unaware of the incessant twitching
that's rolling through my joints, muscles, skin, sore red thighs.

every nucleus of every cell
restarting again, again, again,
but rebooting isn't clearing the glitch in the system.
so just lie here with me,
broken machine to broken machine -
our hearts still glisten.
 Nov 2014
Jamie L Cantore
In unconventional form my thoughts are not restrained,
nor is my curious charm, for neither shalt be tamed,
and those unchained thoughts fairer are
when incongruently arranged; and wilt be perceived by
sights power and the apprehension gained.

Therefore, against all burden I resist, and readily carry the
suppleness of my worthy bearing
-here where I literally speak no words in a
wordplay tryst unerring.
 Nov 2014
Maximilian Ilagan
How do I even start?
my mind can't construct a thought
about how the idea of
you and I
would be the thought
I never thought
I would have sought.

and no matter how I try to turn this
thought
into
reality,
I awake from this daydream
and get plunged into this nightmare
that
you and I
will forever be just a
memory.
I really just needed to let my creative juices flow or I'd explode right now. Hope you guys like it! Yay for Unrequited love!!!
 Nov 2014
Lonely girl
I want to write poem tonight...
I want to run out of my sight...

To hug myself & go to hell...
To tell it bye & then it tell...

To punish myself because of my past...
God will show me my life's broadcast...

I am 19 but where is my youth...
I know where it is,I know the truth...

Don't shout myself ! Be quiet please...
Don't be angry ! breath & release...

Why should U confess,my dear heart...!
You should be silent in this part...!
bad days will pass... i will be calm ...
 Nov 2014
Helen
Breathe in, Breathe out
one, two, three
When I die
I leave nothing

you see?

I leave no words spoken
just written in time
They won't weather
on parchment
They will just disintegrate
as pixels exploding
All new stars appearing
will someday day be mine

And the pictures I painted
will be painted over again
One day when they are remembered
they maybe scraped back
I'll be remembered then

When I die,
I'll take nothing with me
I'll take no conscious thought
or fundamental memory

I'll take no decisions
that affect my past
I'll take no hatred
because at the last

All I have written
all I have painted
all that I wished
in innocence
would be tainted

When I die
it will just be me
*my couple of regrets
and a million subconscious
memories
Good morning, Good evening and Good Night :)
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