#poems poems on Hello Poetry

AprilSalvatore Mar 30

The Silence of Stars

Stars don’t burn, they just fade.
They’re not lights, they’re holes—
Torn bits of the sky,
Tucked away in the night
So no one sees them rot.

People speak of them like gods,
But they’re just frozen screams—
Unheard, long-dead screams
That once thought they could reach somewhere,
But never made it.

You stare at them, thinking you’re looking at hope.
But all you're seeing is dust,
A reminder of something that
Was never truly alive to begin with.
They died before they had a chance to matter.

The silence they leave?
That’s all we ever get.
It’s the same silence you feel
In the pit of your chest
When the world falls away and
You’re left with just yourself,
Empty, staring at empty.

Stars are just lies dressed in light—
A final cruelty,
Making you believe something
That was never real.
-Salvatore

This is written by Salvatore, published by April. All credits to Salvatore.

#poems #stars

AprilSalvatore Apr 4

Humanity is a Cracked Mirror

Humanity is a cracked mirror,
a thousand faces, none of them whole.
It smiles with blood in its teeth,
shakes hands with one fist clenched.

It builds towers, writes books,
paints skies with its brilliance—
then sets it all on fire,
just to watch the glow.

It sings of love, of peace, of hope,
but only when the knives are dull.
Give it time—give it hunger—
and it will eat its own.

Yet still, we stare into the shards,
searching for something real,
pretending the fractures
were never there.
-Salvatore

This is written by Salvatore, published by April. All credits to Salvatore.

#poems #humanity

Norbert Tasev Apr 4

Preaching of distorted age

As in confused water, the sludge sits down in the heart and soul of man now well a memory, past, and present; What the other is interested in the exibitionist embryo surface, when it does, scraps its own selfish-mushy profit-making every day. Wave-broken, crushed torso images clings to the fragments of those who have not yet been forgotten and may not really be able to recreate or re-create a broken situation, a gesture of gestures, the dance of manipulative pupils that can be seen on waxy faces.

He sits with a curved soul, tame, and obese the hesitant indifference, if there is none, no longer, which would actually be rebellious. Soft, snow-white babies rumble roller drums and pikes to see if someone else hears. Why, how can a man be only a spinning sacrifice for this current nonsense, vulnerable age?!

Distorted sermon speeches proclaim sufficiently rotting ideas, which, if no one cares, lightly pimple and wash the brain's thoughtful creative tissue. The thought - feared - can hardly scream. Because perhaps a long time in man has been accumulated in every reason to be disgusted and nailed to the stupid, humble wickedness.

For sure, what is certain, it would be good to understand what is certain; Man is running deeper, even in the spiral of refugees, if you think you want to finally understand yourself for a lifetime. Every lap will run around, maybe you can come back to you once!

#lyre #prose #poems #literature #life #picture #social #poetry #poem

tatum spencer Apr 3

screams of the silent

smoke lingered throughout the air
illuminating my father’s face
and shadowing my mother’s
the bud of the cigarette catching fire
the somberness of this second fading in the distance
a memory being erased
the screams gone silent
her hysterical tears scrubbed harshly from her face
the look of shock smeared from mine
but father stayed still
through the cries he stayed still
and he let the moonlight trickle in through the window
reflecting off of his watch
the seconds ticking into minutes
and transitioning into hours.

we sit for hours in silence
in grief, torment, misery
letting the sound of shuddered breath
and last drags of cigarettes
ghostly wisps in the air
fill the room.

#poems #poetry #writing #prose

Norbert Tasev Apr 3

OSTRICH-STEP WALL SPACE

With a naive, almost smiling, faithful faith, I did not know for a long time that the world was saturated with blood, dirt, filth. Wherever I look, I look like a crowd of human-mass dariders, like so many flat-off worms traveling in flat-off, who would be able to ride each other, if they could do it. The only question is who is better off with the ins and outs of bribe, manipulation, who has enough dare to dream and step forward with a great big ostrich steps?!

I feel like pulling towards the vortex of depths every day, pulling down the many millions of scrambles and petty intrusion of everyday life; Because everyone wants to get ahead of the rank, but in love, just like the superficial, exibimentist words of the pseudo-pads, just as just the ladder, but in love.

This currently disappointing, fat flattening in this current world is a bile mixed with nausea towards my throat, and if I need to, if I need it, only my own sins, pathetic childish clown shots, if they can count on anything.

I deliberately left the company of dogmas that preach, and I deliberately left the moles of ivory towers, but I don't have to listen to so many incomprehensible, folly rice texts about the promises of the uncertain future.

It is not possible to slow down the rarely stolen time to become a holy shelter of instantaneous rich words, just like for minutes; Because it can be delayed for decades, while "some" continue to bury the old-fashioned cannibal time!

#lyre #literature #life #pictures #social #prose #poetry #poems

Abbott J Hardison Apr 2

Scrapbook Poem #172

True love,
Who love?
You, love.

Sometimes it's not about pushing, you just have to enjoy.

#love #scrapbook #poems

K Apr 1

Still Incandescent

Marbled,
guiding madness of delicate
fragile yet submissive
ear *******

Fragile
as a live symphony