#poetry about me

[kholkate]

Sometimes I feel like I'm a person between worlds. Not in this one and not in the other; but passing between in blossoms of spring and the blur of August. Watching the seasons pass as I remain the same, only older.

#my musings #poetry about me

[munchaela]

Little bitter-sweet ballad of me.

Once I heard about art. And I tried it. And never regret it. Because now I feel like I AM art. 

Once I heard about love. And I didn’t want to try it. But I did. And now...I regret it. Because now I feel like... I sold my heart. 

And what’s my heart without art?

He... 

#art #poetry #littlepoetry #ballad #poetry about me #books #artists on tumblr #artsy #artist #original art #artwork #poemsaboutlove #poems #poemsociety #poemsoftheday #inspirational poems #short poems #poems on tumblr #lovepoems #lovepoetry #poetr about art #poetry about him #poetry about life #poetry about heartbreak #young arist #writing #writeaway #writers #writer on tumblr #writer online

[zafaraelgrimskee]

Are We Mad?

Questions answering questions gets us nowhere so it seems.

Time is relative and splitting at the seams.

Nowhere to go, with everything to see;

though you are as blind as one can be.

Refusing to grasp a singular truth

as we endure the agony of our eternal youth.

There is joy on your face as days slip by;

you are a kite flying ever so high.

We are grounded, rooted, chained, and bound

staring at clock hands that never go round.

You are free in this place, you get to escape reality;

we are sentenced to asylum for eternity.

You were to be our savior,

acquit us of our insanity;

not resign from your position and let our minds fester uselessly.

Running, skipping, leaping, and your feet pound the ground

droning on within my addled mind-the sound

of your voice a screeching car wreck

and my laughter? ,well, it resounds.

Do you enjoy yourself, here, in this land of wonder and contentment?

Cause every little thing about you is a bane upon my existence.

Watching and waiting and itching and twitching

scratching and biting and listing and fitting

into madness like the final piece of a puzzle

glassy eyes gazing nowhere sundered from my soul

and this blood on my hands must have somewhere to go?

The eyes that pin me are full of pity

though why I do not know

except that they are leaving this place finally, yet-

leaving me all alone.

I beg the clock, verbally,

to tick

just, one more tock.

Inherently I am patient though it does not gift me a response.

Absently I am wandering

a loop I cannot escape

and distantly I am shivering-

or so I think.

I ask your shadow why this happened,

I recieve a silent reply.

I breathe a sigh into the air

that hovers over your motionless head;

"I detested questions answering questions, but who answers questions when we're dead?"

#dystopian poetry #poetry about me #dark poetry #my poetry #poetry #poets #poetic #poets corner #poetscommunity #poets on tumblr #madness #mad hatter #loosely inspired by alice in wonderland #alice in wonderland #loosely i swear

[corina-badircea]

Antibiotic Sufletul meu Rātācit În mediul abiotic Ascultā Glasul tāu senin, ca ANTIBIOTIC!

#clar #drag #dragostea e tot #iubire #poetry about me #poezie #viata

[headoverheelsamy]

I Am From....

Adapted by Levi Romero

Inspired by "Where I'm From" by George Ella Lyon

  I am from my warm, purple paradise I call my bed

From the broken brown couch and the square brown table.

I am from the two story, white house

That smells like wet dog and kitty litter.

I am from the roaming deer in the greenbelt

The round dead bushes

Whose distinctive rustle

Reminds me I'm home.

I'm from bear hugs and baby kisses

From my sister Aubrey and my retired parents.

I'm from crazy laughs and boring mornings

And from the occasional screaming fight.

I'm from good night sleeps and words so sweet

And "In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen"

I'm from Thanksgiving dinner, which is usually my birthday.

I'm from the great San Antonio and my huge melting pot

Homemade breakfast tacos and chicken soup too.

From my Asian loving sister

With long, curly, raven black hair

Whose moments I have I treasure like no other.

By Amy Barber Date 1/22/2013

#poem #i am from #Poetry #poetry about me #about me

[fiveyearsafter-blog]

I Hope

Outside your window this morning was a bird that wanted to be a tiger. And on the sidewalk was a dog that wanted to be a goldfish, and in the cornerstore was a cashier that wanted to be a samuri warrior and in the Buger King I went to at lunch time was a child that wanted to be Batman and in my mirror, was a man that wanted to be free. My arms, are holding onto a history that my blood has no desire to unlearn.My shoes, took me through the hot breath of Gods watching people from a place we haven't cried enough to dream of. I always wanted to know what heaven really looked like, so I can determine if living a good life was worth it. You wanted to be a dancer, and yet with each step you take, there's a 60 peice orchestra tuning up, waiting for you to skip over cracks in the sidewalk, you are this movement Wild and wiltering you are this breath soft and thunderous. And the heat coming off the parking lots and car hoods, always wanted to be water sprinklers, because who hates a water sprinkler! But I haven't seen a butterfly yet today, because while we all went on with paperwork and metal production, with meal orders and garbage pickup, the butterfly sat upon a shaded ledge and looked though an office building, and refused to let us see it flying, as it nibbled on a breadcrumb, and knew right then, it now wanted, to be you!

#poetry about me

[fiveyearsafter-blog]

Present

you ran today with a wolverine inside your shoes. I hope you woke this morning with a thousand ways a thousand songs are sung to the thousand times your eyes told the sky, that not all that shines is above us. I hope that you are drinking water right now. Water has been there before the dinasors or the methods used to depict them. water has survived fires and wars, and stays calm until shaken awake. water is pure and undying, as are my thoughts you. I hope you saw a tree this morning that held the secrect of why you have mission statements of colorful dreams on the corners of your mouth, buried within its rings. I hope this poem makes you feel that your heart has so much room to grow, and will have so much time to do it in, and that every color you can ever taste, became that way because it had the honor of being inside of you. I hope you had a good breakfast this morning! I hope that time carries you in its fingers like bananas and cookies. I hope you look into your mirror, that dusted itself, anticipating your reflection, and realized that inside the glass was the most beautiful thing that words haven't traveled enough to describe. I hope you know that all your past mistakes and all your past failures and doubts and wishes, are all in your past, and that as long as you breathe, you will have the chance to make more. I hope this for you, while the ground lays in waiting for your feet to walk upon it, while the door, leading to a freadom that a weekday couldn't possibly understand, waits for your hands to touch them. In my arms is a song that sounds like your midnight, and it swims to my eyes to see you smile. And when I go I will places kisses upon the wind, to go to your heart, and hope you never forget me.

#poetry about me