#objects poems on Hello Poetry

Marisa Hope Feb 2015

You Said You Didn't Want A Poem Written About You

You confuse me to no end,
Play games with my mind.
Yet I can never say no to you,
I always think we're fine.
It all started with a knock on the door,
Do you see why I have trust issues?
You're rude, degrading, and constantly make me feel like ****.
But all I want is to believe that you care,
That there's a friendship there.
I get it, we're friends, I don't want anything more either,
But it feels like you're on a quest to hook up with my friends,
And that you only want me when you're bored.
It's like I put you on this pedestal,
Because all I wanted was to feel something.
But you just make me feel like ****.
I feel like an object to you,
Like I'm nothing more than a piece of paper.
So why do I keep crawling back?
Why do I always say yes?
It's like I can't say no to you.
You've built property and you're here to stay.
I'm never kidding when I say you can leave,
And when I confront you, you blow it off.
So what the **** do you want from me?
Because I just want your honesty.

#trust #confused #friendship #confusion #caring #care #stuck #object #objects

Anjana Rao Nov 2014

Free Write: Object

At first I thought it was a mini book,
but the moment I picked it up…

No, just a piece of art.
Just art?

Still important, yes,
but what could
"Very Different Animals"
by Frank Sherlock
be about?

I was to find out,
clips removed
and awe regained -
What a surprise!
What lines!
                     "Refigure
                      a strand of DNA
                      & you might
                      understand Me & I
                      are very different animals"
Suddenly my respect
for this art piece is
elevated.

I picked the Best object
I want it, want to keep it
a 5 minute free write
is not enough to describe this.

I scar words
and the meaning
is gone,
I always need
more time with words
                                        "What
                                          is the nature of this
                                          nature?"

I scan quick
for lines I could recycle
lines I could hold on to
I'm always grasping
for words,
that's what we writers do.
I skim the pages
and then
it all starts to feel like its all nonsense,
writing is funny that way
and if I only had more
time to read
[there will be time,
there will be time]
there's never enough time.

A free write/poem if you will that I did a few weeks ago in this free writing workshop I've been sticking with. The idea was to pick an object and write about it for 5 minutes. Mine was a tiny handmade book. Again, I made a few edits when I typed this all out.

#free #write #objects

R Saba Nov 2014

survival, somehow

i step out
and the rain greets me like a blessing
bestowed by some great silence
i speak to each sunday
and i take this as an answer
because why the hell not

i am suddenly sure i have left something behind
but no, my bag is there
notebooks tucked under my arm
ipod clutched in one hand
phone safe inside my jacket
consorting with my keys
(proof I've got somewhere to go)
travel mug empty, wallet full
of receipts and loyalty cards

finally, pricked by the bent arm of a button
i give up, knowing it's all in my head
and i have everything i need to survive today

still, i feel like something's missing

my right hand clings to my scarf
fingers tight, knuckles white
as if to say
"give me something to hold onto"
and the rain that stings my face reminds me

i have everything i need to survive today
except you

#love #lost #rain #piece #feeling #missing #holding #description #objects

rsc Aug 2014

(so recites the repository)

Cell phone shield in hand,
the mirror-me peers
into a shoddy, cracked up
dream reflector-slash-protector
as I make amends with
my agitated mitochondria and
attempt to drill miniscule holes into
paper dolls without ripping them.

So screams the wall hanging!
Banshees dance, falling
into cyclical romances as
cream colored microphones peek
out around one-way windows wondering
whether or not the smiles will hold.
Eyes still,
eyes wrinkles crinkling,
spit spray sprinkling.
Connect to the dreamers.
Push your plug into
my cracking wall sockets,
pull me apart at the seams.

So cries the doorstopper!
Knees bleed from
street corner séances
and eyes green grass
that's afraid to ask
where its clover went
but heavens, it's bent for hell.
Pray tell me, burping chickadee,
when did your teeth glass over
with a film of cerulean and
your bones start sailing
through tepid reminders that
you may end this life a failure,
swallowing Uncle Ben's rice packet trash
at the dark black bottom of the Pacific?

So sighs the statue!
Broken walkie talkies
feed red back to nothing
and knick knack hoarders note
the familiar festering of deadly bacteria
in the lungs and on the
tippy top of the tongue.
Space cadets rocket
through concrete jungles containing
apartment after
apartment after
apartment filled with
mannequins filled with
sand filled with
unevenly severed hands.

So speaks the ornament!
So declares the dashboard decal!
Sensual scholarly seekers
seem so totally hip
and read feminist poetry
to dispel the myths
and spit on the irony.
I won't dare to flatter you
with the focused attention of stone
or allow the personable picture frame
to make the secrets of
the microscopic universe known.

So suggests the ship siren!
So recites the repository!
Empty yourself into me,
adopt a new philosophy,
abandon in within two weeks
so I can see and you can seep,
your fluttering robin heart to keep
and glaciers to arrive upon
a salty brown eternal sleep.
Deliver me to the melting shopping mall!
The centennial fire alarm goes off
at the tip of the cliff,
at the end of the hall.

#life #universe #college #objects #streamofconciousness

-marcesibleghost Jul 2014

Invisible Objects.

You know it’s nothing but emptiness,
When you fail phrasing your feelings in words.
Other people might call it love rather than emptiness.

But let me tell you this:
Without emptiness,
We wouldn’t find warmth in love.

Some say love is frigidly cold,
Some say love is fondly warm.
Yet as seasons change from Summer to Winter,
Love will too.

And I’ve reached the point where I stopped seeking for love in people,
But in invisible objects that can keep me alive.

Can invisible objects really keep you alive?
Or will they leave you terrified?

Well, a definition for ‘Invisible Objects’ would be:
‘Emotions’.
And in the end,
Their purpose is to Not. Keep. You. Alive.

#love #feelings #depression #alive #thoughts #emotions #invisible #emptiness #objects

Andrea Baca Jun 2014

Untitled

Describe beauty to me.
Because it is some thing to be beautiful and another to have an object with sparing "0"'s attached to it.

#beauty #true #money #objects

Cassandra Leigh Jun 2014

Objects

I am seen more frequently as an object than a human being
People act as if there is no soul inside the mannequin they're seeing

I am referred to by things like "****, beautiful, and Honey"
When I answer with offence they say they're only being funny

I walk away feeling degraded with an overwhelming sense of shame
Strangers make me hate myself and never learn my name

To hear a ****** cat call sends a shiver down my spine
to be objectified is understated, and society says it's fine

It makes me sick when I am treated like a piece of meat
My one solution is to cut two eye holes in an old bed sheet

When strangers say I'm pretty I no longer feel an ere of confidence and pride
I feel a need to run away, be alone, and hide

I've been facing a lot of discrimination, and ****** harassment lately. When you are in a position like this often times people are too afraid to speak up. I know I've been, so I guess I'll let it out here.

#hide #beautiful #run #strangers #sick #objects #harassment #predators

CE Thompson May 2014

still life

the ten dollar bill is folded over on itself
she cannot see the zero, only the one before it
as it sits there undisturbed beside the empty bottles
one beer, one water
one prescription lotion
cap still lying open as the
comfort inside hardens into dust
and the room is full of nothing at all
but the empty and the misinterpreted
as she lay there staring in the still silence of life
no noise, no light
no sign of motion
in the entire house but the
gentle tap of her fractured fingers against her leg

#broken #alone #silence #tired #worth #boredom #value #objects

— The End —