#time poems on Hello Poetry

TheLees Apr 30

A park bench, and
A yellow orb nukes its core
a million times per second in space.
Somewhere, a man spoke his last word,
Or an infant giggled at her father’s scruff.
A black hole light-years away
engulfed another black hole of lesser mass;
the surrounding planets spaghettified.
Yes, this park bench is.
And you,
sit there with a leg over mine.
Wrinkles on your iris orbit a black hole,
visible because of our star.
It's just you and I,
sitting on a bench.

#space #love #sweet #cosmic #alive #time #bench #real

Fumbletongue Apr 29

Even Happiness Has Its Wrinkles

Each smile a map, each line a trail,
Etched softly on the skin's embrace.
A journey marked in fine detail,
The story written on your face.

The laugh that danced around the eyes
Still lingers in a softened fold,
A map of moments, lows and highs,
A quiet story, gently told.

Not every crease was born from pain,
Some stem from joy that overflowed.
Expressions that we can't restrain,
Emotions that our hearts bestowed.

So wear these lines with quiet pride,
They are the footprints of your days.
A testament to life applied,
A living poem on your face’s page.

Time always tells no matter the canvas. When I look at others I can't help but notice their resting face and what it says about how they feel about their life.

We have earned everyone of our wrinkles. I refuse to try to make them disappear to look more attractive to anyone. If you can't see beauty in the life that I lived on my body then honey you aren't my people.

#happiness #wrinkles #time #truth

Heidi Franke Apr 29

Each Song

Every thing made,
Not from human-kind
As if humans knew
Kindness, From this earth
Has a song each its own.

The melodies of every stone
Of every branch, from every
Droplet of a wave,
The Wave itself
Lends a message that is held
Together by the sun.

The lyrics cast light
On every shadow
Drawing maps of age
And wisdom along a line of Ink
So fine that it remains hidden
Behind what it means to be alive.

Every thing is a seed
With its own song
Rooting up for no reason
Heavy, even as the weight
Of a raindrop tries to be measured
In its sheer amount, the music will
Outlast this and every season
Beyond this
the orchestra of time.

#time #seed #song #music #earth

S Apr 29

Time Capsule

I keep trying to connect to my younger self-
I’ve been reading old journals,
listening to old Ed Sheeran albums-
wondering, “Did I really love this magenta color so much”?

Attempting to feel the way that she did.
Feeling her excitement-
her joy-
her passions.

I have been rediscovering that my past self and I have been through many things. Things that I don’t think about because they are too hard to think about, or simply things that I have forced myself to forget about- like putting my memories on paper and then burning them in a fire.

She was a really sad person.
She struggled.
She was anxious.
She was depressed.
She hated herself.
She had moments of unwavering positivity but there was so much self doubt.

She still is a really sad person.
She still struggles.
She is anxious.
She is depressed.
She hates herself, sadly so.
She still has moments of unwavering positivity but there is still so much self doubt.

I guess some parts of us never change, despite us wanting them too.

Trying to come back to my comfort space of writing, I don’t know if anyone even follows me anymore, but this is for me

#depression #anxiety #memories #reflection #time #capsule

Robert Apr 28

Lifes grand waltz

Grand is the waltz of time in which life leads us.
She keeps the beat, her metronome slowly ticking at first.
It's a beautiful dance of conflict and trust;
And half way through life picks up the pace.
Twirling you faster and harder than she must.
The pace doesn't slow, like a truck without brakes.
Till the music fades, and life goes away with the dust.
Then as if nothing happens, death gently grips your hand.
Intending on continuing the dance as he must.

#time #life #death

Gary Apr 28

Time

Age is but a number,
numbers we carry for life —
like heartbeats in a minute,
or scars from a surgeon’s knife.

Some numbers hold more value:
some count them on a chart;
others count time together,
or the hours they spend apart.

Time is so unforgiving,
each second a grain of sand;
slipping through our fingers,
slipping through our hands.

#time

NostalgicFeeling Apr 27

Forgotten

Maybe if I had looked for you,
Thought this through,
You´d have come by,
I´d have caught your eye,
You´d come around-
Finally we´d be bound:
A heap of cold bones,
You´d find headstones,
My flesh so long rotten,
Just like always, forgotten.

27/4/25

#sad #love #time #waiting #longing #hoping #dark #forget #bones

Kngblaq Apr 27

Night Time

Night Time
A darkness that guarantees shelter
From the scorch of the burning Sun
A time cherished after the light
And assures rest from the day's work

A time of unprecedented happening
When good and evil shake hands
As they each take turns moving men
Like pawns on a chessboard
One trying to checkmate the other

A time when men sleep but don't sleep
Where powers that be meet and greet
A time when angels visit and demons possess
Binding us infinitely to the Divine

This piece offers an exploration of nighttime, it's complexities and symbolic meanings

#time #night #good #read

Piyush Apr 27

Chaos

Born with nothing in my hand,
I stumbled into this land—
Once a dream,
Now swallowed by chaos' stream.

Here, three things stand:
War,
A gun,
And death’s command.

A war for broken minds,
A gun to silence signs,
A death to erase a name—
And still, they smile at the game.

But I refuse to live this dream.
I seek a place beyond the screams.
Isn't it funny, to hope and cross,
For peace inside a world of chaos?

#chaosplacelife #time #poetry #dream

Shang Apr 26

between breath

I want to feel the day
from inside the end —
dreams, lips, god —
they are the past,
folded into light.

Memories sound so
different through
your ears,
like distant rivers
we once named hope.

The moon caressed
your cheek,
and I was once there,
a shadow caught
between breath and becoming.

Time unraveled
its silver thread,
tying our names
to the hush of stars.

We spoke in the language
of undone things,
our voices trembling
at the edge of always.

And in that stillness,
where all endings sing,
I felt the day
begin again
inside you.

for the moments that feel like both the beginning and the end

#poetry #existence #memory #philosophy #time #dreams #lovlove