Best Hollowed Poems


This Hollowed Life

It's like your world is ending 
Everything comes crashing down
Can't catch your breath
Down, down, down you drown

Waking in the morning
To another dreaded day
Going through the hustle
Just to keep the pain at bay

Escaping is what you want
You numb yourself just to survive
Hating the world when you're sober
Hate yourself for getting high

Oh yeah-This hollowed life of lies

Going through the rituals
Crushing up your dreams
Drawing back within yourself
That icy devil makes you scream

The storm rages deep inside
Harboring all your guilt and shame
Fighting a losing battle 
You think it's too late to change

You hate the world when you're sober
Hate yourself for getting high
Numbing as a way of living
Living your hollowed life of lies

Then one day you see 
Someone who used to use
They were happy
No longer broken and confused

They tell you of a man
Who washed away their sins
They had found peace
Oh yeah- found peace within Him

You were tired of the hatred
You were tired of getting high
You were tired of living
Living your hollowed life of lies

You asked for forgiveness
You were hungry for more
You wanted what they had
They had opened the door

Now you're walking free
Free from the shame and guilt
With Jesus in your heart
You had been rebuilt

No more hating the world
No longer getting high
You laid your pain at His feet
You escaped that hollowed life of lies

Deep-Dark-Hollowed Heart

I stand 
I wait
I worried
for the things that may not happened

I hope
I pray
I cried
longing for a peaceful heart

All I wanted is...
when i close my eyes I won't feel afraid
and when I open my eyes, a smile will appear 
coz today i breathe again

in a deep-dark-hollowed heart
like living as a sinner
like walking around in a forest finding a way out
God, released me from this feeling...

Nobody wants to feel alone
like a stranger in a crowded place
take me to a home where love can hold me
to a nice sleep when the night comes

I am lost so find me
I cry so hug me
I am lonely so love me...
© Mony Reyna  Create an image from this poem.

Hollowed Out But Holding Heavens

Stone set unblemished unworked faces create hardship floors on which to sip out of rock puddles. Such luxury. In a fine art landscape one must always wear clicking heels. And one must always lift ones head and toss one's bowl hairdo around. It gives an embellishment of establishment. Yet whilst closing establishments always arrange the items on the tray to perfect the mass erosion of corrosive killers. It is to be said that dueling in a spa is the undeciphed leak of a giant cat. Fat catacombs playing whilst the sky bird drops upon the earth in destructive violent ease. Smiling. Thumbs up. Goggle eyed. Then carcasses pulled by mules. In skirts. Carry no silver blade. Wear no authentic ancient dress. Don the hats and adornments of the fake. To fix a fax is to fornicate frantically causing fish to float. For danger lies in spewed out materials. Look no further than within for truths said millipede to centipede. They were crossing a heavily used junction. Look there at the fortresses and deem not of importance the wealth of a breed born. Then off. Zoom. They went zoom. Good. Gratefully grabbing garters giving greatness. And a small atomicity agonising. Not good. Not great. So no hahahaha to that fried wok explosion. Of sorts it is a curvaceously built argumentative and aromatic compound in a cutlery drawer sailing. Admirable. No not admirable. Jeer not a rolling pin shaped triangularly. Be not a bend in a lane. Xxxxx insectivorous ideologues. Xxxx bean bomb. Xxxxx destitution demon xxxxx dragline drainage basin *** cosmopolitanism z  z z.


Premium Member Hollowed Heart, Still Beating

                             A hollowed heart, still beating
                     A lightning of misfortune forked into it
                                Puncturing the surface
                        Yet it didn't shatter to smithereens 
                                      Isn't it strange?

                               Could it be made of steel?
                               There's now a gaping hole
                                     In the heart's core
                           Yet it still beats a steady rhythm
                                      How can that be?

                                 Isn't it supposed to cease
                                 All function cold turkey?
                              A hollowed heart, still thriving
                               Slowly healing by the warmth
                           Of sunlight penetrating the aperture

                                   May this resilient heart
                               Never tear or splinter in half
                              May the wound steadily shrink
                                    Eventually sealed shut 
                                       By the love inside


Hollow Poetry Contest/Winner(7th Place)
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen 
Date written and posted: 06/12/2018

Hollowed Canvas

Some say art is a window into our imagination, a port to our soul
A portal that meets the mind and all of our senses
Mixtures of raw colors engaging in love to create 
Names of shades of color one hardly hears of are present 
Still the eye captures the image and shares it with our brain
Least the brain with our spirit and therefore we spit out emotion
Perhaps inspiration too leaves our heart non the less we call it art
What triggers the mind and emotion to such beauty painted on cloth
Frozen feelings with in the frame never again will it be the same urge to create for a different image
Imagism floats from the mind and raw feelings from the spirit
Least is the love we have for one another is it not a commandment to love one another as one loves hisself 
Still the power behind such word, one could say it triggers fear to mention
Is there integrity is loving and not being lived back
Treason the heart betrays your mind
Alas the feelings fade and only opportunity remains that someday hope will find faith and love will come
Until then hollowed we remain a space fear, affection, and greed fills 
Please excuse the blood on my canvas I ran out of crimson red
Pierced my heart and here you are my hollowed canvas 





For Alley Poe

Hollowed Out the Sea

They weep, and they wail
When we hollowed out the sea
Bring me the captain’s log


Premium Member Hollowed Out

Feel hollowed out by
Parasites and bloodsuckers
Once plump, now a prune

Hollowed Soul

Poor unfortunate soul
Now an empty shell
Hollowed eyes 
Void of life.

Your world has crumbled
Your a mess in rags
Can't see straight
Through the fog of despair.

You see no colors
Just black and white
There is no joy
Happiness has fleeted.

Wandering aimlessly
As if caught in a whirlpool
Spiraling down toward the center
Into the abyss of depression.

Your love in ruins
Can't control yourself
Your only choice in mind
Is to give up your life.

You head toward the road
Laying flat on your back
Waiting for death
To run you over.

Life flashes through her eyes
Memories flow like a river
Of a troubled, demented woman
Who realized too late
She could of changed fate.
© Megan Ryan  Create an image from this poem.

Hollowed

The words flow in
They force all thought out
Then im left as hull
Hollow from the inside out

Nothing inside 
except for broken dreams
Being crushed under the tide
were life is less than it seems

The point is gone
Reason has left
Is this realy pain 
or  is it for the best.

If hope is out there 
I need you quick.
If its not though
the just leave me to be sick.

In the Hollowed Hush of Heaven

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLCHXfkGOIw
In the hollowed hush of heaven the whisper of a soul 
and in the lit up room of stars an angel's karmic face   
Two feathered wings aloft deliverance her goal 
while one is seized on earth, the other portal graced 

An otiose moon assembled a duty of the night 
shadows of the 5th dimension casting in the light 
prying dreams of splendor identity of life 
immortal as the sun her beauty, sharp as knife 

Relinquishing the feel of metal grates and pain 
she soon portends her destiny before she goes insane 
we need to catch that train she whispers in her ear
and suddenly she's up floating without fear 

In the hollowed hush of heaven, an angel talks to God 
while a stretcher is removed, the sky turns white to chalk 
two feathers wings of might she doesn't need a prod 
volte faced attuned and free she flies, to new EPOC.

Hollowed Out

Hollowed out
Beyond belief
To the point of indifference
And if you could
Piece me back together
I might care

Hollowed

I live in New York, and I am a New Yorker, And I am also...a worker. I close the door to my house, and begin walking, I turn on my cellphone, and start talking. I look to my left and look to my right, Always trying to keep those cars in sight. I come to the first light, and I cross the street As rats scurry below my feet. I kick at them, and try to get them off my shoes. But they don't even have a clue, And that's when I knew...I look up and see A car coming straight at me.I guess I am lucky, I didn't feel him even pass me. I start walking again And keep on chatting. But cant hear my friend Yacking. And then all of these people, rushed past me? I turn around to see where their all going. Oh the h*** with that, I'll just go back. And there I was, Jack! I have all these things start going off in my head. Oh my God, Am I dead? 

Premium Member OYSTER

Stoic she sits
        As an oyster lacking a grain of sand
        No Pearl of Great Price or wisdom to share.

Stoic she sits
        A smile adorns her face while we hold hands,
        Bereft of thought and without words to spare.

Stoic she sits
        Cloudy sapphire eyes show nary a care.
        Oblivion’s glide left her a blank stare.

Stoic she sits
        Time’s wrinkles scribe not the soft silken face
        Of the hollowed woman who remains there.
Stoic I sit

My Hollowed Remains

My shattered core in pieces on the floor,
As a rug, tattered and torn.

Please close the door, the spectacle is not yours.
The decay of an eaten apple core.
Still... You search for more.

The vultures have already came,
Leaving only putrid stains...
And a few hollowed bones that
might make a nice picture frame...

Hollowed

I lie crumpled at the foot of my own bed --
there are moments when I am empty,
rushing water pouring over smooth, flat stones.
I stare vacantly at the slow torrent of sky
and at the unchanging rooms of my life.
I commiserate with the moaning of the wind
and the battering of the tall grass of the plains.
© Sam Mayhue  Create an image from this poem.

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