Sienna Luna
Sienna Luna
10 hours ago

Before the year ends

there is so much left to

accomplish. Little grains

of salt tossed from shore to shore

Rogue One is my savior

Jin and Cassian are my guides

a bonding brotherhood

a bonding friendship

a budding romance

but ended as the imperial army

blew them to smithereens.

What is to become of the

rebel forces? They end up winning

but it's a long, hard struggle.

The Force is with me.

I am the Force.

I know this now.

All this power like

the Death Star

channeling green toxic energy

destroying all

that is innocent and good.

Before the year ends

there is an opening

not unlike the blue power shields

that the rebels destroyed.

Fear is my shield

but I have the Force within

and all it takes is some hope

that this next coming year

will be a new bright beginning

full of love and caring

bringing peace and relief and satisfaction and release

to my Brain and my Heart.

Sienna Luna
Sienna Luna
12 hours ago

Back to rainy poetry on a morning full of possibility.
Back to layers and winter breathing down my neck.
Back to shivers and cold feet in blue flip flops.
Back to the smell of fresh dew on wet grass, gleaming.
Back to scribbling down my feeling. Back to excited heart palpitations.
Back to new romantic relations.
Back to the beginning or maybe it's the end of summer officially past fall's complacency.
Back to hope fluttering like tiny fairies lifting off from my chest.
Their little smiles and pointed ears possessed.

Sienna Luna
Sienna Luna
12 hours ago

I feel like someone just squeezed me alive!
The rain is now pelting down by my side.
Somehow I was let go from my job.
It's nothing personal I guess I'm a snob.
I feel as though my life is closing to an end.
There's no future here for me, my friend.
As an adult I pay my dues.
With no money in my account I am barren blues.
I kind of like a boy who I don't know very well.
These feelings inside me are making me swell.
Should I go hide or burry my face in the dirt.
Or is this a sign that when life really hurts
and the grey skies pour down
and the heavy clouds unburden
their sorrow there has to be meaning
in these wet tears to swallow.
It's kind of like a bittersweet revelation.
A complete failure or a filigree contemplation.
Somewhere deep inside, I weep.
In silent pity I lay to sleep.

Sienna Luna
Sienna Luna
12 hours ago

Tender as a fallen leaf floating to the ground. The will of this universe is hidden safe and sound. Floating up in La La Land, a simple phrase is found: Te Amo

If this life wills those words into fruition, and if this body finds not what it has been looking for, but what it needs, well, wouldn't that be worth the struggle?

Can what was once a miserable world of rejection and sadness, disappointments full of callous, negative thoughts and hurtful endings, turn into something fresh and new?

Tender as the heart will let it hear my sighs, these soft moans of personal pleasure are emulating from my brain circuitry, wiring them unknown to me.

Will love try me on for size?

As long as the leaves grow brittle so when they're stepped on they create a sound so loud it cracks and all that's left is a gentle inside wash of feelings

tickling my sensors

speaking to me from the other side.

Calling my name softly

letting go of my pride…

#love   #feelings   #heart   #nature   #rebirth  

Faded stains of spilled bourbon
dot the weathered nightstand’s surface
like stars speckle a clear midnight sky
Each commemorates a prop of courage
swigged to help forge another day

Bras, slips, heels and flats
pepper the soiled carpet
reflections of the many
nightly transgressions now
impediments which fleck her soul

Her frontal lobe
harbors distortions
from her past
forgiven by those who know her
forgotten by others

Rain pelts her window
rat-tat, rat-tats against the panes
compulsively splatters the door
flings open her mind
to let today’s downpour
splash away
any trace of her anguish

Blocked in inspiration I am editing previous posts here.  This work was originally called Drops of Compulsion and listed here in 2015.

To search the winter lean and long,
for early signs of coming spring,
on snow sprayed fields now all aglow,
  on every little whispered wing,

Tis hardest in this icy air,
alone with frozen thought,
to seek the thaw you asked of me,
when love was freely taught,

In buds of red I wish to hold,
and not my stubborn,
warming glow,
your spring awaits with daffodil,
beneath the wet and melted snow,

I await you dear with frozen breath
eternally I wait for thee
tis I that seek your stubborn glow
your warmth is what will set me free

I take your mind
to yesteryear
when spring came easy then
to take us back to times we know
to love your way
back home again

In simple terms a simple love
I beckon from my frozen hill
to bring you back here in the spring
and not
against your needed will

I wait for you
I wait for thee
my Sunny Springtime Daffodil

Hi poets! This is a wonderful opportunity at a collaboration with someone who I respect greatly wonderful poet friend David Hewitt! ❤ I asked and he started,
this is about many things- the willingness to change, the acceptance of waiting, and what it might bring come spring, waiting for love and longing and light, and being patient in the wait...rebirth & a new hopeful sunny year. This poem is everything.. it's hard to explain it made me cry literally. I guess I contacted David for a very good reason! Part of it is this place and the beauty from wherever he comes from and I really truly appreciate David allowing me to have almost creative license with it finishing even though he heard it from the inception. Anyway I hope you are all blessed with beautiful things coming this time in Spring and it brings you close back to home again. I hope you have a wonderful year my poet friends. And I hope you love it as much as we do - many many thanks! ❤❤❤ Cherie and David!
#love   #friends   #poetry   #life   #beautiful   #spring   #rebirth  

Even as the snow
Falls white blossoms continue
to bloom on and on.

A haiku to remember the bittersweet year that 2016 has been and to celebrate 2017.
#life   #haiku   #death   #flowers   #winter   #ending   #snow   #rebirth   #beginning   #2016  

I'm waiting for the sun to rise;
going to cut these worldly ties.
Remembering summer reveries,
The autumn chill, the falling leaves.

Look at how we both have grown;
change for all the time we've blown.
Remembering the winters snow,
the stars above, the ground below.

Lets atone for throwing stones;
we can mend the broken bones.
Remembering that spring revives;
brings new light to cloudy skies.

I want to wish all my friends, followers and fellow poets a happy new years. May the light guide you on whatever path you choose this new year. Thank you so much for all the love and support! Be safe, and awake to a beautiful tomorrow. :)

The Mysidian Bard
John Michael Biely
John Michael Biely
Dec 31, 2016

I know you
burning me
like a black river
from the eyes of time.

Your foggy vision,
a monk with no feet.
I can feel you
but I cannot find.

So sit there then,
sit there and pray.
It's all you have left,
It's all you ever were.

Where do you
want me to be?
What can I give you
that you won't bleed all over?

Only the truth.
Only the past.

My secrets are mine.

Only the wind and the wheel
will ever show you
but you are too busy looking for tomorrow to feel today.
To much vision to see what's now.

I have not moved past you
rather, I have shed you.
Like beer from a bottle.
Making someone happy

at least for now.

#growth   #rebirth   #arcane  
Walter W Hoelbling
Walter W Hoelbling
Dec 22, 2016

the myths of birth and rebirth
are as old as humankind

scratched onto cave walls,
tablets of stone or clay,
scrolls of papyrus or  parchment,
for hundreds of years on paper,
and nowadays typed onto backlit screens
   that are recycled faster
   than old hieroglyphs were understood

in our time
when refugees are tens of millions
on our globe

let us remember that these myths
have celebrated for millenia
    not battles, war, or death
but the survival of the human race    
the joy we feel when new life has arrived
   often against all odds
the hope that emanates from godesses
    or mother saints of yore
    who symbolize fertility,
    have brought forth saviors and new tribes

these are what has propelled us to our current state

and we do well to not forget that our fate
does not depend on people slain
but on how we can save the joy of life
and celebrate all humankind again

Trying hard to write a verse of joyful optimism in dire times.... Wishing y'all on hellopoetry a Merry Christmas and a Better New Year!
#war   #dead   #joy   #christmas   #rebirth   #saints   #myths   #fertility   #godesses  
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment