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Ashwin Kumar Dec 2023
As 2023 cometh to an end
Thankful am I, to have many a friend
Who have been there for me
Through an emotional rollercoaster of a year
Some of whom, are as dear
As a family member or a cousin
And who ensure that I don't sin!

Truly, this has been a tornado of a year
Many occasions there have been
When I have shed many a tear
Sometimes, the grass has been green
Other times, a mess of overgrown weeds
However, planted have been the seeds
For a new beginning
Though a lot of work is still pending!!

As the countdown for 2024 begins
Hoping am I, for a lot of things
To be cleared, are my dues
To be overcome, are my work blues
To be conquered, are my fears
With the help of my dears
To be fought, are my insecurities
To be handled, all are uncertainties
To be managed, is stress
To be bought, is a new dress
To be controlled, is my intake of sugar
Even if my problems get bigger and bigger
To be developed, is confidence
To be taken, are many a chance
To be less dependent on, are people
Else, get caught I might, in a tangle
And finally, must I be happy as I am
Including not giving a ****
About what the society may or may not think
While I enjoy a drink!

Just like every other year
To 2024, do I look forward
Hopefully, it may bring a reward
For all my sincere efforts
Even if I haven't followed all the dos and don'ts
You may see a new Ashwin
More capable of handling pain
I may even find love
Even if it doesn't seem possible right now
Finally learn, may I, how to say 'No'
Though the process may be slow
However, fear I need not
If I follow Jesus' teachings a lot
Because, he is the most important person
In my entire life
And will always save me when there is strife
To be learned from him, are many a lesson

Finally, to 2023, is it time to say goodbye
And leave all my anxieties high and dry
Dear 2024, do I welcome thee
With arms wide open
Let this be the beginning
Of a new innings
May we all smile more often
Even when not required
May all our pain be buried
And finally, may we all love each other
Including becoming friends across borders
Wish you all a very Happy New Year in advance!
Let us begin the dance!!
Amen!! Hallelujah!!
Poem on moving on from 2023 to 2024
Mors Spiritualis

Spiritual *******
who is to blame
The prophets the poets
lascivious shame

With prurient verses
stark naked their prose
Defaming what’s ******
their lust to impose

And when they have finished
exposing their ruse
They choke on its meaning
and die self-abused

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)



Divinity’s Pew

The truth stands in contrast
to only itself
Once mentioned eternal
when thought and then felt
It lives in the ether
past fortune or fame
Conscripted by conscience
no praise and no blame
The truth beyond reason
beyond lies or consent
The lucky among us
to follow its scent
Its trail leads to faith
divinity’s pew
Transforming the moment
— you first say I do

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)



Freezing The Moment

Are you the
lead actor
within your own myth

The script
ever changing
the past in its crypt

Can you freeze
the moment
with only one word

The Angel’s
applauding
— the devil unheard

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)



Salt Lick

Politicians
endow a sword
to the few
— to command the many

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)


Modern Education

Learning more
about less and less
Feeling torn
in great duress
Faith attacked
we hide from myths
Real love scorned
— ourselves we kiss

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)


Marx In Hell

Political salvation
the god of failure
Beatifying the collective
— on the devil’s throne

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)


Gnostic Dreams

The brighter the glare
we discover around us
The darker the light
stays hidden within
Secular salvation
a digital failure
God’s imminent nature
— indistinguishable from ours

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)


‘Sage To The Court Jester …’

God’s truth — Man’s truth
bridging the difference
trust in the Muse

(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Conation

Have you tilted the axis
on a new tomorrow
Have you changed with intention
— the direction of time

(The New Room: February, 2024)



Round Peg — Square Holes

The poetry of mathematics
— oxymoronic at best

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)





Robert The Bruce

War is won
before the first battle fought
Willful intention
the enemy caught

Decision a crossbow
empowered by choice
The spirit retracting
— a conquering voice

(Stonehenge: March, 1987)


Apate

Captive of emotion
— prisoner of deceit

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)


Crossing Over

Attending his own funeral
no tears were exchanged
No grieving or mourning
— but memory remained

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

In Memoriam

People won’t remember you
because of your money
The human spirit bereft
by your dollars in vain
History won’t revere you
because of your tokens
Your legacy built upon
— prescience ordained

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Blood Trail

Don’t get ****** into choosing
both sides are bad
The Left or the Right
their massages sad

The Right tries to promise
what Leftist’s sublate
Two sides to a trap
— where lies are the bait

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)


“What Simple Folk Do …”

Only inside ordinary things
is the extraordinary released
Baptized new day after day
eternity unleashed

Only by embracing what’s common amongst us
as Arthur knew so well
Can we move on to where it starts
beyond heaven — beyond hell

(Memories Of Camelot: February, 2024)


Making Our Bed

The silence of death
lives in the future
Sleeping with memories
— of yesterday’s past

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Jon York Jan 1
What  new  influences
and opportunities will
be headed your way in
2024 ?

In  2024  set  aside  all
expectations about what
the past implies and what
the future may bring .

Instead cultivate a desire
to recognize and respond
to the raw truth of each
moment  of  every  day
in 2024.
                                                                ­                                Jon York    2024
From The Coal Mine …

Liars …
early prophets
of impending doom

(The New Room: February, 2024)


The Moment Shared

We often forget
wrapped up
in our own drama
— that everyone feels the same

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Circle Game

The purpose of war
is peace
The guarantor of peace
— is war

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Crucibles

Moss
hides the message
Whose altar
ascends
In joy’s
adulation
The pilgrimage
— ends

(1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2024)



I Bequeath Thee …

Birthing a memory
o’er future and past
To carry my words
inside others to last

Birthing a memory
o’er time and space
To those still unborn
— my welcoming grace

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Four Steps

Incinerate
all kindling that burns
Articulate
the knowledge that yearns
Reciprocate
before it’s your turn
Elucidate
— each lesson hard earned

(The New Room: February, 2024)


True Fortune

Good health is loaned
— but never owned

(Deamsleep: February, 2024)
Henry Akeru Jan 1
Oh, 2023, a fleeting year in time,
Now replaced by 2024's chime.
With the turning clock, a new chapter unfolds,
A tale untold, in the book of life it molds.

The echoes of yesterday softly fade,
As the dawn of a fresh era is laid.
In the canvas of time, strokes anew,
Patterns of moments, both old and true.

Resolutions and hopes, like stars align,
In the vast cosmos of possibilities entwined.
Oh, 2024, with your untrodden ways,
What secrets lie beneath your cosmic haze?

New beginnings sprout like spring's first bloom,
In the garden of fate, where destinies loom.
A chant of moments, a rhythm profound,
As the hands of time continue to astound.

Let's cherish memories of the past,
Yet embrace the future, vast and vast.
For in this transition, a chance to explore,
The untamed wonders of 2024.
Earth has completed one full spin around the Orbits of the Sun.
Answering The Past

I tell you what
you ask me why
Inside this ring
of time disguised
Two hundred reasons
passing go
Retracing steps
— of long ago

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)



Forever Now

Make your bed with today
no one’s promised tomorrow
The present is visceral
its moment at hand
Repeating itself
in joy and in sorrow
The instant eternal
— forever Divine

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)



Lost To Oneself

What do the years mean
when they come to an end
Their number a folly
if hearts cannot mend
A month or a decade
results but the same
‘With feeling abandoned
— a life spent in vain

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)



The Moment Blessed

The future
can be avoided
the present cannot

The past but
a door prize
to what you have not

To live in
the moment’s  
eternal refrain

A blessing
self given
— again and again

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)



Calling Us Home

Drawn into the light
arms open wide
to hear
that song again

Which ushered
us here
replaying clear
— by Angels from within

(1st Book  Of Prayers: March, 2024)



A Choice

The grey winter
of dismal intention
recurs with a vengeance
— until you say NO

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)
Dead Calm

Without friction
there is no motion
Without motion
— creation stops

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


Abeyance

My pen is searching
for its guitar case
a place to sleep
when the writing’s done

To rest in the dark  
between flowing moments
of what might be coming
— and old verses sung

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


Nowhere To Hide

The haunting of our memories
never to escape
No continent wide nor ocean deep
— will shield us from their ****

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


Falling Into Silence

For years
I’ve had an old man’s body
Today
an old man’s mind

The past
a memory ever haunting
Tomorrow looming
— in decline

(Listening To Paul Simon: May, 2024)


Shadow Dancing

Making everyday life poetic
doggedness abounds
Separating wheat from chaff
— harder than it sounds

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


Again New Orleans

Waking up from a dream
inside another dream
inside another dream
inside another …

(Listening to Wynton Marsalis: May, 2024)
preservationman Dec 2023
Front and Center
2023 a year of doubt
Plenty of corruption bout
Through situations and circumstances
No way out
Protestors chanting in shouts
Unrest and no peace
No assurance in the least
Lives loss for unseen reasons
The world seemed like it was unglued
2023 felt more like a conclude
Justice with questionable values
Washington, DC Political voices stand, but who was listening?
Battles after battles, but still no cease
The Media telling nothing but daily negative
It was totally an objective.

2023 offered plenty of uncertainty
So what do you expect from 2024
No straight answer
It is a wait and see approach
I would love to see World Peace, Togetherness and Total Unity
End of Violence
Respect and eliminated hatred
Race not being a factor
A total subtractor
2024 I hope will be different from 2023
Negativity out and Prosperity in
A world of tranquil and smiles
Where overcoming struggles while
Upbeat
2024 that would be neat
We can only hope with expect
That would be a blessing having that effect
2023 we say goodbye
It wasn’t an easy try
2024, please enlighten us
Away with fuss and cuss
2024, please do your best
Accepting nothing for less
More is better
2024, we await.
~
July 2023
HP Poet: N (Neville Pettitt)
Country: UK


Question 1: Welcome to the HP Spotlight, Neville. Please tell us about your background?

N: "Although I currently post my little scribbles here under the initial N, I once used to sign myself off with my full first name which is Neville and in fact, I may well do so again .. For anyone interested, my full pen name is Neville Pettitt and it is only after much deliberation that have I decided to reveal it here today .. My birth name is different .. The reason for my caution is entirely due to my line of work .. I am employed as a clinical specialist in adult psychiatry, with special interests in substance misuse, personality disorder and clinical risk management .. Consequently, from time to time I may be called upon by the Coroner, local Mental Health Trusts, or very occasionally the police dept, to conduct in depth investigations into serious adverse events for example, murders and or suicides .. I hope the reason for my transparency becomes clearer as you read on (that is, assuming anyone actually does read on) .. I studied at both Middlesex & Hertfordshire universities and have occasionally served as a volunteer in psychiatric facilities overseas .. The longest was a few years ago at Tanka Tanka Hospital in West Africa the Gambia and Senegal to be precise where I managed to last just under six months .. I am as old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth, I was born and currently live in a beautiful part of England by the sea in the county of Somerset and in an old converted Banked Barn that dates back to 1547 .. I know I am very lucky .. I have two grown children .. My daughter heads up the hepatology department at a local hospital and my son has his own business .. My wife was previously a partner at a General Practice .. In 1995 I registered as a Kongo Zen Buddhist and am also a black belt student of Shorinji Kempo which I also used to teach .. "


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

N: "I guess I have been writing poetry for the best part of my life to date, certainly from around ten or eleven and I have been posting here at ‘Hello Poetry’ for around three years or thereabouts .. "


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

N: "When asked what inspires me, I often find myself lost for words because there are so many things, I love nature, people generally, travelling, my work occasionally and those I encounter during the course of just being .. There’s probably not a lot that I have not been inspired to write about at some time or other .. Relationships of course do tend to feature a lot, as do both losses and gains of various kinds .. My lovely parents, now both deceased were also a great source of inspiration too .. I would be lieing if I denied getting pleasure from writing .. I get a great deal of pleasure from it .. and I enjoy trying to give others pleasure too .. Sometimes my muse deserts me for a while and I get those dreaded blank page days but always carry a pen and notepad around just in case something tickles my fancy or I get one of those light bulb moments .. "


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

N: "As already mentioned, poetry in many of its various forms has been a major part of my life, if not a friend and comfort for almost as long as I can remember .. I also use it as a means of expressing my self and communicating with others .. However, in the last five or six years, I have been publishing anthologies in order to raise money for each of my chosen charities .. Mental Health of course features, but also for Breast cancer since my wife had this .. More recently however, Brain Tumour research has been included following the death of my sister in law and my little niece developing a similar brain tumour too at age four years .. I currently have eight books/anthologies of poetry in print which are available almost anywhere on the planet from Amazon .. and these are listed in chronological order below a ninth is due out in early 2024 and called A Handful of Ghosts and a Woman in Blue .. a bit of a mouthful I know, but it features an old image of my wife on the cover ..

Turquoise & Other Shades of Blue

Somewhere Behind These Eyes

Victims of Indifference

Beautiful Bruises

The Logic of Fools

Cotton Girls & Paper Chains

Chasing Light

Slaves of Eros"



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

N: "My favourite poets are Leonard Cohen whom I kind of grew up with and who incidentally once wrote to me twice in fact .. or to be absolutely correct, the first time, he answered one of my letters to him .. I am also a fan of the late great Sylvia Plath, Charles Bukowski and oh’ so many others both classical and more modern .. "


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

N: "Other interests include travelling in particular foreign travel, dining in and eating out, gardening painting and drawing when I have time .. (hardly ever these days) I still practice zazen as per Kongo zen and I enjoy reading and listening to music .. "


Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for taking part in this series, my friend! You have truly enlightened us about yourself.”

N: "Finally, I would just like to say what a real and great honour and a privilege it was to be asked to post a little about myself here on this mighty fine poetry site and to express my very sincere thanks to anyone that follows me or reads just one of my works .. Many thanks to one and all .. Peace, Love & All Good Things, Neville"




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed Neville's story. For certain I have. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)

We will post Spotlight #6 in August!
~
N: "Having been asked to list a few of my own favourite poems has proved impossible .. not because there are so many, but because, I truly feel that my next one will be it .. however, I do sincerely hope that others here who are kind enough to visit any of my scribbles will each have their own .."

Carlo C. Gomez: "I highly recommend Neville's book 'Turquoise and Other Shades of Blue.'  It's an anthology of 200 journeys. Open and direct, Neville allows us to be privy to his disquieting thoughts about life, love, loss, ***, curiosities, and travails; whether they be his successes or failures. The poem  ‘War Is Not for Lovers’ is an essential read."

War Is Not For Lovers:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3333072/war-is-not-for-lovers/

Link to book:
https://www.amazon.com/Turquoise-Other-Shades-Neville-Pettitt/dp/1699210268/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3MYUAAWTXINAK&keywords=neville+pettitt&qid=1688237395&sprefix=neville+pettitt%2Caps%2C146&sr=8-2
Thomas Nov 2016
Age 19- 2018 Graduation from High school

Age 25- 2024 Graduation for physiology

Age 25- 2024 Get a job in physiology, maybe start dating

Age 27- 2026 Maybe I’ll get married

Age 28- 2027 Maybe we will have a child

Age 29- 2028 Maybe we will buy a house with a really heavy mortgage

Age 49- 2048 Maybe our kid would move out

Age 51- 2050 Maybe we will buy a new house

Age 69- 2068 Maybe finally we will be able pay off the mortgage

Age 72- 2071 Maybe I could finally retire

Age 83- 2082 Maybe I will look back and wonder if I am satisfied with what I have done.
It's a poem
Jim Marchel Mar 8
On an autumn walk at the ides of day
I saw birds of a feather fly together away.
As they flew over flames
In an ides-of-day way
They got caught in the weather
And so forever became
The tall twisted tale
That we hear of so much:
Two birds with one hailstone,
Death from maelstrom above.
Birds of a feather, flock together.
Jeremy Betts Feb 18
Suicide?
Hold on, I'm sorry,
Are you referring to the barbaric act of hands-free ****** by an inhouse intruder implementing a vicious, self-righteous onslaught
No?
Oh...
Cause that's what I got
That's not what you were taught?
You didn't know each and every thought could be on loop and fraught with a dangerous taunt
No one told you you'd also most likely be the only one within earshot?
It's just thought after thought after thought after thought
And it's nonstop like the whistle of an ignored teapot that's gotten too hot
I ask myself, "is there such a thing as an inner dialogue clot?"
Rhetorical of course, knowing full well that there's not
It'd be pretty helpful though would it not?
A majority of this agony doesn't even seem to originate from an internal spot
But it's held against me that they recklessly destroy all I've fought for as well as rewriting the plot
Turning me into my own distraught subplot
Filming redesignated to the back lot of Salem's Lot
Making sure to make it known I'll only have this one shot
I swear y'all think I was told to bring what I'm gonna need and this is what I brought
So I fillet both wrists and expose the rot
Hoping to relay visually what verbally I cannot
Live stream it for a live audience or not
Copious shallow minds will still produce the same shallow thought
"You either want to be here or not"
Not knowing it has so little to do with want
"You ought to change the way you think"
Oh right, you're right, I must have forgot
OOOOOR
or
Is it that I've been convinced I can not?
Yeah...yeah, that's the caveat
I'd give everything to hit the reset like a robot
But the treason contains some carefully wrought deception that's sent in like S.W.A.T.
Keep that standard victim blaming line you walk taut
It's easier to walk that, is it not?
That's what I thought
Everyone knows the Rorschach test is just an inkblot
I watch in disbelief as my well-being resorts back to just another afterthought
The outlier is no one witnesses the slipping of the knot
There'll be no extension of a helping hand intervention to salvage this broken man by trying to help him reconnect a dot
Because I've lost connection with every dot
A reality checked on the spot
They continue debating amongst each other if it'd be easier to boycott
I bought in, hook, line and sinker,
I should have seen the bait and switch comin' do to all the times prior
THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS SOUGHT!
But here I am,
I guess it's my turn to like it or not

©2024
Poison Ivy

Academia …
cesspool
of deception
harbinger
— of lies

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


Occam’s Edge

Plurality
without necessity
— pandering time

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)


The Right Fork

Newness …
birth mother
to anticipation

(From ‘Calling Me Home:’ May, 2024)
I dream of you /
As I slumber /
Knowing that sequestration /
Is not the eternal fate of this starry-eyed vagrant. /

I believe, in the power of love, /
I know that faith is my redeemer; /
Therefore, I beseech the aethers, /
That you will one day be by my side. /

In the light of love, we are made intemerate, /
We are, like a baptistery, washed clean, /
Anointed in this hallowed elixir /
I do not relinquish my hope. /

(—Se’ lah)
White Shadow Dec 2023
In the glow of midnight's chime,
2024 dawns, a rhythm divine.
Stars whisper secrets in the sky,
A canvas of dreams, soaring high.

Resolutions dance in hopeful eyes,
Like fireworks that light the skies.
A tapestry woven, threads of change,
New beginnings, a wide-open range.

Clocks reset, a chance reborn,
Embrace the dawn, a brand new morn.
Hopes sparkle like the year's first dew,
A symphony of possibilities anew.

Reflect on lessons, bid farewell,
To yesteryears, where stories dwell.
Tomorrow's pages yet unwritten,
In the book of time, we are smitten.

Let laughter echo, let joy persist,
As the calendar turns, a fresh twist.
Carve your path in this unknown,
A journey where seeds of dreams are sown.

So, raise a toast to the unseen,
To moments yet to be, serene.
In the melody of the turning year,
May your heart find its cheer.
Francie Lynch Jul 2021
I look forward to the re-enactments of historic moments in the pageant of The United States of America. [sic]

Gettysburg, Crossing the Delaware, The Moon Landing, Paul Revere's Ride, The March on Washington, The Storming of the Capital, The Clearing of Lafayette Plaza, The George Floyd ******, The Separation of Families, The Arizona Re-count, The Plot to Assassinate Democratic Governors, The Imprisonment of: Jared, Donny, Eric, Ivanka, Don, Carlson, Greene, Gaetz, Guilianni, Hannity, Conway, McVeigh, Barr [sic] (just to mention a few of the Founding ****-Ups.), the death of 650,000 people (the vast majority being innocent), The Pandemic of the Unvaxxed [sic]

After July 4, 2024, History may never be the same. See it now!
One More Day

Always amazing
how well this life
goes right on without us
New images tread
where shadows have fled
old memories in the dust
Nothing left behind
but words to remind
we chased the Tiger sure
Out of the jungle
into the light
—hoping for one day more

(The New Room: February, 2024)



A Finer Point

Simplify
and clear

Simplify
and clear

Not many
years left

— simplify and clear

(The County Line: February, 2024)



Trapline

Could — Would — Should
poetry’s triumvirate oxymoron

(The New Room: February, 2024)



Goodbye

Walking the wasteland
tracking the miles
rumpled old notebook
pain has compiled

Closer to yesterday
lost to today
Voices of promises
I shouldn’t have made

Trouble ahead
troubles behind
Providence follows
in only my mind

My pen almost empty
eyes nearly shut
One word to write only
— midnight has struck

(Villanova University: February, 2024)



Free Given

It matters least
that when I die
What strangers say
what ladies cry

It matters more
the ink run out
My words free given
— whose passion shouts

(Villanova University: February, 2024)
(alternately titled  GENESIS RESPLENDENT)

No matter the calendrical/official onset of vernal equinox takes places Tuesday, Mar 19, 2024 and transpires until Thursday, Jun 20, 2024, an intimation sensed (predicated on above average temperatures for February 21st, 2024) that season of blooming plants will override any assertion of Old Man Winter.

The ideal, general, ethereal ability of corporeal (once arboreal) beings to adduce, contemplate and exhaust gray inner knobby matter oft times finds this clothed apish chap entertaining gamesome insight. How did this, that or another thought spring forth per mine consciousness? This conjecture might be a shrunken modus operandi how life began, which query mankind scrunched brow throughout **** Sapiens history did contemplate. Origin of life ascribed to the big bang, but then the question begged what preceded that cosmic event, which question came crashing into inquisitive mind of yours truly (me) after reading  a book titled Angels and Demons by Dan Brown; He also wrote the Da Vinci Code, and The Lost Symbol among other book titles.

This veritable stranger sends
what he hopes you consider to be
a most pleasant unexpected note
to thee unknown reader
allowing further discourse
(communication) a boot...
footwear ourselves, and
maybe fledgling acquaintanceship
will positively resonate akin to a magic flute,
whereby digital life jackets
donned in virtual ******* up petsmart boat
perhaps if weather inclement,

an additional slick trojan raincoat
doned to help stay dry
until destination reached
perhaps landing upon a north Carolina island
resembling this hill Billy goat
(christened Beverly),
whence springs germ of sum re: idea
takes root exhibiting
potential valance lives strong
when juiced sta stp away
from ma cheaply tricked
supertramp violating
tender tinder and tumblr
ova vulnerable shoot.

To search for source that gives rise
enabling **** sapiens to think
this ace of spades heart felt,
(albeit diamond in the rough poet)
digs shallow sometimes
force fool lee with light club
to emulate spelunker easing
into ***** of Gaia,
or shine laser focus into chasm
teetering on the brink
hunting down gamesome

elusive dodging idea sunkist,
dogged catlike whimsy
doth elusively, and we silly out pace
yet hi yam ready with
whorled wide net to capture alive
agile rat scorpion fink unseen
quiet as mouse notion
gives this hardy laurel
a divine run for his money
quite a chase - bank king analogously
viz monkey and weasel

scurrying thru microcosmic burrow
of cerebral size manhattan
skyscrapers at a blink quarry
arising whim of mine
vanishes without a trace quick
as mental cogs & wheels
generated riveting link,
perch ants connected
to previous pondering
within cranial place, or appear
as some random
non-sequitur conscious kink

distracting ability to latch onto
awesome fleeting mind space
inducing minor frustration at lack of ability
dag nabbit (albeit painlessly) steely zinc
shimmering insight cognizant
ability likened to ode Grecian urn vase frieze
depicting close captcha
thought process cold playing life
spans shorter than a wink
via third eye of providence
of this comfortably numb,

yellow brick walled
beatle browed face,
whereat he espies verdant
pastoral themes that billow and flow
across terra firma hallowed ground
sanctimonious from immaculate
mother Earth conception
synchronized in a symphony with terrestrial
fauna and flora which life forms abound
via natural laboratory qua nature,
especially at seasonal dawn of spring tide
where multitudinous existence can be found

carving out a figurative zoological niche
in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds galore
idyllic melodic musical sounds
artist palette of rainbow blended sights,
which twin manifestations
of restorative and natural calm
assuage auditory and visual
sense and sensibility pleasures respectively
serve as psychic balm against global threat
of life, liberty and happiness triage psalm
rampant in the form

of diabolical deliberate deeds
bred in the soil of deep rooted hatred
kudzu resistance asphyxiates human camaraderie
democratic state attacked with no qualm
malicious and terroristic plot methodical map
blueprint leaves catastrophic trail of red
dire dystopian prognostications
constitute doomsday scenario
no rocket surgeon
nor brain scientist mentality requisite
grave misfortune writ large for all life!
Where Shelter May 19
about
a year ago the doctors ordered me to return,
put down the tablet, cease driving, stay seated,
you a skinny hair from dying, the drop dead
unkindly kind, come back to the city, there’s
an operating table Resy~reserved just for you,
the menu we will decide, two or three courses,
but for
the summering on your sheltering isle, where the
lapping waves sounds of the sound, the greenery
calming befuddles your senses is ended, the congress
of animals too  have ordered your dispatch back to
the hubbub of pizza parlors, nail salons & bodegas,
and
we will slice and dice, drawn up plans to redirect
the arteries and veins that you’ve spent good money,
lazy years clogging & *******, sending you back after
you’re  in fighting trim, and and recommence dialogus
with
the sun, sky, animals, the water and the waves, and
write of peace of mind, knowing that your body, too,
is
at peace, but not at rest, and let the writing begin
again, with a refreshed perspective, and re-greet
old friends, Hafiz and Whitman, who were left
behind in a hasty departure, your retreat is ended
and now, a new re-treating of the soul, to match a
newly refreshed body


postscript:
where is shelter? why, within and without…both needed,
in happy juxtaposition

but to those who a. companied me on this journey, I give my “undying”love thanks and to all a good night and a god bless…
Remember your true calling /
As the susurrant breeze wafts your epidermis /
And the platinum moon glistens /
Atop the clouded expanse of The Cimmerian Skies. /

Know The Transcendental One walks with you /
Forces unseen fight for thee, /
You are enclaved within the omnipresent mist, /
Of Jehovah God, The Most High. /

"But you are 'a chosen race, a royal priesthood, /
A holy nation, a people for special possession, /
That you should declare abroad the excellencies of the One who called you /
Out of darkness into his wonderful light.'" —1st Peter 2: 9 (NWTSE) /

Equip yourselves for your pilgrimage /
Doven divine Aether, /
For strength, wisdom, justice, love, /
Courage, beauty, & indefatigability. /

Your journey is yours & yours alone, /
Walk through the rain unafraid, /
Believe in The Light when Stygian Shadows fall, /
Cleave to The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love as you effloresce in The Light of The Sun. /

Your testimony is power, /
Your story is a shockwave pulsar through The Ages; /
Therefore, use your promenade down the experiential cascade /
To prepare your souls for eternity. /

(—Se' lah)
james nordlund Jun 2020
All saw united **** of assassin's Gov't's premeditated taking
a knee for 9 minutes on George Floyd's neck, the **** cop
calmly looking into the camera, an assassination for many
reasons, who's seeing past the 'show', following the $?

Ebony, ivory supremacies repeating their victory of 2016's
(Only) Black Lives Matters participation in the Int'l criminal
conspiracy's installing **** into the Black House, etc.,
determining their dividing the nation, in perfect harmony.

Like the bi-headed, Utin and Utin's ****, global axi of
supposed power has re-established, East, West, you're
either totalitarian or not-see, and if not you're murdered
by both, now either Black or white supremacist, or die.

For 15 years ebony has dictated Caucasians call themselves
"white", "be proud of being white", make believe they have
"white privilege", to the benefit of division, ivory, when
there's no "whites", and almost no non-repubs thought it.

That while the reality is their class war against the lower-
middle-class to poor, the boot on our neck, by the police/
military/intelligence complexes, is all 23 flavors of the
baskin + robbins of supremacies, usa, the global oligarchy.

Criminal insanity, that illegally installed the Int'l crime
family **** into the Blackhouse: repubs, conservatives, global
hackers, wicked leaks, J. Assange, usa intelligence/military/
police/prison industrial complexes, J. Comey, R. Barr, C. + K.

West, J. Stein, 13 % of Bernie or Bust 'Bots voting **** and
another % that stopped the youth vote from getting behind a
"not perfect" Hillary, "boat loads" of organized crime $ from
Russia, Ukraine, white supremacy, sinos, linos, ginos, ainos,

dinos, Moore for hawking 'trumpland' entitled book for months
before the election while projecting **** "would win", a % of
the elite of the black supremacy, etc., just allowed the not-
sees, totalitarians to destroy, ****** at an increased clip,

now add premeditated pandemic, ebony/ivory dictated duality,
racial environmental justice "only my environment matters"
movement and voila, the end of the climate crisis movement,
total extermination of humanity to it's extinction, in a can.

It's not a coinky-**** that the "knee" was taken upon the
news that "Biden was considering not choosing a woman of the
right color, Black".  For Ebony figures "if they're not get-
ting a Black president now, through a Black VP pick, they

might as well just put up with 4 more years of ****.  Biden,
Sanders, Warren, etc., will have aged out, Booker, Harris,
Patrick, etc., will be sitting pretty for the 'once you go
Black you never go back' prez job.", same as it ever was.  

Even though the 'show' was able to pull a Mattis out of their
hat, supposedly legitimizing not just the military, but the
republican conspiracy, during this 15th anniv. of the 'use'
of Katrina to "clean out the bowl", and "let the river take

what's the river's", exterminate the lower-middle-class to
poor, gentrify, militarize NOLA by purposely not preventing
the failing of the levees by 2005, by Reagan "we got 300
buses but no drivers" Nagin, Gov. Blanco, etc., to the tune

of mass-murdering going on 3000 predominantly lower-middle-
class to poor, mostly people of color, like king george and
his ****, cheney didn't the terrorist attacks of 9-11-01 and
serial murderers masquerading as cops don't daily terrorist

attacks, their one-sided and continual coverage of the
"current controversy", as ebony and the 'Blackish' lead
actor called the premeditated murderer of some women, ******,
kidnapper of 100's more, B. Cosby, was suffering from, is

clear, keeping the faux opening news out.  No ebony racist
comments, like the Houston Police Chief who repeatedly stated
throughout the day that "the looters were white" only, were
even remarked on.  The lock, ebony and ivory, the fix is in,

if it ain't fixed don't break it.  All the smoke and mirrors,
song and dance, show, weapons of mass distraction, to take
the news cycles off the too early "opening of the country",
pandemic, by ebony for ivory, in the world can't change the

facts, even though it's death toll is only 111,000 by their
accounts, actually 122,000, and there's going on 2 million
infected, there will be an extra 100,000 murdered by ****'s
policies and lack thereof in handling his virus circus.

That there's more prisoners, defacto-slave laborers now than
the number of slaves at the height of the slave trade, here,
not spoken about because ebony, ivory are both the corporate
structure, global oligarchy that it enriches, won't change.

See how the assassinations of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor,
George Floyd, have paid ivory by ebony, like they did in 2016
to stop there being a minimum of 16 years straight of 'white'
prezs, Hillary and Tom.  Their deaths and the aftermath being

used now to cover up the premeditated ****** of 10,000's of
Blacks by ****, because ebony + ivory, working together in
perfect harmony to fill every news cycle now and for months,
want 'the economy open', to make them more $ now, instead

of saving all those Black lives who don't actually matter to
them at all, 'cause it's all about the benjamins, instead.  
Biden should pick a progressive woman to cement Bernie
voters, if not, then a liberal one of color, no particular hue.  

'De-funding police dept.s', etc., should wait until after the
election, unless ebony's insisting **** wins to get a Black
prez in 2024, instead.  The determined Winter of our death,
extermination to come, will surpass their class warfare's

liquidation of ases and assets of the masses en masse's
increased rate of blitzkreiging Gaia's kids to their
extinction.  Now it seems too late, their 'use' of pandemic
to subjugate the world to survival instead of alival,

exigency instead of humanity, has closed eyes, minds, pulled
the rug out....  But, "...we(e),..." can't be over-confident,
apathetic, cynical, complacent, nihilistic, pessimistic,
burned-out, for supposed anarchy is the global bi-polar axi

of supposed power's mutual modus operendi, to determine
la machine's chaos, and the division it causes, increases
vacuum-up economics to the global oligarchy, replicating the
'show' that must goes on, including colonialism, hegemony,

patriarchy, imperialism, supremacy, conspiracy, etc..  If you
didn't vote Hillary you voted Utin and his **** be installed
into the Black House.  There's public records of who did and
didn't do what, please stop them from doing it again, or die.

Protect, occupy, GOTV, "you can't dismantle the man's house
with the man's tools", Lordes, notseeism and totalitarianism.  
"The root of all oppression lies in (supposed) science",
Gandhi.  If you're not taking bullets you're making them.  
Viva la vida, solidaridad, la evolucion   :)   reality
The normal they want to return to, northern malaise, euro-centrism and projections of academia, a blood disease, have always flown in the face of necessity, progress and the need for humanity to even be allowed to exist.  Yet, now with coronaing of everyone going on, that desire for normalcy and return of norms takes on new hues; some very human and even desirable.  That while the purposeful too early opening of the country has already determined that being pandemiced is the new normal for at minimum a year (possibly permanently); until we get a vaccine or more life-saving treatment possibilities.  This has all opened many eyes to the disparaging realities of pre-pandemic America, where the life expectancy of people of color, and more so, the lower-middle-class to poor, were predominantly still only being addressed by their getting the establishment’s projected healthcare for them, eat st and die.  That goes for sociological maladies as well, for e.g., the lower-middle-class to poor suffering oppression from serial murderers masquerading as cops; police brutality tantamount to a incurable birth defect of all poor.  The injustice system and their dictating everybody accused of anything must plead guilty to a lesser charge or face the draconian rage of la machine’s dictating they get little lousy representation in fixed trials that most of the time determine ******* up or false convictions and incarcerations unequal to the reality of the circumstances that took place.  I wish I weren’t diffabled to the point where I can’t be at the front of these demonstrations for real change taking place now; as I had been for decades in the past- yet, still am doing all I can.  Thanx to you and All for doing all you do; have a great day    :)    reality
Randy Johnson Apr 2021
I'm an ex-prizefighter and my name is Glass Joe.
If you're wondering if I could win fights, the answer is no.
I got my *** kicked by a shrimp and his name is Little Mac.
I got knocked out in the first round when that boy attacked.
I'm called Glass Joe because my jaw is made of glass.
It was humiliating because anybody could kick my ***.
People laugh at my losses and it's something I resent.
I happen to be Glass Joe Biden and I'm the President.
I run America but I sure can't take a punch.
If you hit me in my stomach, I'll lose my lunch.
I lied to everybody when I said that I came from France.
I got *** whippings in the ring, I never stood a chance.
Even old women could knock me out and I'm not a fighter anymore.
If Americans learn that I lost ninety-nine fights, I won't win in 2024.
This poem was inspired by the Punch-Out video game
Jeremy Betts Jan 10
What do you do when you don't feel safe in your own head?
Uncomfortable in your own skin, afraid of the demons under your bed
And all the monsters that have been locked away out back in the woodshed
Waiting for the day I said would never come is now right around the bend
It'll be here any moment, why pretend?
I worry more about what was left unsaid
Cautious of the where we're being misled to, not the when
I try not to fear what I can not comprehend
Really couldn't tell you if this is a life I'd recommend
Can't possibly know until the end
So come around again and ask me then

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 3
...the melting ice shifts and strikes a familiar tone against the glass tumbler, abruptly snapping me back to my actuality
It pains me to call it reality but I'm forced to do so untill I change what I see or my surroundings change me
Both options frighten me...

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 3
Like a drug taken for a quarter century, this writing doesn't help like it use to...
See,
I'm starting to feel like it's working against me
Holding me here in pain and misery
Cleverly disguised as creativity
I use to lie and say it was a way to get rid of all this negativity
But I've spilled so much blood and tears onto stationary
...and not even purely metaphorically...
I should be completely empty
Hell, I think I might be
I think it's moved onto draining my energy
Can I still call this writing therapy?
Is it healthy or does it keep me from a new me?
Holding tightly but in spite of me
Hiding a different side of a complex personality
A new level of maturity
Is it actually helping any?
Today it's hard to say, but maybe
Unfortunately, it's something I'm good at, a skill I enjoy and I don't have many
So I've begun to notice I look at it differently
It was suppose to help me let go of the painful unpleasantry held in many a memory
But it woke a part of my ego that I didn't know would grip so tightly
It might have been a mistake to rely on it so heavily
It's no longer moving along the story
No cautionary tales to learn from because they never become history
It becomes a bookmark that I don't use properly
I never move it to the page I left off on and now, I must admit openly, I'm doing it purposely
I keep the worst of me right next to me, close as a frienemy
All because I notice I DON'T write when I'm happy
And I like to write so I dance around emotions strategically
I don't know if it's anything worth saying but writing is calling and drawing me in closely
A ghostly presence that when I look closely I see my identity
It hasn't always been but is now a big part of me
But does it want all of me?
Can't say either way with any certainty
No AH-HA moment, no clarity, only a death grip on disparity
So I recklessly walk the line of happy and tragedy
Like a DUI test on the side of the freeway, drunken pageantry
Eyes closed usually
No thought of mine or anyone else's safety
Dangerously close to calamity
And I just worry

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 20
Love letters and flowers, sweets and treats
It's all wasted money and time
She belongs to the streets
She was never "mine"
Left her scent on many sheets
Simple as a glass of wine
Line as long as 20 meet 'n greets
A free-for-all free for all, small of her back there's even a sign
How'd I miss that...?
Does love actually make you blind?

©2024
~
January 2024
HP Poet: Melanii
Age: 27
Country: USA


Question 1: We welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Melanii. Please tell us about your background?

Melanii: "My real name is Arianna. I was born and raised around Dallas, TX and am currently still living here. As it relates to writing, my background draws heavily from exposure to the arts as a child and the fascination, I guess, for beauty that this instilled. My parents (but especially my dad) were enthusiastic about music, art, history, literature, and the sciences, and my interest in all of these topics was piqued by association. Growing up I can recall countless visits to the local art museum, watching documentaries in the evenings after school, attending operas with my parents, and running home after school in the early days of each month to see if the latest issue of National Geographic had arrived so I could soak up the pictures and get lost daydreaming of faraway lands and peoples.

With time these influences grew into a general interest in the humanities. I attended the University of North Texas in Denton from 2014-2017 and studied anthropology, French, and Russian after doing a 180 on my initial intention of studying and pursuing psychology as a career path at a different school. At the time it felt kind of reckless, but in hindsight it was definitely the right decision.

After graduating, I was working as a barista and somewhere along the way ended up going to Prague for a month in the summer of 2018 to do a TEFL certification, fell into poetry that fall, and then returned to Prague for 11 months in 2019 to teach English. It was very much the best and the worst of times: I met some amazing people while there, took the opportunity to travel around a bit, and lived and learned from a horrendous relationship that also transpired during that year. I definitely went into that experience without any clear objectives or expectations; looking back, life definitely took that complacency and turned the tables with it, and while it took several years afterwards for the dust to fully settle, I've made it out the other side stronger, more intentional, and more assertive than before.

Since then, life has really just been what it's been. There have been ups and downs, of course, but the lows don't hit as hard anymore. Right now, there's not much to report and I plan to keep it that way. It's nice. Peaceful. It's a new year, and with it I will continue to focus on working, saving money, making a dent in the hydra that my reading list has become, and overall just living well and building towards the future."



Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Melanii: "As a teenager I’d scribble fragments of poems here and there, but never considered writing to be a hobby. That all changed around September 2018 when, for whatever reason, I decided that I enjoyed writing and wanted to dedicate more time to it. As mentioned in Question #2, this was right around the time I was preparing to relocate to Prague. It's kind of hard to describe; maybe it was just the excitement of the unknown, but that whole period of time had a sense of magic and beauty about the way it was unfolding which the “discovery” of poetry as a creative outlet only elevated."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Melanii:  "At first, it seemed like “there was inspiration around every corner”, to quote another poet I read here on HP one time (can't remember who it was or the title of the piece, but they were describing how great poets like Bukowski seemed to find inspiration so effortlessly, and the way they phrased it has stuck with me). Fast forward five years to today, and while I don't write as prolifically anymore the words come when I have something to say.

Inspiration comes from many sources for me: music, art, and nature; random thoughts, feelings, ideas, and observations; the works of other poets; travel when it happens; disappointments in family and other relationships; loneliness…

As far as the actual writing process goes, it's pretty random. More often than not, I'd say the poems write themselves and I just jot them down once they're ready, or as they evolve and refine themselves to fruition. Not the most thoughtful approach, but it comes from the heart."



Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Melanii: "To me, poetry is a language — specifically a language of consciousness in its purest, most elemental form. Poetry has the ability of transcending and even defying the typical rules of language without losing cogency, and for me it's this inherent flexibility that makes it at once so unique and so impactful as an art form."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Melanii: "Federico García Lorca, Li Qingzhao, and Pablo Neruda are the top 3 names that come to mind. I enjoy the unique way that each one of them uses language and imagery to illustrate the pieces of their lives and humanity which they decided to share through their writing. There's an element of surrealism, sensuality, and expansiveness running through each of their writing styles that speaks to me in the way it encompasses the beauty and complexity of life's possibilities across good and bad times alike."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Melanii: "I enjoy traveling and would love to be in a place someday where I can do so more often. The urge to explore again has been gnawing at me recently, so after a little bit of research and number crunching, I renewed my passport and booked a flight to Peru for three weeks in March. I had promised myself to visit a new region the next time I traveled, and despite growing up in Texas I have yet to visit Latin America. The plan is to start in Cusco, sightsee there, then head south into Bolivia to tour the Salar de Uyuni, which has been on my bucket list since learning of its existence from National Geographic. I couldn't believe that a place like that was real, and words cannot express how excited I am to finally experience the landscape in person! With March marking the beginning of the end of the rainy season, I'm hoping to still catch some of the “mirror” effect that the salt flats are so famous for. After touring the flats, the plan is to take an overnight bus back to La Paz before heading north again towards Lima with some sightseeing stops along the way and a few days left over in the city before flying back home. So we'll see what happens!

Languages are a long standing interest as well. I studied French for 7 years between high school and college, and Russian for the 3 years I spent at university. Since graduating, I've kept up with both through podcasts, YouTube videos, news articles, and music, and despite being far from fluent in either it's helped a lot with retention and comprehension. Learning ancient Greek has also been an on-and-off endeavor since 2017 after reading Euripides’ plays and deciding that I'd like to read Medea in its original text someday. Time will tell if that ever happens, but I did recently complete an online introductory course to the language which was a nice memory refresher and helped with unpacking some of the grammatical concepts that threw me for a loop back when I first started and which are part of the reason I fell away from Greek in the first place. After Greek, I would like to learn some Coptic, Farsi, and Turkish, and would be satisfied with learning to read at least one sentence in Mandarin in my lifetime.

Outside of travel and languages, I enjoy researching and cooking dishes from various cuisines, reading, taking walks, trying out different exercise classes on days off (recently I've done tai chi, pilates, barre, aerial silks, and kickboxing, but in the past I've tried pole fitness, archery, aerial silks, cycling, and horseback riding), visiting art museums, dropping by the symphony or opera once in a blue moon, and watching videos and documentaries on philosophy, history, theology (not religious, though, just curious), and science."



Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for giving us an opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet, Melanii! We have loved adding you to this series!”

Melanii: "Thank you so much for having me and for all your efforts conducting this series of interviews! It's truly a pleasure having the opportunity to break the ice and learn more about our fellow poets."



Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Melanii little bit better. I indeed did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #12 in February!

~
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
(An After Dinner Desert Conversation)

He: I love you

She: I love you more

(this repartee ballet, has been rehearsal~danced  since our first season)

He: Why? That surely cannot be!
(on certain paths, he is more skeptic, than convert)

She: Because you are
kind and generous,
to street beggars,
my single friends,
(all who want to meet your
non-existent brother)
good and smart,
love dance, the Giants, and art,
go to bad superhero movies,
accommodating me
(as if you wouldn't go secretly),
never let me down,
love my cooking,
kiss my neck like no other,
hand me a tissue just before
I sneeze (how you do that..)

leave space for others
when you car park,
go thru life making
waiters, doormen and ticket takers
smile and laugh-appreciated,
then you tip crazy generous,
money worries put aside

restful sleep for hours,
head on my bumpy hip,
write me crazy love poems,
Veal Chops and a Day at the Ballet,^
never show me your love poems,
(tho one can peek, when you're asleep)
lest I might cook for you every night,
which you would feel guilty about

woman-injured,
you let me
repair the damages,
and I wonder how
she missed the gentle,
what the world so easy sees
when you sneezes poetry
from its crazy atmosphere

always have a plan,
the best of which is when
you announce no plan today,
maybe bed, maybe movie,
maybe movie in bed,
maybe all maybe none,
and that was exactly
what I was thinking,
which you already knew,
but have reservations made for
our special days through 2024

He: This mystery boy,
whom I don't recognize,
can't be me, for I am the
restless and writing type,
in the wee morning hours,
not a planner or plotter,
a slow and steady plodder,
lazy as the day is long,
shaves but once a week,
keeps his inside stuff,
well hid and most discrete,
drives like a madman in the
video game of Manhattan's streets,
delays the pressing troublesome matters,
asking only workman's wages and
what's for dinner tomorrow night?

She: A ****

He: This mystery boy,
never met him, never seen,
his existence, Einstein failed to prove,
maybe he's roaming the hallways,
oblivious to gravity,
(but not hunger pains,)
overhearing poems,
in languages he doesn't speak,
while riding the M31 bus,
for free, on an expired Metrocard,
cause the bus drivers wave him on knowingly,
his poetry writing sanctuary, they drive,
where they will be perchance, immortalized

if **** is your menu upcoming,
set a table for three,
his heart and soul will be in attendance,
his growling stomach sending his
appointed messenger,
tin foiled wrapped communications

surely as sure can be,
this mystery boy,
gonna want an extra slice of
life tarted with you,
in order to prove gastronomically,
The Theory of Relativity Poetically,
*should I ever see him
Yes, I have a love poem called Veal Chops and a Day at the Ballet, of which, this is an excerpt, and is the After Dinner Desert Conversation conclusion.
Jeremy Betts Mar 27
Life is tricky, gets sticky quickly
I'd love my day to day to be monotony heavy
This smile is a forgery
...mostly
My demons are imaginary
...mostly
Every foot placed in front of the other is scary
I've been doing it for 40 plus years, I'll figure it out eventually
Look how easily I lie to me
Do I know anything wholeheartedly?
Same sh*t different day,
And honestly,
I'd welcome blasé openly
Hopefully
I get the opportunity

©2024
Nat Lipstadt May 3
It’s good to be hated!  But I know my name…


hate, blackened, misshapen, ugly, unnatural,
yet
how it clarifies the mind, like a cupped hand
carrying clear, cold, brook water to dry mouth,
to shock, enliven, resets resets, all your priorities
with alacrity, a word I prefer cause it is an intuitive
combo of eagerness + alarm, suddenly much of the

trivial is no longer worthy of your  ‘to do’ list,
you, without thinking, DNA filter your filters,
those screens that digest, then reject & reflect
the inputs ongoings around you, and you are now
reclassified! by the hate surrounding, it declassifies
the time wastrels, reinterpreting most everything 
on a bipolar scale of  1  or  10, there are no shades,
the middle ground of gray be fully eliminated,
just like those who wish to
eliminate
                                                                ­                   me.


in a palette of black or white, your
e +e,
(essence and existence) cannot be ever
a gray area, yes, of course, the sunshine
is yellow bright, and the grass is spring
flushed green, the multicolored daffodils
newly define colors varietal, and the waves
of the Sound, roll relentlessly, but hate can be
coated, camouflaged and subtle disguised, but
we  know, oh how we know, and how we wanted
to
forget, our “sins”, our original liabilities of
our multi colored skins, our religion, our race & ethnicity,


but NOT our names!

the Rabbis tell us that God nearly did not keep
his promise to Abraham, to rescue his progeny
from slavery in Egypt but saved them only because:

‘On account of four things Israel was redeemed
from Egypt: they did not change their names, they
did not change their language,  they did not speak
slander and not even one of them was found to be
promiscuous.’^

I know my name; and though you cannot distinguish
me by dress, know not my moral life, but now you
know my name,
given to me by my parents, in the language of my ancestors:

Mordecai Netanel ben (son of) Eliyahu Chaim**

Per my family lore, as told to me by my parents, our
family fled from Spain because of the Inquisition (1478),
settled in a small town in Germany on the banks
of the river Lippe; and from the shtetls of Poland,
and those who survived or avoided the Holocaust
ultimately left Europe, came here, to the land of
the free, the United States of America with names,
in their language, with memories intact.

I will not flee this country,
for I know my true name,
inscribed in my pores, in my
DNA

<>
(but should I have to…there is a sanctuary.)
May 2 2024
^ https://jewishaction.com/religion/jewish-law/whats-the-truth-about-the-jewish-in-egypt-keeping-their-jewish-names-language-and-dress/
Uncertain if my one man pep rally appeals to thee most amazing, daring, grueling... youngest aspirant to restore Earth in the balance predicated upon uncomfortable truth. The old geezer here would be over the moon if ye desired, and received majority votes to usher desperate legislation to  mitigate dire planetary dilemma, thus whim what might seem far fetched brainstorm, could help aright (with leftist support) precariously perched world. Methinks ye would be dynamic force to implement apropos measures.

Vice President Elect Alexandria Ocasio Cortez - 2024

Circa...approximately eight days shy
of one month
following her thirty fifth birthday
October 13th, 2024
AOC became the second
most powerful female
within American political realm
amazingly enough to grace
the hallowed halls of the White House,
as the second-highest officer
in the executive branch

of the U.S. federal government
and youngest demoiselle ever
to assume as right hand woman
of commander of chief
within Oval Office
amidst landslide victory
among competing candidates
ousting current establishment incumbent,
elected to serve United States
despite being neophyte,
she received most

votes of any contender
since founding of Democracy
to assume modestly furnished
Capitol Hill - Washington
District of Columbia
most powerful post
within the United States
immediately electrifying North America
with her megawatt smile
crackling, snapping, and popping
with positivity, integrity, energy...

Deafening applause swept across nation
upon ascending dais prior
to uttering one word,
she immediately wowed
darling of the hour
received standing ovation
across greensward donned bajillion crowd
cheering, imploring, pumping...
green sleeved fists acclamation
action speaking decibels

louder than words bowed
young lady brought to genuine tears,
asper bona fide accreditation
understandable that newly
minted ma'am felt proud
to stride rite, (an air of modest
confidence) did enshroud,
sans an angelic halo augmenting
as optimistic words heard aloud
heralded sincere charming, intimating,

radiating... no frills accustomation
as if pledging troth to every citizen
(inclusive every flora and fauna) vowed
to steer ship of state toward ecologically,
environmentally, essentially...activation
away from fossil fuels shifting energy
consumption vis a vis alternate modalities
sow rejuvenation plowed
back into Earth
prioritizing monied allocation

(dollar amount well
worth wads of investment) actualization,
where future generations will be grateful
to dead recent forebears for gift endowed
worth more than fine spun gold regarding
preservation of Gaia,
how **** sapiens adaptation
made existence for all creatures
great and small.

Upon clinching nomination as First Lady
of the United States (FLOTUS)
said Millennial Puerto Rican political wonk
served as the U.S. representative
for New York's fourteenth
congressional district since 2019,
as a member of the Democratic Party,
she exhibits even handedness
among all living things divided
into five kingdoms:

animal, plant, fungi, protist and monera,
even SpongeBob SquarePants
gifted healthier allowed
populace to breathe easy and rest assured
quality of life for billions (ushering universal
family planning), despite tense adjudication,
especially when linkedin with
nuclear warheads disavowed,
but eventually jump/
kickstarted synergistic administration.
Jeremy Betts Feb 7
There's a darkness in me
I mean, probably only figuratively
We'll have to wait and see
Seven masks of sin but one entity
All splitting a single fractured personality
Head spins wildly
I've searched quietly
I've asked loudly
I've had to cry and scream internally
Keeping it caged and locked inside has caused me to break down repeatedly
No outcome that I've found is a guarantee
So, I guess it's a guaranteed mystery
Of course it is, fuuck me...
Something that quite possibly will only make sense to me in a different plane of reality
...uh...that doesn't help at all actually
Hopeless is often a stand-in for the elusive positivity
It comes along so rarely one could hardly be blamed for questioning the authenticity
Then there's this two way brutality
It devours not because it's hungry but because it's so god daamn greedy
I'm not suppose to let it out of me
I'm told this as I feel it under my skin ripping up the already dilapidated basic human anatomy
This is a one man operation so it breaks out occasionally
But the goal though, if it were to ever be left up to me, my preferred destiny
The socially dreaded monotony
I embrace it knowing it will never be enough to right such a severe mental instability
Didn't think it was destined to be a doomed mission but maybe it was done vainly
It's not easily put into words but it feels like thievery
It's stolen chunks of life from me and didn't have the decency to even leave me a silver hair sliver of a memory
Turned me into a mockery of Jeremy
Right back to the old me
My own worst enemy
A part I've played so absolute I almost destroyed me
I've explained it to me slowly
Barley made it this far and the next 40,
They're looking to be just as iffy
Half devils reject, half whatever you see
Sprinkle in a little lie here and there as a preserve for longevity
Worry about it later, only if it bites me
100% broken but realistically only maybe half evil so, you know, 333

©2024
It's Valentine's day so
Take my hands today
And come walk with me
And we'll listen to our hearts beating in perfect harmony all day and our love grows stronger every day and the happiness and love deep inside our hearts every day and
I will hold you so tight
All through the night
Kissing you softly under the Moonlight and the stars will shine so bright
And I'll never let you out of my sight and you belong in my heart tonight and on this special day I shall always treasure every day and I love you so much my beautiful and gorgeous girl so happy valentine day.
Valentine's Day 💘💘💌💘💘💌💌
Rays Of Light

Information contextual
never absolute
Naked in isolation
relative and moot

Inspiration celestial
gifted from the throne
Sending rays to light the dark
— truth to stand alone

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

Science

One step
forward
two steps back

Look around
you
see the facts

Sky scraped
cities
health care gods

Obese
on drugs
gender fog

Ghetto
masters
children ******

War
a plaything
religion owned

Information
but a mask
to hide us from the truth

DNA
and quantum theory
— kills the Golden Goose

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)


Dreamsleep

No words into boxes
all Muses set free
Not quatrain or sonnet
or limerick for me
The feeling’s unleashing
the verse as decreed
Whose words birth inside me
— unspoken in dreams

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)


Feelings

They come to
me vacant

No plans
to deceive

In silence
they wait

My words
— to conceive

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Jeremy Betts Feb 13
Stabbed in the back
I never bled
Heart ripped out
Not one cracked rib

Contorted and twisted trying to fit a mold
Almost did but didn't break
Absorbed every physical blow
Not a single bruise did it make

Took in each syllable of every verbal assault
Still I stand tall
Blamed for trust and abandonment red flags forged by others
Still couldn't crush my spirit at all

Opened up and bared it all just to have it used as ammunition
Refused to clam up completely
Kicked repeatedly when down
Tried to prove it's deserved, couldn't convince me

PSYCH!!
HAPPY NATIONAL OPPOSITE DAY!

©2024
Josie Apr 9
My solitary self came wrapped in blankets
Searching for answers in murky clouds
Illusions shattered
The answer came in darkness
In peaceful awakening
A mystical enigma fills my soul with wonder
And I am never the same
One, one-hundredth of a century, one tenth of a decade,
Eight thousand, seven hundred, and sixty hours,
Five hundred twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes,
Thirty one million, four hundred forty nine thousand,
Six hundred seconds, three hundred sixty five days,
You just traveled through, in the year, twenty, twenty three!
Everyone has their own ways to slice it, dice it, cut it up,
In any size or shape. We only are served a limited amount,
In this life, use it to be productive, do not waste any, clean your plate,
You can cut it like a pie, so much to think in quiet alone,
To find, and meet your soul, another piece, to discover,
Your hidden talents, God sent you to this life with, for this short stay,
Everyone’s, is a little different, every day, plan, a piece for fun,
Time outside, connecting with nature, for we are a part of everyday,
Stay away from, the modern mind controlling devices, that give,
More power and control, over your short life to strangers, making,
You tell, real people in your life, you do not have enough time, in a day.
As you open your door, and welcome in, twenty, twenty four,
Think positive, associate with those who do the same, do not listen,
To negative stories, or repeat the weather report, many times a day,
The times have changed, take charge of your life, before, your mind,
Is totally under control, to others, as many actions already are today.
How often, do you only look for messages, or phone calls, twice a day,
Then let the phone lay, or schedule, one hour of television, turn it off, a
Walk away … take your life back, on new year’s day, life is a very short stay!

The Original: Tom Maxwell c 12/17/2023 A.D.
Happy New Year to all of the wonderful poets on here!
ladies change during the Christmas season You can walk up to a lady and say ** *** ** and they smile.....try that on a hot July day...
David P Carroll Nov 2023
A cold snowy November
And the snowflakes twirl like dancers tonight and there's a
Bitter chill and stinging wind all night and the wind is howling
Tonight and
The temperature
Here is below zero
And a snowy blanket covers the street
And the cars are snow white
And it's so neat and
I gaze out at night
And from the window I'm watching the snow falling all through the night.
Snow ❄️ 🌨️ Fall.

— The End —