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 4878° 
Andres Martinez
Attracted to the broken
Like myself
I yearn to be fixed
To make amends
To feel once again
To wake up to my favorite person at my side
It’s not in the cards for me
And it wasn’t for you
So broken
No matter the repairs
I’ll never feel like new
Find me in a thrift store
Along with the other gems
Marked down due to being used
 1822° 
onlylovepoetry
when you love,
you’re a country,
pierced by daily border
exchanged crossings,
to your closest neighbor
and though,
one rerun~returns home by night,
to your prior defining borderlines,

somehow
the externals of the container has
had its internality's modified

for the lines that prior defined
have altered
by passing the
point of prior,
now by thousands of
tiny holes breaching the
thickened protective lining,
by love punches ‘n kisses of
pinprick punctures
the resistance,
pulverized
<>
you are changed,
new language combos spoken,
embrace another with a
bilingual tonguing,
a real treat
to entreat each other and
that hyphen,
that little tiny
linear
~
punctuation mark is
reflecting your creativity of a
Singular Duality

it is mark that
speaks to a new
U~no individuality,
blended and connected

somehow a duo of
someone’s pulverized lines
forms a single stronger
chord

first a puncture
then a patching
finally
an adhesion pleasuring
and a new working word:

composite

the opposite
of
opposite
12:39AM
11/14-24
 826° 
Shel
I don’t want to remember,
this last month of November.
Gouge it from my eyes,
carve it off my lips,
scrub it from my soul.
You see,
the moon rests high,
while the tides pulled low
and waiting for that change
merely hardens the soft blow.
 690° 
Peter Garrett
Today I've just laid
In my bed the entire day
Feeling absolutely numb
And that's what scares
Me the most...

I don't wanna go down
That road again
Every word feels off... everything feels off. But I kinda needed to write it anyway.
 454° 
Zelda
I must accept—
sunshine never shines the same way twice.

I learned long ago
some cuts
are mean to scar

Tarnished pieces
of sunshine,
Sunshine.

Epilogue
__

Oh, but darling,
You'll always be a guiding light—
Rotating star, a burning warmth
It's alright.
You'll always be sunshine,
Sunshine
 367° 
Nat Lipstadt
…in tears, may make other organs weep”

HenryMaudsley, 19th-century English psychiatrist”
<>
make no mistake,
the essaence of
Sorrow
is everywhere:

within the blood streaming,
in each celled nucleus
it etched, microscopic,
to the tear ducts connected,
a microbiome insertion everything

so when love torn,
deserted, merely mentally homeless,
no direction selected,
the weeping originates in
every limb and *****,
though no pain sensation need be present
or available to be nominated or accounted,
the tears can’t be closed off,
the torrential hurricane unceasing,
and through it comes with a wisp of a
smile attached,
for the flooding in a mirror
gleaming reflected
and at last
a true portrait
saved,
for a sorrow vented
is a sorrow
freed

a profile
completed
 320° 
Corrinne Shadow
When I was small
I wrote a song.
It was as wild
As it was long.

I did not know
How to write words
And so I sang
With the morning birds.

Now I am grown,
I am depressed.
I write long things
Just to impress.

I do not sing,
I only sigh.
When I was small
I was alive.
 263° 
amelie
they ask me what makes me think of you
and i can't really say because
rain makes me miss you
and books do too
i miss you when i'm writing
and when i'm crying
benson boone
dark blue
the shining moon
all make me think of you
reading gives me that feeling
and so does that sweater
so i guess there's no healing
guess you're stuck with me forever
 255° 
betterdays
I sit  down to
write,
Pen
in
hand
And
before me
the chasm.
Intent and plan
stand
with me,
desire too

On
the other side
Completion,
success
and the finished product
sit,
languidly throwing taunts
toward my team
of yet to be poetry.

Do I,
Will,I,
Can I
succeed..

To make
the minutia sparkle,
To make
the mundane ...miraculous
To make
the everyday moment
appear  exquisitely beautiful.

Do I,
Will I,
Can I,
Succeed in,

Making

the words upon a page
leap and pirouette, To make
them echt
a smile  upon
your heart.
To have them
express
the sadness
of the world's soul,
To settle the  emotion  
of the
moment
deep,deep
into
the marrow
of your bones.

Do I,
Will I,
Can I,

Take
that leap
Into the chasm of the unknown,
crying
Hallelujah
as I go...

You
know
I do.
...Every single
time...
Every
******
one.

When,
I sit down,
to write
Pen
in
hand.
 219° 
Diya Misri
Where once my dreams
Were filled with stars,
A need
Surpassing desire,
But as you set
Your gaze upon me,
I found
No need for them
At all.
 205° 
Alice Rylah Doyle
You can change, you can grow, but forever and for eternity, you’ll always be her.

The same eyes, the same nose. The same heart, the same toes.

Everything you change is only an upgrade from what you were.

The same tongue, the same ears, the same freckles, and the same tears.

You’ll always be her.
First poem on here.
 190° 
Aasiyah
some things
should be kept private
left unsaid
not shared
not spoken
sometimes i... post things i didn't really want to post. and it leaves me feeling this self-conscious fear in my head.

today, i feel tired, kinda hot and have a headache.
~
December 2024
HP Poet: CJ Sutherland
Age: 63
Country: USA


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, CJ. Please tell us about your background?

CJ Sutherland: "My parents both college graduates from St. Paul’s Minnesota. 4 days after they were married in a Catholic Church, they ran away to California. Mother, age 22, started having babies one after the other, a total of 5 children. As a young child, I thought my mother was dead, anytime I mentioned her, I would get a shove, a kick, a shaking of the head from my siblings.

Dad remarried; a make up artist with Warner Bros. Studios. She was unable to love another person‘s children. She was a mean wicked stepmother. She had one child, together they had two children. His, Hers and Theirs. The move from Burbank to the San Fernando Valley Tarzana was considered country. We had a ranch style house, a guest house, swimming pool with the slide and diving board and a pool house barn chicken coup for 200 chickens.

Age 10, a lady screamed at the house: "You can’t keep my children from me." My stepmother threatened to call the police. Looking out the window, holding my elder sister‘s hand, I said who is that? In a small, trembling voice, my sister said mom. We had a very tumultuous childhood to say the least, but it shaped who we were, and who we would become. I had a lot of questions. For a short period of time we were able to see mom and it was evident she was not well. One day she was gone, no explanation. She was dying of terminal cancer, but we didn’t know that yet. She stopped all treatment and became a homeless person in downtown LA Skid Row.

Age 19, her mother (grandmother) was dying and tasked me to find her daughter, my mom. I searched every alley, soup kitchen with an old photograph grandma gave me looking for mom. For months nothing. The last place a Thrift Store/ woman’s shelter where females could get feminine products, I found her. She came home with me for 2 days then told me she had to go back. She was in a hospice care with some Catholic nuns who told me she was dying; throat cancer; 46 years old. We had her back in our lives 3 months before she passed away. I struggled with all that happened, but life goes on.

All of us siblings excelled in school. We all maintained a 4.0 grade average. We all had aspirations to achieve careers. I was on a fast track to Medical School. I graduated high school age 15, started Jr. college and completed occupational courses for certification medical billing and coding specialist. So I can pay for college, I married at age 16, had a child at 19 and divorce at 21. My first husband was 5 years older, yet he was still a child. I swore off men.

Love at first sight. I am at husband number two. He told me he loved me after a week. He asked me to marry him. I told him he was flipping nuts. “I don’t even know you!” Looking in his eyes I knew he was serious. He had not met my child yet. If he could not love her as his own child as much as I loved him, I would not continue the cycle of the wicked step parent. Over the year they bonded. Two weeks before the year was up, he was down on bended knee. We have been married 39 years and together for 42.

I finally was accepted to USC. My dreams of becoming a doctor, we’re so close, 2 weeks before starting school. My husband‘s work moved him 5 hours away. Decision: divorce husband, become a doctor or stay married and change my dreams. We’ve had many adventures along the way, moving further up northern California, getting away from the rat race."



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

CJ Sutherland: "I started keeping journals at the age of 12. I’m currently on my 98th journal. Effectively I’ve captured my entire life and those around me in the moment. Life inspires me. My father invented the 5 cent word game. Pick a new Dictionary word, it must be 3 or more syllables and use it correctly all day long.
When you achieve that, you get 5 cents. We all had a 5 cent jar. Looking at all of those nickels was a testament to education. It was more than the money, it was improving our lexicon."



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

CJ Sutherland: "I hear a word or phrase on talk radio or music lyrics, I quickly have to write it down because it triggered a thought, a poem, a rough draft. I have pen and paper around the house when these moments strike to capture before they’re gone. While I’m on my daily walks at the park, I speak into the phone to capture inspiration. Then I put them in draft format. Currently, I have 51 poems in draft format, in different stages of completion. BLT's Webster’s word of the day challenge can be easily inserted at this point with the perfect word."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

CJ Sutherland: "Poetry is not something I do, it’s who I am. My ultimate goal is to compile a book of poetry. I would like to have at least one poem of every type of genre to broaden my horizon. I am published in 3 anthologies. I am a Poet Laureate with the International Poet Society. I was up for poet of the year three consecutive years. Florida hosts a week symposium with open mic to read your poetry, as well as classes on every aspect of poetry imaginable. I’ve received many accolades trophies, ribbons, coins, all in the quest for perfection. I too realize a certain amount of this was a scam when Poetry Books such as “up-and-coming poets”, “who’s who in poetry“ would feature me on the front page. Look beyond vanity and begin to see the light. While they are published books for purchase, they are meant to sucker the poet into buying several copies for their family and friends.

The poetry site crashed several years ago and I lost about 300 poems. I have been on other poetry sites whose purpose is for winning contests and publication in periodical and magazines. It’s a lot of work. Even with all of these accolades, this recognition is more precious to my heart. While somebody could read a poem and decide they think they know what it means and find it worthy, but to be able to know the back history from the poet and why they wrote that particular poem I find much more enriching. I wish everybody would fill out their bio or at least write foot notes why they wrote that particular piece of work."



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

CJ Sutherland: "My favorite American poets:
1) Walt Whitman; Song of Myself.
2) Emily Dickinson; Because I Could Not Stop for Death.
3) Robert Frost; The Road Not Taken.
4) EE Cummings; I Carry Your Heart and To Be Nobody, But You.

British poets:
1) Alfred Tennyson.
2) William Wordsworth.
3) Elizabeth Bennett Browning.
These are just off the top of my head.

While at the University I took classes in American and British literature, thinking it would be easy. It was harder than my medical studies. I loved the backstory of how the poet became who they are today."



Question 6: What other interests do you have?

CJ Sutherland: "With so many kids we made Christmas gifts. I started crocheting at the age of 12; the yarn given to me by the little old ladies at the church. My first blanket was 276 granny squares. I wish Sean one stitch to granny stitch. I’ve been crocheting for 51 years. I can see anything and make it without a pattern. I have two grandsons who moved into their own homes with their wives, they are both getting blankets for their new homes. So far, I’ve made four lap throws for watching TV. Each of these blankets take 3 to 4 days. I’m pretty fast.

I’ve done a lot of other things quilting, embroidery, canning. I make candle and soaps, and I’m on my way to be coming an herbalist. I cook every day from scratch. It’s a lot harder to make food for two people than it is for me to make dinner for 20 people. Bread making is my new passion. The art of artisan bread it’s definitely challenging. Jams and jellies are great gifts. I even make my own laundry soap for 2 cents a load. My creativity blends itself in many genres, whatever suits my fancy."



Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much CJ, we truly appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! We are thrilled to include you in this ongoing series!”

CJ Sutherland: "Thank you to Carlo for featuring me as the 22nd recipient of HP Spotlight. I hope everybody gets a chance to share their story. There are so many kind poets on this site I am lucky to call friends, I hope everybody checks out the different challenges such as BLT's Webster word of the day challenge."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know CJ a little bit better. I most certainly 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 #23 in January!
~
 146° 
Yonah Jeong
bunches of money has
blood and success
tears and sweat
but no love.
 133° 
Tom D
A swath of denim
in a frame of leather
On top of which lies
A cross of feathers
Cries this collage
of my personal
Abstract Expressionism
 133° 
Joginder Singh
यदि बोलोगे तुम झूठ,
बोलते ही रहोगे झूठ के बाद झूठ,
तुम एक दिन स्वयं को
एक झूठी दुनिया में गिरा पाओगे,
कभी ढंग से भी न पछता पाओगे,
शीघ्रातिशीघ्र
दुनिया से रुखसत कर जाओगे,
तब तुम कुछ भी हासिल नहीं कर पाओगे।
कुछ पाने के लिए
तुम मतवातर बोल रहे झूठ ,
क्यों बना रहे खुद को ही मूर्ख ?

जीवन में इतनी जल्दी
पीनी पड़ेगी ज़हर की घूट।
यह कभी सोचा नहीं था।
मुझ पर  मेरा दोस्त,
दुम कटा  कुत्ता
जो कभी भौंका तक न था,
अब लगता है कि वह भी
आज लगातार भौंक भौंक कर,
कर रहा है आगाह ,
अब और झूठ ना बोल ,
वरना हो जाएगा
इस जहान से  बिस्तर गोल ।
अब वह अपना सच बोलकर
मुझे काटने को रहता है उद्यत।

मुझे याद है
अच्छी तरह से ,
बचपन में एक दफा
झूठ बोलते पकड़े जाने पर
मिला था एक झन्नाटेदार चांटा ।

परंतु मैं बना रहा ढीठ!
और अब तो लगता है
कि मैंने ढीठपने की
लांघ दी हैं सब हदें।


अब मुझे तुम्हारा डांटना,
बार-बार आगाह करना,
नहीं  अखरता है ।
तुम्हारा यह कहा कि
यदि झूठ बोलूंगा,
तो काला कौआ भी भी बार-बार काटने से
करेगा गुरेज,
वह भी पीछे हट जाएगा,
सोचेगा, बार-बार काटूंगा,  
तो इस ढीठ पर होगा नहीं कोई  असर ।
मैं खुद को बेवजह  थकाऊंगा ।

आजकल
हरदम
मौत के क़दमों
की आहट,
मेरा पीछा नहीं छोड़ती।
कर देती है,
मेरी बोलती बंद।

वह घूरती आंखों से
मेरे भीतर बरपा रही है कहर,
मैं लगातार रहा हूं डर,
मेरे भीतर
सहम भर गया है।
जीवन कुछ रुक सा
गया है ।

अब आ रहा है याद
तुम्हारा कहा हुआ ,
" दोस्त,
झूठ बोलने से पहले
आईना देख लिया करो।
क्या पता कभी
आईने में सच देख लो ?
और झूठ से गुरेज कर लो !
झूठ के पीछे भागने से
तौबा कर लो।"

मैं  पछता रहा हूं।
जिंदगी की दौड़ में
पिछड़ता जा रहा हूं,
क्योंकि मेरे चरित्र पर
झूठा होने का ठप्पा लगा है।
सच! मुझे अपने ओछेपन की वज़ह से
जीवन में बड़ा भारी धक्का लगा है।
मेरा भविष्य भी अब हक्का-बक्का सा खड़ा है।
सोचता हूं,
मेरे साथ क्या हुआ है?
कोई भी मेरे साथ नहीं खड़ा है।
२९/०१/२०१५.
 121° 
K
the green notebook hidden in my nightstand
has letters to her on every other page

I read them to shadows every night
until I can fall asleep in her arms

when I wake up
her pillow is cold
 120° 
lins
8 months   in a blink of an eye
8 months   of our life gone by

8 months   of love like no other
8 months   being here for one another

1 year         getting to know your heart
1 year         never wanting to be apart

8 months   me and you together
8 months   leading us to forever
you are my whole heart

19/9/19
 117° 
Keerthi Kishor
Healing starts with
gentle grace.
By finding peace in your
own pace.
Love yourself,
let your fears unwind.
And trust will bloom in time,
refined.
 106° 
lonelywriter
I long for a love that knows no bound
I long for a love yet to be found

I long for days spent in a daze
I long for days that set me ablaze

I long for your touch, so reverent
I long for your touch, so dependent

I long for a love that you could give
I long for a love that could never live

I long for the day you finally see
that we were wrongly meant to be
 101° 
Jorge Luis Borges
No sé cuál es la cara que me mira
cuando miro la cara del espejo;
No sé qué anciano acecha en su reflejo
con silenciosa y ya cansada ira.

Lento en mi sombra, con la mano exploro
mis invisibles rasgos. Un destello
me alcanza. He vislumbrado tu cabello
que es de ceniza o es aún de oro.

Repito que he perdido solamente
la vana superficie de las cosas.
El consuelo es de Milton y es valiente,

pero pienso en las letras y en las rosas.
Pienso que si pudiera ver mi cara
sabría quién soy en esta tarde rara.
 94° 
Satvik gupta
A woman falls in love with the presence of man ,
A man falls in love with the absence of woman .
 93° 
S R Mats
Our relationship never existed
Not in the real world
It existed in the ether of time
In a breath exhaled by lovers
In the brief mist at dawn
Amidst the weightlessness
Of a vast distant universe
Although it was tangible there
Within two minds in open air
Warmed by only the sun
Dried by breezes blowing upon
Our naked skin as we glistened
 92° 
Dr Peter Lim
If I should die
this do remember
with no regret:
I'll still love you
in equal measure
from the Other Side
 89° 
Mark Bell
Sailed seven seas
To say three little
Words
Climbed mount
Everest not to absurd
Swam the oceans
To be at your side
To say
Three little words
Before you die.
Surfed the
planets
Walked in acid rain
So I can say these
Words again

Die you hag
 81° 
S A BISWAS
The day I met you, the world stood still,

A quiet moment, a heart to fill.

I saw in your eyes a spark, a flame,

A mirror of my soul that whispered my name.

Half of me wandered, lost in the night,

Searching for warmth, for love, for light.

Then you appeared, and the pieces aligned,

You were the half I was destined to find.

In your laughter, I hear a song,

A melody that carries me along.

In your touch, a calm so true,

Finally knew, the day I met you.

No longer alone, no longer apart,

You are the rhythm that beats in my heart.

The other half of my soul, complete,

A love like ours, nothing could defeat.
 79° 
Peter Garrett
Loving you is the
One stupid idea that
I'll never regret having
How could I ever do so...?
 73° 
Zoe
the moon watches
no light, mid night,

the stars yearn.


the sun indulges
hot ray, every day,

the clouds obscure.
some things are better off wanted.
 69° 
Hank Helman
In life we are alone.
Only death touches all.
 69° 
frcnchfry
coniferous trees
alike and similar to me
do not worry
for burdens will only fall

unaffected

guilty for feelings that do not spark
interruption— a blink or two
then time carries on

no reaction

the guilt grows deeper and deeper
if a pause, then a nod

all my fault
 69° 
Isaac
shatter your heart first
so it won’t be broken

trade your soul first
so it won’t get stolen

take your life first
so it won’t get ruined
Humans are weird.
 67° 
Traveler
Do I know crazy
I know him well
Too much time
In and out of hell

Even the strongest
Can't keep
The sky from falling
My motor's running
My mind keeps stalling

Here I am
If there’s anything you need
My heart is racing
My brokenness is in the lead
Traveler Tim
Love is splendid!
Love is never ended.
Lust soars above
mocking her love.
 59° 
Calvin Alden
My hand your shoulder
Your hand in mine
Green eyes lock blue
I push you move we step
A scratch a falter
We giggle and sigh
 58° 
Sarthak Gupta
You are on right path if you know that your past self wouldn't be able to handle what you can handle now.
What do you think?
 58° 
KHY
down a hole
a boy grows words
from his tonuge.

he speaks dirt
to sprout flowers;
so nurture his love

so his vines can
reach your garden
too.
nurture those that matter most to spread their love, and yours.
 56° 
Hanzou
All the things I did weren't enough
If the person I once knew
Tries to find those on others
It just means that
Even if I try to do better
If I'm not the person that is wanted
It's always never enough
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