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 571° 
Lovely
We are so capable of love...but still choose to be toxic...
 526° 
Masha Yurkevich
Person A
and
Person B
were together and
very happy.
Then came along a
Person C
and kinda ruined everything.
But to make things
a bit
more crazy,
came along a
Person D.
Now person
A, B, C, and D
are anything but happy.
Who knew that
letters of the alphabet
could be so nasty.
Inspiration came when one of my friends was explaining a confusing matter to me, and was using letters instead of name(which is good in some cases).
 390° 
NC
The Cat is in the box
The box is too small
She sleeps by the fire
Caring not at all
 360° 
Stephen James
a mother cries as
another dies; returns to
ashes—fading eyes.
a haiku
 308° 
natalee
the black ink smeared by tear drops on my paper reminds me of the sky the day your parents told me i was the reason they cried in the shower at night
 285° 
Nie
I wish i was kissing you instead of
Missing you.
 240° 
DaysongMercrest
Juliet: 'Mother, I know you want the best, but truly, am I your daughter?
Nurse, Oh how you love me, you raised me higher! I am your daughter.'
(Part Of My English Homework)
 240° 
Zelia Valdez
I collect my strung-together apologies
And weave them tightly around my teeth
because god forbid what the world might say
if they saw what's underneath
 144° 
Sim
silk sheets burst into flames
blood drops of a victimless crime
devour me with your ruby gaze
pray on me one last time.
 129° 
Kimman
A
girl
In my dreams
In my wildest dreams
Gorgeous,Smart and Sweet.
  I have never seen
anything like it
Never touched
more tender skin
Never kissed
   more cherrier lips
Well,
A dream's a dream, I guess
A dagger in, A bullet out.
.
 126° 
irises
someday it will
come again.
someday someone
will come in.

a star
with the deepest depths in the eyes
with the gentlest of breaths
and endless soul in the smile

one day
i'll forgive this pain
not forget -
forgive.
we are all destined to love again, i am sure
 116° 
Bus Poet Stop
spring planting, spring harvesting, spring garlic

One of the great joys of having a job in agriculture
is to think days, weeks, even months ahead,
One of the great joys of having a job in poetry,
like a fireman,  a patient planter of love,
you wait to be called,
then becoming by being,
part of an all consuming burning

come spring, take advantage of the cool, wet weather of spring
to put in multiple crops of peas and lettuce, also a great time
to get your perennial vegetables,
like asparagus and rhubarb, started

the planting cycle is not an either/or,
come harvest thy labored fruits,
nine crops to harvest come March,
kale, pick leaves as needed,
leeks, best left in the ground
and harvested as needed,
parsnips, purple sprouting broccoli,
rhubarb, spring cabbage, spring cauliflower,
and of course, my personal fav,
Spring Garlic

Garlic, like like love, is generally planted in the fall,
before the frost and harvested the following late summer.
But from March to May,
once the ground has truly thawed,
the young lover plants, spring garlic or green garlic,
can be harvested.

it’s a long bus ride to Western Canada
where the garlic spring has come,
ain’t complaining lots of time to write foolishness
and plant a few good bus poems in northern ontario
and even michigan,
the window slides, and the seeds scattered,
but at every bus poet stop,
those that need it,
planted many inches deep


April 2 naught how I wish I was nineteen again
 102° 
Cobear
You wanted to know the real me  
So I introduced you to my depression
You wanted to know why
So I introduced you to my obsession
You wanted to know how to fix it
So I introduced you to the drugs
You wanted to know the feeling
So I introduced you to the plugs
Now we self destruct together
And it’s all my fault
Too many introductions
Now you’re falling apart
I’m sorry that I caused this
I can never get to close
dragged you into my darkness
Now we take the same dose
 100° 
Nettie
Do you ever feel
Like
   you
      might
         be
            falling?
Do you ever think
                            That
                         you
                     won't
                   be
             able
          to
      get
  back
up?
Fight that feeling
A
n
d
And take the
                    st
                    ai
                  ­  rs
                      to the top floor.
i wanted to try something new. Hope you like it and can read it! :D
 94° 
Osiria Melody
Your venomous words
Poison my feeble, stale
mind

My blood oozes out from
my wrists like soap departs
from an exhausted sponge

My eyes, inflamed from
crying tears that could
water the deadest plants,
trickle down my skin,
which kiss my open
wounds a good night

Exhaustion pulls me
to bed, all crimson-
stained and withered

These venomous words
Emerge from my greatest
enemy: my dearest mind



Melody
4/17/19
Please know that I'm here for you if you need someone to talk to. I'll always be here for you. Dark subjects are serious; I would never write poems about dark subjects to make light of them. I wrote this poem after a scenario of a troubled individual popped up in my head; this individual struggled with self-harm since the voices in their head were too unbearable. Again, please know that I'm here for you if you need someone to talk to.
 93° 
Mark Upright
The World Requires Edmund Black’s Random Acts of Doughnut Kindness (1/36)

Edmund!


a friend mutual on HP
sent me your poem below
asking me to respond appropriately,
close the tale, he said,
and that I would understand,
thinking by being marked,
I had some expertise in the matter

perhaps you are unaware that the world
exists only because there are at least thirty six^
righteous men on the earth and
personally believe,
there are more

who they are, a well kept secret,
but secrets tend to leak so...

only one,
Mr. Edmund,
employs a dozen doughnuts
(chocolate frosted)
to follow through
on the most important
commandment human
love thy neighbor
with a dozen holies

I’m told that like certain loaves of bread,
a dozen doughnuts
now have along with
wine and water
a place in the repertoire of the selector of the
thirty six

which needs noting,
a dozen
is 1/3 of thirty six

sometimes the answers are in the wholes of the holiest!


<•>
Edmund black
Jul 15

My Perfect Morning

The climate in the
World may change
But it will never
Change me
not for a moment
I truly have the most
amazing  life ,
Couldn’t be any better
I get up every morning
Next to  this gorgeous
amazing woman
Get my morning kiss
Maybe a few morning kisses
in my open mouth
If you get my drift
Cause you know I’m in love
Sit back in the back patio porch
Listening to Mother Nature’s  
Performance
while reading hellopoetry
Few minutes later
I told my lady  I had to
Go run  some errands
Not realizing yet
What’s up ahead,
Arrived and
While in line at Chrispy kreme’s
A little boy about 5 years of age
Loosing his mind over some
Chocolate frosted
Mother and father told him
They couldn’t afford it
They were only there for coffee
Little boy started
crying hysterically
My Heart Cries out for him
And chivalrously I’ve waited
in line right behind them
Just couldn’t allow
That to take place
I told dad if it was okay
I would love to buy the boy
a dozen chocolate frosted
He accepted and gave
me a hand shake
Mom teared up and dad
wouldn’t Stop thinking me
I hate seeing good
People like this
But anyway,
What an awesome moment
A moment of love sharing
And here’s the most
Amazing part of
my early morning outside
Of my morning kisses
I got the longest hug
From the little man
A handshake
From dad
And a kiss on the cheek
From mom
What can be any better
Than the life I live
I do what I want
And it’s mostly
Helping other people
That’s all that matters.
Having meanings in
Other people’s lives
Fulfills me ,
And what more
Can I say ,
My perfect
          Morning

I live life
For the inexplicable
Moment
Life is love and love
     Always gives
                    ALWAYS
^Mystical Hasidic Judaism as well as other segments of Judaism believe that there exist 36 righteous people whose role in life is to justify the purpose of humankind in the eyes of God. Jewish tradition holds that their identities are unknown to each other and that, if one of them comes to a realization of their true purpose, they would never admit it:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tzadikim_Nistarim
If you build him
he will come,
in the evening stars
in the morning sun
if you build him
he will come.

The fact is
faith takes patience
and practice.

Miracles like magic shows
are ten a penny,
everyone knows someone
that does some,


If you build him
he will come.

( almost Field of Dreams )
 72° 
xeno
Old man in the night,
on the banks of the river,
carefully looks about,
no one must see him
in this deadly serious,
childish play.

In a white wax paper pastry bag,
he gently places the memories,
slippery feelings, a handful of tears,
an abundance of joy and a little,
lit tea candle.

Bending he delicately places it
upon the water, as though it were
some priceless thing and he sits
hands folded in lap, feet out,

on the river bank. watching
the white bag as it dims
and drifts away.


© P.M.H 2001
 69° 
Donna
I laze in garden
My dogs lounge on patio
Birds sing happy songs
:)
Thank u for all your lovely messages I’m feeling much better to what I was and to make things even better the weather here in England today is beautiful x
 67° 
too soft
They say the devil don’t judge but I’ve met him and have never felt harsher judgement.
To my father.
 66° 
clever
but really,
you've just never seen me not in love
with you.
 64° 
Ava
I can compare
myself to a tree
and the way its
branches sway
I am lost in
the restless wind
yet still rooted
to one place
I want to go
but I never will
till the day I die
so instead I send
these poems
like leaves just a
forgotten goodbye
they will survive
long after me
drifting through
all of space
and decomposing
only to feed me
so I guess
I'm just selfish
not a giving tree
I take from you
and you take from me
but in the end
we all breathe
 64° 
Emma P
Sun
When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting
Theres something I need to say
A truth I must share
I believe this true for many of us here

This isnt me
This isn't all I am
I am not only heart break and despair

The me you done see
Is that of smiles everyday
For when im happy I exist elsewhere

When I am drunk on life
And my heart is a fluter
I am out there living for myself
Not dying in here with you
 62° 
Star BG
I share my poetry with the
all spiritual beings in the Universe.
With the sun and stars
who vibrate divinely
feeding my creative juices.

I share my verse with angels
and archangels
who drift in dimensional highways.
With aliens living in the cosmos
that visit my star lit fields of prose.

I share with fellow writers
on an Hello Poetry site divine.
With my significant lover,
who responds with a warm hug.

And I share it with God,
the one who started it all.
Inspired by Perry  THANKS
 62° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 61° 
Bus Poet Stop
~for those who will read this and weep~

the quiet ones,
the silent Job ones,
who quote not from the
Book of Lamentations,
but author their own,
based on-the-Job experience

localized versions of cryptic elegiacs
accepting the wooden crosses borne,
stepping up to the
unrequested unforeseen,
then buried under, burnt alive,
yet never relieved by dying,
nailed by words, stronger than iron,
promises sworn, promises kept
with no ending date relief,
promises by and to themselves,
but not for themselves!


the wearers of crystal glass shackles,
adorned with decorative locks for which
no key did the maker make,
nor any divine creator
dare conceive an early release,
never no escape contemplated,
for the lock human, unrepentant unbreakable,
a decorative useless metaphor gesture,
a blunt “life *****” advertisement

I compose amidst a
bus pond of mismatched city folk,
a tapestry of ages colors and differing views on god/no god,
none would believe that as the bus sways me,
it’s in rhythm to holy choral music,
hundreds year old,
divinity masses and motets worships,
where one human can hide temporarily
a safe house,
to calm his questioning relentless
from the horrors of no answers,
for when the mind has no solution
to the rough and tumbling lives,
lived in glass shackled confinement,
the poets desperation equals theirs


summon eagles to transport these imprisoned,
but the shackled refuse,
I come to them but they wave me off,
I go crazy for once I was enslaved,
thirty years war that left devastation,
from which so many poems created

so I speak with heightened regard
of one who planned futures for others where his
non-existence was a founding father (ha!)


but the day came and
I was released by my own inactions,
but means nothing until a way to
away found
to release the yet bound early


got a couch, airline miles, hundred dollars
in my pocket and an unrelenting need
to save them, a consumption disease,
the glass shackled, at ease,
won’t rest till all are freed
this my creed
no one left behind

these cyber words do not mock
for they are unbounded, set free,
when
the flesh connects and the needs of the flesh
are stronger for they are in heart conceived
 61° 
Poetress2
To all of you,
I want to say;
Thank you for bringing,
Sunshine my way.
~
The comments you leave,
truly makes my day;
I no longer feel,
my words are in vain.
~
I do not write,
for compliments;
I write for all,
the ones' depressed.
~
And what I pen,
is from my heart;
I have no other,
place to start.
~
So thank you all,
for encouraging me;
Sometimes that's all,
I ever need.
 59° 
Esther Pollak
The cycle repeats

the roosters are prepared
they know it’s coming

it rises
it only grows.

but gives itself away
so the other can shine too

they seldom meet
but know each other so well
What does this scene remind you of?
 58° 
Jennifer
‘are you lonely?’
my reflection asks,
her fingertips touching mine.
‘no,’ i smile

‘i have you.’
maybe my own company isn’t so bad after all.
 57° 
lmbf
Dear me,
Your whole life is out there. It's just waiting for you.

Even though your life is still short, you've done so much with the time you've been given. Can't you see? You've written endless poems about friendship and love. You've lived in many places too. Even though it did affect you a little bit, you still did your best to make lasting friendships, despite knowing that you might only have a short time to spend together. Others might have just kept to themselves if they were in your place. And though you got hurt at times, your heart never became angry towards the world. The way I see it, that's the attitude of some of the strongest among us.

That's why you shouldn't be hurt if sometimes you don't get the things - or the people - you love the most. It only means, they weren't right for you...yet. What will be given instead, in time, is not what is right but rather what is best for you. Just trust in it.

You are stronger than you think.

Yours,
lmbf

-

Originally written in Tagalog.

Nandiyan po ang buong buhay mo. Hinihintay ka niya lang.

Kahit maigsi pa ang buhay mo, nakagawa ka na ng marami sa oras na binigyan ka ng ating Diyos. Di mo ba nakikita? Nagsulat ka ng maraming poems tungkol sa pagkaraon ng kaibigan at sa pagmamahal. Nabuhay ka sa maraming lugar. At kahit ikaw ay naapektuhan ng kaunti, pinilit mo pang magkaraon ng kaibigan, kahit alam mo na baka maigsi lang ang oras na kasama mo sila. Magtatago na lang ang mga ibang bata kung palaging ganyan ang sitwasyon nila, katulad sa'yo. At kahit minsan sinasaktan ka, hindi kailanman naging galit ang puso mo tungkol sa mundo. Sa tingin ko, yan mismo ay ang ugali katulad sa mga mas matapang sa ating lahat.

Kaya, huwag kang maging malungkot kung minsan hindi mo nakukuha ang mga bagay - o ang mga tao - na mahal mo ng sobra. Ibig sabihin, hindi pa sila bagay para sa'yo. Ang ibibigay na lang ay hindi yung mga bagay, pero yung tamang tama para sa'yo. Tiwala lang.

Ikaw ay mas malakas kaysa sa tingin mo.
Summer Freewrite Sessions 2018 // A letter to myself. i realize now how much of my work is centered around sad topics and felt I needed to remind myself of a few things.
 57° 
Napolis
my love
the depths
of my heart
that I have
given you

I can
never
take back.

or give
witness
to another.

entwined
and shadowed
as one
we have
become.

in the
breaths
that we
take.

the sun
and half
slivered
moon
that we
follow.

always I
will be
here,

and you
here
beside
me.

and when
we awake,

we will
nourish
each other

another day.

and support
and devote

all that
we do

to each
other's
needs and
God's faith
and our
soul's
salvation.

to the end
of days.


to God's
first light.

and eternity is

but the
first kiss

I give
you

tonight.
 51° 
Ivan Brooks Sr
For many centuries,
She stood majestically.
She saw many tragedies,
but have stood defiantly.

When disaster struck,
She emerged unscaled.
It's not just by sheer luck,
On her, our Lord was nailed.

Amidst the charred ruins,
and the hot burning flames...
As if reborn with spread wings,
she radiated like ten light beams.

The cross at Notre Dame,
like Jesus on the cross of Calvary,
took it all until the firemen came.
The cross at Notre Dame will never go away.

IvanBrookspoetry
4.17.2019



'
This was inspired by another poet's work...credits
 50° 
Namit V Shah
Every Man
is a God...
Unconquerable
and Bold...

When asleep...
A poem on the destiny of the 'Every-Man'...
 49° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 49° 
Ciel Noir
I took          a trip
I took                a look
That tree could read me
Like                      a book
And                 open me
Like a             library
Cipher      in the
Sanctuary
Deeper
Still deeper
Inside the place
Where           secret
Knowledge         hides
The twin snakes ladder
Necklace              chain
Make life        by any
Other           name
 48° 
Emma
C              

          R

L                    E

I     N                        A

V                                          T             H    
                                                           ­ 
I          M           A            G            E

N                       W          O          R           D

G
Made this on my phone, so if you're viewing it on a computer and it looks like nothing, its because the formatting is hecked.

A deconstructionist poem about some ideas I have. If you'd like to know what I intended it to mean, then I'd be happy to explain, but there's really no wrong interpretation.
 48° 
Adarsh Jaiswal
It's Soft
Yet It Weighs
too Much.
 46° 
Dennis Willis
Wakey wakey
Corn flaky

I've got your serial
of hearts poured
out

I know I
will be
a fine time

But am I dinner
Lunch
Or breakfast time

Or will
I just be left
to pine

Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis
 46° 
hypnopunk
we hid
under the ramp
when it rained
it was made
out of splinters
and stained
with graffiti

we sat
and didn't speak
just looked
at grey puddles
on grey concrete
and dry grey stones
under our feet

we waited
because the ramp
was a shield
battle scarred
and wet
with graffiti
that we made
a memory from a few years back
 44° 
Poetic Eagle
If a broken heart still beats
It can still love
Being broken aint the end

give it a title pleaseeeeeee
 44° 
Edi
A smile so tiny.
A glanse so quick.
My heart just skipped a beat.
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