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Rafael Alberti
De sombra, sol y muerte, volandera
grana zumbando, el ruedo gira herido
por un clarín de sangre azul torera.

Abanicos de aplausos, en bandadas,
descienden, giradores, del tendido,
la ronda a coronar de los espadas.

Se hace añicos el aire, y violento,
un mar por media luna gris mandado
prende fuego a un farol que apaga el viento.

¡Buen caballito de los toros, vuela,
sin más jinete de oro y plata, al prado
de tu gloria de azúcar y canela!

Cinco picas al monte, y cinco olas
sus lomos empinados convirtiendo
en verbena de sangre y banderolas.

Carrusel de claveles y mantillas
de luna macarena y sol, bebiendo,
de naranja y limón, las banderillas.

Blonda negra, partida por dos bandas,
de amor injerto en oro la cintura,
presidenta del cielo y las barandas,

rosa en el palco de la muerte aún viva,
libre y por fuera sanguinaria y dura,
pero de corza el corazón, cautiva.

Brindis, cristiana mora, a ti, volando,
cuervo mudo y sin ojos, la montera
del áureo espada que en el sol lidiando

y en la sombra, vendido, de puntillas,
da su junco a la media luna fiera,
y a la muerte su gracia, de rodillas.

Veloz, rayo de plata en campo de oro
nacido de la arena y suspendido,
por un estambre, de la gloria, al toro,

mar sangriento de picas coronado,
en Dolorosa grana convertido,
centrar el ruedo manda, traspasado.

Feria de cascabel y percalina,
muerta la media luna gladiadora,
de limón y naranja, remolina

de la muerte, girando, y los toreros,
bajo una alegoría voladora
de palmas, abanicos y sombreros.
A gloomy sky
falls to the offended earth.
Boredom sews a bitter fabric.
We are but shadows
under a bad moon.
I would like to learn a new prayer,
a breath,
that gives me life again.
Mark levitt
Thank you for the experience of you.
If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
Kassan J Kassim
Some of us feel worthless,
hard to breathe living on the surface.
No matter what hurts us,
never forget what is your purpose.

And you're always worth it.
I don't know why
but lately I think is
it ok to be happy

Cause what I mean when I
say that

Is things tend to happen and
the darkness come clapping
at my door

But one things is sure
life has it's ups and downs

And the reasons why I write this
know is cause I can't let others
be put down
by others who think they wear a crown

This is why I say this, cause I don't want any
one to end up like me
A bird stuck in a cage never to be seen or free
I have had a lot of **** happen to me. But I say to all the kids and people
that still have a choice, ''TAKE THE MOMMENT SO YOU CAN BE HAPPY''
Caroline Smith
one day i’ll wake up and the thought of waffles will be on my mind instead of ur lips. our memories carved into the back of my brain. deep in the dark side. trying to get out. screaming and calling. but i’ll push them away. cause in the end you didn’t want me.
painted my dreams in the air, and you were my muse
Dear Reader,
if you're reading this
it means
I'm dead
as a paper


to be etched
with the poem
I tried to write
so many times
when I was m-
Your heart is really pretty
when you let it shine that way
it was the last time
you ever kissed me goodnight
the day the moon fell
Caged birds do not sing

Until they are given a voice

Do not fly

Until they learn to find their wings

But with patient nurturing,
they will grow from meek and timid things

From quivering chicks hiding in the shadows
Into a fledgling

Preparing to take flight into a sky of endless possibilities
Although reciprocation would be ideal
it does not have to be all or nothing.
If I can be
as a single flower is to the meadow
then I am content.
Scott Tizzard
Does the earth forgive the plow?
Does the cloud forgive the wing?
Does the sea forgive the sail?
Does the forest forgive the fire?
Does a tree forgive the axe?
Does a word forgive the mouth?
Does a stone forgive the hand?
Does a trigger forgive the finger?
Does a bullet forgive the gun?
Does a flower forgive the bee?
The sky cannot be broken
And neither will we.
have no fear,
don't look back
only take words of wisdom,
from your own soul.
u are ur own inspiration.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
and if i die tomorrow don’t worry
i’m already used to hell
The day came when my pen no longer
Wrote your name
Comes in many forms
When I was younger, I was told not to feel
"You'll just get hurt"
I listened

But then I see these people
Laughing and living

I disobeyed and felt
I was alive

But I should have listened
Now I'm hurt
Now I'm broken
Now I'm -
I read, it seemed, a thousand books. The looks I took through windows tall and wide did not hide from me my sorrow and sadness felt as I gazed upon the leafless trees outside. The Mayor of Casterbridge did not move me once; Othello did not touch me. The tears, the fears, did not abate as I sat in wooden chairs;  I simply starred at winter. I did not know how blind I was, seeing with only one half of one eye. I'd go into the stacks to cry;  a certain kind of comfort were all the lonely books that kept me company. No sudden symphony of enlightenment did I hear as I leaned against the shelves, themselves my only friends. The end seemed more near than spring seemed soon to blossom. I often was content to read the poems of William Blake and Tennyson and Coleridge and Keats in dark corners where no one stood but I. But as darkness grew to end the sun and color skies pure black, I knew it time to say goodbye to rhythms and to rhymes and begin my stroll along endless paths to sleep away my hidden horrors, and as well, my sorrows sodden.

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it
I don't know
if the air on the other side
is fresher or cleaner;
all I know is,
I'm suffocating here
Gonna change to a new job for better career growth; loved my company and the people I worked with

Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.

Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
Caitlyn Fletcher
I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me
i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much
self care is extremely important. most days I fight my depression by putting smiles onto others faces, but forgetting about my once bright smile.
David R
sing a song of soft intent
whisper magic incantent
feel heavenly connection
strengthen strings o' soul libation

weave a net of thought and letter
take a part in being begetter
tread your steps with surety
whispering words in purity

hew the air with mind 'n heart
see the visions take apart
mystic mist of shadow dark
letting shine everlasting spark
it makes us better
   love harder
   never quit trying.
   biting monkeys
   screeching madness
   always on our backs
   a time bomb to
   keep us guessing
   when when when
   the answer is
   too late to matter
   too late to change.
taylor styles
you told me i was pretty,
but you said i looked prettier on my knees.
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
The fun about puzzles
Is seeing an entire mural
Come alive
One piece after another
Connecting ends
And patterns-
That seem not to work
At first glance.
And maybe life is only all that,
A series of universal coincidences.
I spend too much time talking to someone and bam I have adopted their personality.
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
It always starts, we know
With that timid, first breath
Then some glow or some snow
And it always ends with good old death
She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
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.
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
For the better parts.
For the “soon”.
For my life to begin.
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.
Yesterday, April 8th, was my birthday. I wrote this poem two years ago, when I was 19 almost 20, and on my 22nd birthday I find that the website selected it as a daily and I have all these wonderful people saying wonderful things about my poetry. Thank you Hello Poetry, and thank you everyone else. This was the best birthday present I could have even gotten. (04/09/2021)
I was there-
I emoted-
I read-
I tried-
But why-
can't anyone-
I mean, I'm not desperate for attention but an acknowledgement would be nice ya know?
lost cause
if i wrote my future
all would be changed
from the way i was raised
to the thoughts in my brain
if i wrote my future
no love would be lost
so i’d stand right beside you
no matter the cost
if i wrote my future
i’d bring nothing but peace
and save you from sorrow
and the darkness that creeps
if i wrote my future
you’d still be here
but you wrote my future
and i did nothing
but stare
Coral Florian
our hearts weep for this inhumane society that we live in
you say you care but we hear you cheering for evil and hate
you say you are a stand for righteousness but we see your arrogance

our hearts weep for the injustice to our communities
you say you care for our families but you throw rocks at us
you say you love our children but you trash their future

our hearts weep
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