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Michelle Nelson
Those moments fading slowly
Far away from yesterday-
When days were always brighter-
Laughter everyday.

This distance slowly growing
And the smiles seem less-
The days now are more quiet-
More quiet than the rest.

The unending happiness
Seemed too good to be true-
As each day was so perfect
Every time I was with you.

Drifting like a boat at sea
Like fading memories-
Miles apart from yesterday
Of a love not meant to be.
Brian Turner
Frozen stem
Frozen jem
Loud crack step
Loud crack prep

Snowy hill
Snowy thrill
Kids on trays
Kids afray

Snow goes away
Sky still grey
Ice starts to form
Ice becomes norm
Snow and ice in the UK
panic sits in my chest
and waits for privacy
everyday i can feel
myself erasing
i want to live without tears
permanently resting in my eyes
watching for that moment when
all else turn away
waiting to be unseen
until then it bottles up
until then i swallow
Reach the light
Look at stars,
They are so far
I catch a shooting star
to burn fire
in my heart.

I know what I want
In me, someone
tryna be number 1 #
be the only one
great as the sun.
I know it's so hard
a pillar wish to fly,
the winds wants to find
where it belongs.
Nothing will be wrong
to follow what we love
And I'll be strong
to reach the light.
I haven't written a poem for long time
in life there're a lot of things to carry and I was kinda confused.
Walking  through a field of flowers
Where time stands still.
Where there is no yesterday nor tomorrow
A silent promise to fulfill.
Where there is no pain nor sorrow.
A soothing feel is all you
The hope to meet  you  here and always
Where peace begins and love   prevails.

Shell ✨🐚
Garden of love, a field were time stand stills.
Feeling innerpeace in the presence of love!
there’s a world that sits
from me apart
but i’m still in your arms
i think so anyway

and there are oceans and tides
that obey their lover’s shine
for when the moon is full
all her heart she gives to you

and the rain comes in waves
and i will bathe in it for days
but theres rays that flood in soft
and warm and gentle

your light pours through
and its beautiful
and i’m full of it
on days full of you
I’ve got my bleeding heart
It’s all crushed and torn apart
Like one wrecked train
Stuck and soaked in the rain

What can I do to end this pain?
It’s making me crazy, it’s driving me insane
Can’t find no one to blame
On my own, oh what a shame

Yes I’ve seen this coming
I just didn’t heed the warning
Too blinded by my love
Got knocked down with passion’s glove

Will I ever get back on track?
When pain just gave me one strong whack
The battle is over, the fight has ended
I’m down on my knees… defeated!
June 11, 2012 - 9:40AM
Jana Pelzom
It’s good that the Child has died,
For it wouldn’t have been very happy
With what the world has turned to be;
For it would be far harsh
A judgement to the innocent,
To live in this world of injustice;
It is good that we’re all adults now;
The sick, the miserable and the sad kind;
Thank mercy, the Children didn’t have to see,
For it would be torture to the young me,
And I deign it fit that I shall die
And go, if as books tell us,
And as centuries have lied,
To the hell destined for madness
And the terribly unworthy kind,
But there’ll be no children there,
And I’d be happy to know
The Child, at least, is safe
In the place where no adults
Shall ever be allowed inside.
It’s good ©️2021 Jana Pelzom
No matter what we become or how we have made the world or how much we hate ourselves, we were innocent once and that innocence is hopefully safe somewhere.
Theodora Oniceanu
Fae tricksy games
Fantasy trip deadly
haiku inspiration, Japanese poetry
Saïda Boūzazy
The colour of the  sky
The smell of the see
I Love your Smile  

The winter
The raindrops
The cold  
You are my favourite season
Short poem
is always a surprise
we bask in the glow
and we know
that millennia ago
people were doing the same
like us they gasped as the sky turn to flame
the way if affects us
connects us
Evan Stephens
Soft as poached yolk,
nightlights dot the Liffey -
you are a snow dream
in a black gallery.
Recasting of a poem from almost two years ago.
mal frost
she is!
and she's one of my best friends,
to risk it all or play it safe?
that is the question.
Dave Robertson
This simplest trick
this majesty of dropping a degree
or two
and changing water into happiness,
frozen fingers, cheeks like beacons
mittens heavy with sodden, laughing weight,
your daily haunts


and yes, the brown sludge days
will come, as always,
but for now the National Lampoon
sledge run past Tumnus
and the boxed delights
can have our hearts and minds
Mr Shankley
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
the apartment that I rent was on the second floor
on a hidden alley, somewhere in the center of Athens,
it was old, crooked, and chaotic,
the kind of place where you could
read Bukowski, listen to Tom Waits,
and nod your head.

and through the room's window, you could see
the dancefloor of a tango bar,
and couples would dance,
all night long, to romantic melodies

and beneath that bar, there was a door,
with a dim red light upon it
men would occasionally pop in  
while casting their eyes warily around

you could hear constant noises
coming from the corridors and the walls.
and the neighbors, they were faceless, absent,
and the buskers would play the blues,
and the policemen would sit down the corner
light up their cigarettes and laugh,
and the crowds would walk down that alley and mumble

and you would sit there,
deep in the night,
and you would find peace,
in this disharmony,
eventually becoming, a part of it
Richard Smith
Life is change
The seasons
The years
All you can do
Is change with them
Lives are taken
New lives are created
Mourning, rejoicing
An eternal conflict
That brings us all
To the inevitable
Jon York
Inside you

is where I want to



within the folds

of your mind


the sweet softness

of your soul,


as I release my love

deep within you.
                                     Jon York   2019.
The Lonely Poet
As I sit
With my back
To the locked door
So that you don't walk in on me.
But you can't escape from your own head.
The demons
They follow me
They need to destroy me.
And maybe
after you get out of my room
and out of my head
and out of my heart
and out of my life
after you're well and truly gone
then they can fix me again.
But you can't fix a window
that's shattered into a million pieces.
Even if everyone
Ian Dankowski
You talk down to me
unaware that your insults fall on deaf ears
you try your best to make me as insecure as you are
but I am proud of where I am
and I hope one day you can say the same.
Diksha Dhiman
Only communication is the real healer...
Dr Peter Lim
Sea of blue flowers
watched by silent cottages
early blush of spring
Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.
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
Strange, the Hellopoetry computer demanded I put two stars on this poem to repost it to the front page... But it was worth it, it’s been on here for over a year now, I appreciate it Elliot.

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
Thomas W Case
There's a little
boy that hides in
the dark corners of
my soul.
He doesn't want to
be hurt anymore.
I spent eight years
with Beth.
For the most part,
it was hell and
constant pain.
She made nightmares
look good.
I heard the
little boy cry
late into the
silky night,
while snails got
smashed on the streets
of Ventura.

When I drank, which was often,
the little boy seemed
at peace for awhile,
while swans were
murdered in Venice,
and I tasted the ashes
of Neruda.
Years flew by
like seagulls;
and darting.
The little boy
continued to
hide in the
dark corners of my soul.

He wanted to
come out and be loved.
He was thirsty for it,
but there wasn't
any around.
It was dry, like the
deserts in hell.
It's too late for
sorries, here comes
the plow.

He began to see
the pattern of life.
There are monsters
that walk in the light.
Vulnerability equals pain.
The little boy got mean.
And now he carries
a knife.
I search for my reflection
but it is here no longer.
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
I know you.
Sometimes you say things, expecting that I won’t understand, and I think it’s strange because
I know you.
That’s what this is. I know you,
And I want you,
And I care about you
Don’t want no one else.
You might not know me,
The stanchions you use to prop yourself up eating all that I have fed you,
In the darkness,
In the night,
But I know you.
And I want you anyway.
just a girl sitting next to the boy she likes
the noise of the world falls away
his quiet company wraps around her
offering a comfort and a peace

just a girl sitting next to the boy she likes
absorbing every word, every glance, every touch
just in case it is the last
no fairytales he once told her

just a girl sitting next to the boy she likes
wise enough to know it wont last forever  
yet still loves and gives unabashedly
because she is just a girl sitting next to the boy she likes
They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
It was an ugly face you turned on me
It was a heartbreak in secrecy...
j a connor
D  eliver

E  ach

S  oul

T  hrough

I  nevitable

N  atural

Y  earning
poisoned elixir
my heart twists
in misery and
agony and
these raw feelings
but today i realized
that the light is
still lit
flickering only a
long hallway away
yet 'tis still lit
it still survives
it's still HERE
the light did not
forsake me
not just yet
and it is that knowledge
that light
that is keeping this
dismal tide
at bay
rig f laurel
when i died the first time
inhaling an ocean
they said
this was not the plan
turn back.

and when i did
i tried to fly with no lessons
nor wings
and they called me

but i came round
and sought a chainsaw
and then a mermaid
and then death herself
i think she was

and each time
they said the same thing
over and over and over and over:
wrong destiny. wrong destiny.
go again.

the instructions are in a language i do not possess.
I poured myself
inside your cup
pretended to be tea
your lips pursed to the rim
burning kiss
bile churns
you forgot
I'm made of sins
Smothered Divine
I feel like my soul is looking at me,
Tutting and shaking its head.
Sam Lawrence
Snow arrived,
quite suddenly.
The city fell
to silence:
softness flurried,
whiteness spread.
Our footsteps
punched a rhythm:
crisp heel, crisp toe.
Steaming cars slid past
in slush, peeling back
the long black road.
The trees drooped:
tears splattered on
the streets, but
still my heart
lay cold.
I’ve worn funeral black every day
since the last time we spoke.
Don’t know what it was we broke.
There is a mourning happening.
A sunless grey. This vinyl
plays and plays
your face on some
unforetold replay.
I think to call you and
my tongue is scalded down with
atlas stones of pride. Thick with tar
no words arise. I put the phone away
and lock you back in
endless alleys of my mind.
It’s a battle to look forward
when footsteps know
what's left behind.
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