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 972° 
Flowery skies

Sometimes i just get really sad,
No reason,
I just did.

It started burst me into crying,
I felt really hurt inside my chest,

And at that time i realized,
I am not alone,
I am lonely,
Even though i surrounded
by bunch of people,

My heart just felt so empty,
Like i just lost something or someone
I don't know,
I don't know what it is nor who it is.

 513° 
destiney dawn

People always tell you to "face your fears"

And everyday that our hands collide,
You hug me close to your chest so tight I can smell nothing but your expensive cologne I got you for Christmas,
Trusting you with my laughs,
My honesty,
My love.

It's the biggest thing I'm scared of because loving  you is my greatest fear. How do you know you are driving off the cliff on a foggy morning? You fall.

And now I feel like I'm falling so abruptly, and I won't be able to get up.

Cause when you finally break my heart I won't even have enough heart to tell myself " i   T  o  l d    Y  o   U  S   O "

 334° 
Asby

Now, just now I know that I'm lonely because you're away from me

You, about you, about me is about you and I'll repeat the same verses over and over and over again until you're back to me

'Love' is the word I really need so all of these affections need a place where to go

'Love' is the word I really need so please will you come back and kiss on my cheek.

Please, stay by my side.

 280° 
Clyde

I never knew my father
All I have are photos
the name I was told that belonged to him
and nothing more, nothing less.

I yearned to know him, but I couldn't
Life didn't provide me with the opportunity
to do so and yet, even as I grow old,
I know that it was a bridge that I needed to burn
One which I know I can't go back from.

And yet, in a way, I know him
I see him in myself and
as I let go of what was
and could have been
I slowly remember him
the efforts he gave
his gentle touch
that he tried to care
that he tried to love
but still, it wasn't enough

All I have now are these new
repressed memories
from where they come from
I don't know
and I don't know
if they're real or not

But sadly,
I hold onto these memories
because that's all I have
of him.

I met a man yesterday.
He said something about eagles in Thailand.
and how your first love has a 90% chance of betraying you.

"tell me something I don't know"
"you're weird."
"tell me something I don't know"
"what happened to your eyes?"
"what happened to my eyes?"
"they don't have depth"

"tell me something I don't know"

he told me again that there's a 90% chance your first love will betray you.
I looked at this bright-eyed man and thought he doesn't know anything about me.
And I was struck by the colors of his eyes.
It's amber.
four or maybe six different shades of amber.

It's the color of autumn in New England,
It's the color of fire that's not too hot nor too bland.
It's the color of sunset in the Grand Canyon.
It's the color of the words, "Welcome home."

"There's a 90% chance that your first love will betray you."

My eyes are burning.

"But there's a 100% chance that it will get better."

My hands are shaking.

"All you have to do is let him go."

seven years.
goddammit.

"Put an end to everything that hurts."

 250° 
Blindly Certain

Drip, drip, dripping.

Such that of a broken faucet.

Twisted in all directions,

Hoping that the flow would stop.

Yet;

It lessens, but never ceases.

Time shall come,

When the faucet reaches its breaking point,

It'll all pour out.

Flooding;

Drowning;

Drip, drip, dripping.

 217° 
Dorian

It’s a funny thing
Watching life fly
Mobile phones ring
Stress levels are high
Virtues mislaid
Luxuries are bought
Empty parts played
Vacuous lessons taught.
Rewind back a few
Survival was key
Every day was new
We could truly see.
Why do we concede?
To a superficial norm.
Blinded by greed.
Taking a hideous form!

Materialism has poisoned our world.
 214° 
leolewin

Crystal blue eyes,
They remind me of the ocean.

As beautiful and limitless, as breathtaking and devastating.

To set sail is a death wish,
and to never try is a regret.

 209° 
Hasan Aspahani

THE WORLD is an office asking for your sweat. Before lunch. Officeboy turns off the aircon. Stuck in line in front of the teller. Number is empty, on bank account.

This world is a city asking for your blood. An old friend who grew into someone who was getting less and less understandable. A monster that feeds on its own body parts.

 173° 
Kim Elaydo

as the flower bloomed
brighter days were promised
in love letters and hopeful kisses
everything…

everything fell in to place
because finally
we made and experienced
something so beautiful
so pure
so lovely

as it grew — matured
we thought of futures
our jaded happy minds
longed to embrace

but as the flower wilted
we turn back to the time it bloomed
forgetting to take out the weed
neglecting its need of water
asking what ifs
losing trust

we failed to realise

that its destroy

did not start when it bloomed

it started when we first planted it

and then we realised

it was planted on toxic soil

we began to realise,

it was never beautiful in the first place

i know, blasphemy to poetry for no punctuations. just stop. im just really really hurt right now
 162° 
Krishna Paras
H.

How does everytime
You write
I feel fright
Your words
Always circling in my mind

I hate
That my heart is at stake
But again,
I couldn't repent

My invested feelings for years
Built up fears
Not reaching you
Crushes me within

Are we the same?
Do you also feel that?
In my life you came
So you made me pain

When will I get over him, seriously?
 153° 
Hannah Rogers

when i hear the word home
i dont think of a brick house
or the furniture that lie inside
i think of my sisters and my mom
i think of my cat waiting behind the door
i think of poem book in my purse
i think of my best friend
i think of my young renegade jacket
i think of my collection of concert tickets
when i think of home
i think of the people and things that make me happiest
i think of the things that connect to my favorite memories
i connect home to comfort and happiness
i dont connect it with brick walls and broken furniture
it may bring safety but it doesnt bring me joy
and home to me means joy

truly what the word home means to me
 144° 
Madhura

So I keep falling
Into the similar patterns
Leading myself to sombre nights
I follow those mirages
On the highway to hell
Where all but love
Is catered

I am just weaving myself
Every paradigm of your being
Into sand castles of fantasy
Losing count of
Right from wrong
And reality from make-believe.

 139° 
Ghazal

When you're born out of a broken marriage,
You unwittingly become part of it,
No one asked you if you wanted to,
Yet you mediate,
As you grow, you participate,
You cease to be a child very soon,
You are the third spouse who entered
Way after the honeymoon,
You live with the everyday-fear of this
Arrangement falling apart,
You don't know why you're saving it,
Despite it being toxic to all three minds and hearts,
But, as if you were born for just that purpose,
You strive for it everyday,
You take sides everyday,
Being a successful last straw
Is your daily pretend-play,
And suppressed resentment, your best friend,
Those born out of a broken marriage will know,
Having a loving father and a loving mother
Is not the same as having a family where
Everyone loves each other.

 134° 
Jessie Latham

the trees perform
in the soft denim light
& my handwriting
could stand to
be prettier
but I am drunk on
sadness
& lack of fortune

I feel you in
the air
for once I confirm
I am not alone
although I goddamn
am

will it blend?
will it
mend?

the only two stars
remaining
helped me to
believe it
may

 114° 
Fritzi Melendez

I'll do something stupid, like fall in love with you and stuff

Until one day you realize that it wont be enough

I wont be enough for you.

And I will cry and tear apart my room.

And the dark days will begin to loom.

And I will begin to lose myself in this mentality to.

Overthinking shower thoughts about myself and how I must be at fault with everything that has happened.
 109° 
Malak S

Dear Self,
It's a lot lonelier at night.
It's a nightmare ready to unfold and I'm gripping my bed sheets hoping I don't wake up in yet another cold sweat.
The void in my chest seems to grow as I look for something that makes sense.
The words used to hold me as I wept and now,
They stand at arms length and allow me to hold myself.
They watch as the tears fall across my cheeks and they question how much sadness can a person hold.
How much sadness until all you feel is nothing, but hollowness.
Hollowness that resembles a field of grass burned to ash.

 103° 
Angstrom

I want to kiss the nape of your neck
Follow the treasure trail to the Cape of regret
Be lost in your hair without any cares
Their tendrils of longing caress
Carried along by the rhythm of eternal tides
Floating in that ocean of dreams
My siren sings to me
Bringing visions of you in time and space
The  smile on your face
The way you taste
The smell of your breath
Almost angelic
Your essences washes away my fears
Scudding along on a surfboard of cares
I can do without.

I am honored this piece was chosen as the Daily!! Thank you fellow poets and poetesses for your encouragement!!'
 94° 
chrissy

you don't know what my handwriting looks like
i don't know what your yawn sounds like
you don't know my reaction to the end of my favourite film
i don't know your reaction to eating your favourite meal

i don't know what your hand feels like
and you don't know what mine feels like
we may not know everything
but we are still in love

 89° 
Catlynn

Do you realize what you do? Whenever you delete one of us?

You use minutes of your life to write us up, Isn't that such a bust?

We wait around patiently in your drafts, possibly abandoned or alone

Hoping for that day where we will be finished and complete, your profile would be our home!

But there was something about us that you didn't like

Instead of revising and editing, you clicked "DELETE". You gave up the fight!

Change us! Revive us! Turn us into something that will please you!

Afraid of what people may think of us? Then allow us to seal their lips like glue!

We will be whatever you want us to be, but PLEASE give us a chance!

Are you a coward? Are you too lazy? You have everything you need in advance!

Don't let us go so quickly! Please don't put us to shame!

Or do you only see us as empty words with no meaning on a blank white page....

Here is a Challenge I want all of you to take on
Take a Poem that you Deleted, you thought that was gone
Post in the comments and see what will happen
Let's see how many complements you can gain, let this begin!
Edit it to your hearts desire
Let's see if this Poem can grow on FIRE!!!!
 80° 
Nadia DeLevea

You're blind when you see me,
I'm on my knees and broken.
I remind you who I really am,
Remember these words I've spoken.

Unshakable you see me,
You see me standing tall.
Like a statue made of stone,
You see a rock who'll never fall.

Unbreakable you see me,
You see me effortlessly bold.
Like the stars will always shine,
You see power you think I hold.

Unstoppable you see me,
You see me fighting without fear.
Like relentless worriers conquer,
You see a hero who never sheds a tear.

I make my strength shine bright,
Shine to cover up my weakness.
You can't see past my Confidence,
You refuse to see me my meekness

Even stone can't stand forever,
The world will beat it down.  
I remind you I'm only human,
The world can make me drown.

Even stars can't shine so bright,
So bright to shine through the clouds.
I remind you I'm just another face,
Another face in amongst the crowds.

Even heroes can't withstand all,
Hold the weight of the world alone.
I remind you I can't hold on forever,
Excessive trials will break my backbone.

I refuse to let you believe,
Believe who you see is perfect.
A pedestal I don't deserve,
And don't EVER say I'm worth it.

Unrealistic Expectations™  By Nadia DeLevea
 73° 
Journey of Days

I can see
it bloom
so hard
but worth it

@journeyofdays

I  would never wish this experience on anyone

further down the track of time there are some amazing things that have happened to me and  I have had the privilege of meeting some of the most beautiful, strong and inspirational people ...bloom
 71° 
cosmo naught

you thought it all was real
like we were,
didn't you?
now the world's a bad trip—
like a page from your
sick hero's handbook,
without the lie—
with no connection.
you thought it all was real.
what's worse is i did too.

 60° 
Jade

The nights are cold
The roads are rough
But tremble not
You know you're tough
The fact you've put in effort is enough
It's ok to sit back, enjoy, and laugh

The nights are long
The journey gets tough
You brace yourself
Enough, you think, is enough
You put your foot down
And stomp real hard
You've come this far
They'll just have to let you pass

 56° 
Rachel

THEY SAID
SHE WAS BLIND
— ED by the virility in his skin,
lit and scorched by Midas himself

THAT
SHE CHOKED
on his nobility,
plumes of swindled words,
even though what she saw was
pure sweetness of a plum

carved and full, heavy
all light and divinity
glorious soul from the Heaven's
tied to hers

though at the end of the day
what she came to understand was
— THEY WERE RIGHT

BECAUSE YOU LIED
STUBBORN RESISTANT ME ALL ROSE-TINTED AND POLISHED
YOU
MY BONES MOANED AND SHOOK
PETRIFIED
TO REACH OUT
TO SEARCH FOR —
ANYTHING, SOMETHING!

It astonishes me how I once let you touch my skin.

 55° 
Poetic T

I have no paper but
my mind is like sand.

Where other thoughts
erode the original with
graffiti of useless anythings

I have no paper but i'll
hang on to this piece till
my mind doodles over it again.

 54° 
Bob B

Kellyanne Conjob rushed to defend
Trump's penchant for telling lies.
The repercussions of his untruths
She smilingly tried to minimize.

Her brazenly obnoxious comments
Simply add fuel to the fire
And diminish her credibility
When she bolsters the words of a liar.

Excusing impropriety
Is clearly what she's doing, and yet her
Remarks make him sound foolish when
She says he doesn't know any better.

According to Kellyanne's logic here--
And give her a D minus for trying--
Trump is not telling untruths
If he doesn't believe he is lying.

- by Bob B (7-26-17)

 48° 
Makayla Shea

I want to cry
My eyes are holding back the tears
As I read all the emotions
As I see all this hurt
I know so many people who hurt
And who ache
And this kills me
This world is so broken
And no one is untouchable
It kills me
Watching as innocent people
Get used
By other people
Who themselves used to be innocent
Until the day wen they were used
And its an endless cycle
Of hurt people
Turning around and hurting more
This endless cycle of pain
So many people screaming that they just want to be loved
And every piece of me
Is dying to scream at them
How much I love them all
But I've done that to some
And im afraid iv only caused more pain
So I'm stuck unable to help
Only able to pray
But the brokenness
Is eating away
And each day
They get more broken
And closer to ending it all
And I know that pain
All too well
That's why I want to help
Because I wouldn't wish my misery on anyone
And I want so desperately to protect them all
But I'm so weak
And there's really nothing I can do
So I sit back and watch this pain and watch this misery
And all I can do is cry out to God to hear these people
And to see the pain
And I feel so helpless
But I know that alone
Is better than anything else I could do

So many people are hurting. And I don't think most people see the pain of everyone around them. They seem to think no one has it as bad as they do. But just because the pain is hidden doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
 44° 
Alexa

I don't know
how I feel.

It's hard
to put a label
on what
I don't know.

So, I'll remain here
sitting
contemplating
and
crying

all over you.

 43° 
Ben Noah Suri

We are all living on borrowed time
and without realizing the debt we owe
we consider our lives are just fine
and gamble with what we do not own.
Whether wealthy and rich or in penury poor,
wise and educated or illiterate and uneducated,
refined and cultured or crude as a boor,
in battles victorious or in life frustrated,
perpetually happy or always sad,
with outlook positive or thoughts so negative,
whether sincere and loyal or just a cad,
whether artistic and talented or not so creative,
ultimately we are all wasting our life.
Though we chase pursuits which are mere mirages
and feel happy to be blessed with life
yet, we are all God’s reflected images.
Reflected images living on borrowed light
pompous in our lack of understanding.
On borrowed time we continue to shine bright
until the Sun goes down in the evening
and like a candle snuffed out in the wind
our overdrawn borrowed time doth end...

 43° 
Nat Lipstadt

Hello Poetry


Yearned.
Ached.
For so long, for a community,
That values the ineffable wonder
Of a wordsmith's creations, intended to
Repair himself and the world with bullets of
Verses.

And here you are.

Like/Dislike, matters not,
So long as we value each others work,
And the the heart echoes within
What the eyes read and the mouth whispers.

The array and disparity of your names,
A delight,
Each name a poem
In its own right.

So I resubmit a question for your consideration,
The answer is now known,
The answer is all of us.
May 2013
---------------------------------------------------------


­Who's Who In Poetry  



T'is a curious thing,
these verbal peddlers, tribal members,
famously well known to no one,
perhaps at best,
a kindred few, fellow-travelers.

Each a troop,
bloodied, purple hearted,
word-wounded,
anonymous unto each other,
yet all bonded intimates,
in solitary struggle united,
yet sea-parted by the very nature
of the solitude of composition.

All poets are Cain scar-marked,
purposed for everyone to see,
a warning to rabbled boors,
imagination suppressors!

World:

cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's division.

Poets!

Be the harpooners
of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody,
comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy
to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders
into crinkly eye-lined smilers.

With clinical observation,
dense and demanding,
make us laugh at
the comedy of our situation,
teach us our free-to-see peep show,
reveal, unseal us
with tart empathy!

For who's who in poetry
is all of us!
saviors and failures,
recorders and decoders,
night writers of the oohs and aahs
of dreams and nightmares.

When this poet cannot,
no longer, anymore,
tastes his poems upon your lips,
keep your poems within his heart,
then he breathes no more,
and becomes one who was,
yet is,
because of you,
in poetry.
---------------
Postscript (1/25/17)

Even more true today, than four years ago.
Thank You.

a revised, minor modestly different, version was published in Feb 2016 as
Orphans and Poets, Peddlers & Members https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1564122/orphans-and-poets-peddlers-members/


and then finally another different variant, more personal was published in
Aug 2016 as
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1734088/the-harpooner-of-the-unexamined-life


the harpooner of the unexamined life

"Be the harpooner of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."

writ many years past, just another dusted off phrasing,
composed from life's lecture notes, collected by eyes tired
from the hazing,
eyes wearied by the addict-strong,
incessant observational needing,
of celebrating the loopy,
they who make this planet
capable of laughing at itself,
a helping habit for mutual survival...

should you spot a man ungainly wrought,
weighted down by a harpoon cross
cursed  'pon his Cain-marked back,
you need not move to the other side,
'tis only a make-believe poet,
with his recording device,
seizing your rhapsodies to rhyme,
his collected artifacts, your crinkly smiles,
his meat, his metier, his chosen career,
a comfort caresser of your illusions into
a shapely sculpture of words for you to keep,
a token of your now examined worth,
a celebration for the keeping...
___________-

special thanks to those who rediscovered these poems recently and brought them back to me for refreshing cherishing these old word friends.
 39° 
Kris

You can't hide truth in the eyes,
they are too clear, too open,
like glass-paned windows.

Too vulnerable.

~~~

When you were turned towards me that night,
(moments before you walked away), reassuring me that
nothing had changed, that you weren't going anywhere.

I almost believed you.

Even when I had felt the difference in your speech,
words hand-picked and spoken with the intent to convince--
an unfamiliar tongue you had never used with me before.

Still, I almost believed you.

Right until I look up into your eyes and noticed--
distinctly perceived--the difference in the tides of your iris,
the pattern disturbed by the truth that had penetrated it.

Your eyes suddenly became foreign to me.

Unrecognizable; and yet I could now see into them clearly;
and I could see through them, as through a window;
they closed to conceal, long-lashed shades drawn.

But in vain--the glass had already been shattered.

I'm a girl
who climbed mountains
and when i reached the top
no one praised me
no one knew
the pain of the sting
on my heart

I'm a girl
who has loved and who has lost
who has given and not received
who wanted and never got
who blew her shot
at her dreams
because of the things she had to survive.
sometimes it's too bitter
to swallow.

I'm a girl who loves the moon.
I'm a girl who grew up too soon.
I'm a girl who was used for lust.
And a girl who now has no trust.

I'm a mess
a butterfly who flies back
to her cocoon
because she feels like a worm inside
small and scared
and just doesnt want to again be tried
her body is hers and hers alone
this she repeats
as she relives it again

 34° 
Anastasia

Naked and alone
I keep myself here
Where he placed me
So long ago

I'm keeping myself here
Because it feels like it's the
only thing I've ever known
The one thing he silently
taught me through his actions

I can't seem to undo
all that he did
Emotionally and
psychologically
He trapped me
within myself

What will it take for
me to feel free
What will it take for
me to just give in

Why did he have
to hurt me

 34° 
SøułSurvivør

Thirteen roses in a row
Red rain falls,
Don't you know
Down the window
Pain it goes
In the gutters
Through the nose
Where's the thunder
When it flows...?

(Chorus)
Wrapped around
The gauze that's stained
What difference snow?
The same as pain
When it melts
It's just rain.


Withered flowers.
Falling leaves.
It's a howling in the eaves
It's the cult the
Maimed believe
No one cares.
No one grieves.
Cover up.
Long jeans & sleeves.

Razors are a water slide
On track like
A carny ride
Over arms & over thighs
Release all
The pain inside

(Chorus)

It's an ocean
Where we sail
A coin that can be
Heads or tails
A lover's letter,
Or junk mail
A piece of garbage.
Holy grail.

(Chorus)


SøułSurvivør
(C) 7/23/2017

This song I REALLY want to release. Cutting is a terrible epidemic in our young people. It has almost replaced street drugs as the scourge of youth...
 31° 
Rand

Dear depression
I'm writing to let you know
That I don't have anything else to give
You took away all my hope

What more do you want of me
The few breaths that I take?
They're not even for me I swear
I just don't want them to break
The ones who still care about me
Somehow you weren't able to push them away
I guess they're stronger than I'll ever be
But I don't want you to make them ache

Hurt me bruise me take my soul
But let my body here
For them , not me , I'm miserable at my best
But I can't let them live in fear

Dear depression
Please subside
We can live together
Just don't make me die

 31° 
Francie Lynch

I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A place to run out of rain,
With wooden steps for deliveries,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters defying death,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.

Thank you all very much for your thoughtful, insightful and kind comments. It's a wonderful surprise and honor to be chosen for the daily, as there are so many damn good poems written by the poets here every day. And especially a sleeper like "I Will Age." I guess it's a lesson to be learned. Thanks again to everyone, and especially to Hello Poetry for giving us this marvelous opportunity to publish.
Peace to All.
Francie

Creatures of the deep,
Lurk the bottom of the sea,
Scare me less than you.

@LadyofRavenhill 2017
Haiku #35
 30° 
Anne Molony

you know the look
the look
when you feel eyes on the side of your face
but you're not completely sure
so you turn
instantly catching them
looking
their addictive
ice blue eyes
staring
and then quickly they're gone
looking somewhere else
like the floor or  
out the window or
pretending to be deep in thought
but
you know that they've been looking
because you've caught them twice before

 30° 
Sophia Hilger

green was never my color
yet you dipped your brush in the bright paint
and streaked it down my cheeks
you took me in your hands
and changed my shaped
painting over my too-round cheeks
and my splotchy skin
when i tried to wipe it off
my face came off with the green paint
leaving me an empty nothing
with bright green painted hands
i finally represent how i feel inside
but you don't like it when i dip my fingers
in a colorful paint
and drag it along my cheek
even though pink was my color all along

 29° 
Emily Grace

she's got a broken smile
for a broken heart
she likes to hope
her brokenness
is a work of art
lost in herself
she cannot breathe
around him, around her.
too many people
who aren't falling apart.
a broken smile
with a broken heart
her father says
she's a work of art

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