Kai - Hello Poetry

I was a Morning, once With windows in my eyes The sun came spilling quietly And filled me with surprise And breathing felt like wonder then And living felt like air I did not know I had a life I only knew I was there The voices started soft and low Then grew to crowd the light They told me what my glow should be Until it dimmed from sight My laughter learned to quiet down My wonder learned to wait The world that once was endless wide Began to narrow into fate And something in my windows changed No sudden break or cry But like a curtain drawn too soon Across a morning sky And now when light returns to me It lingers at the door As if it knows the child who shone Is living here no more

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Apr 26

Apr 26, 2026 at 3:17 AM UTC

Kai

I was a Morning, once

I was a Morning, once With windows in my eyes The sun came spilling quietly And filled me with surprise And breathing felt like wonder then And living felt like air I did not know I had a life I only knew I was there The voices started soft and low Then grew to crowd the light They told me what my glow should be Until it dimmed from sight My laughter learned to quiet down My wonder learned to wait The world that once was endless wide Began to narrow into fate And something in my windows changed No sudden break or cry But like a curtain drawn too soon Across a morning sky And now when light returns to me It lingers at the door As if it knows the child who shone Is living here no more

24

Sometimes Give the poems in your head Some rest. Don't write them on, Write them off. Internally arrange a funeral Bid them farewell Give them an unceremonious burial. The rising poem won't complain They know well your anguish and pain. The labour you go through birthing them Shape their body, give a name They would understand. Failed poems are not as arrogant As the birthed ones. They too are weary pounding your head Making holes in your soul They would rather rest than be born. Sometimes They deserve rest. Let them float away to a place Where they find peace And will not be missed.

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Kai

Aug 5, 2024

Aug 5, 2024 at 3:40 AM UTC

pradip-chattopadhyay

Write Off

Sometimes Give the poems in your head Some rest. Don't write them on, Write them off. Internally arrange a funeral Bid them farewell Give them an unceremonious burial. The rising poem won't complain They know well your anguish and pain. The labour you go through birthing them Shape their body, give a name They would understand. Failed poems are not as arrogant As the birthed ones. They too are weary pounding your head Making holes in your soul They would rather rest than be born. Sometimes They deserve rest. Let them float away to a place Where they find peace And will not be missed.

23

In an orchard where sunbeams weave through leaves like golden threads, I glimpsed her, a cherry blossom in white, where beauty gently spreads, Her presence, a delicate fragrance of vanilla, soft and true, With cheeks aglow like dawn’s first light, and ribbons kissed by dew. Her hands, with tender touch, reached for the fruit within her grasp, A dance of fingertips on ripened skins, a symphony of sweet and rasp, Each bite a quiet celebration, a whisper of nectar on her lips, While I, a distant fruit in another grove, felt my heart’s soft, aching rips. How I long for the cherry blossom, my heart entwined with distant dreams, To be a fruit she might someday yearn for, beneath the moon’s gentle beams, Yet, here I linger in the shadows, content to watch her close embrace, Hoping one day she might desire me, though I remain in a far-off place.

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Jul 21, 2024

Jul 21, 2024 at 10:52 PM UTC

Kai

The Cherry Blossom

In an orchard where sunbeams weave through leaves like golden threads, I glimpsed her, a cherry blossom in white, where beauty gently spreads, Her presence, a delicate fragrance of vanilla, soft and true, With cheeks aglow like dawn’s first light, and ribbons kissed by dew. Her hands, with tender touch, reached for the fruit within her grasp, A dance of fingertips on ripened skins, a symphony of sweet and rasp, Each bite a quiet celebration, a whisper of nectar on her lips, While I, a distant fruit in another grove, felt my heart’s soft, aching rips. How I long for the cherry blossom, my heart entwined with distant dreams, To be a fruit she might someday yearn for, beneath the moon’s gentle beams, Yet, here I linger in the shadows, content to watch her close embrace, Hoping one day she might desire me, though I remain in a far-off place.

12

Sometimes lying in my bed I close my eyes and imagine myself back there again Back in my old childhood room, in my old childhood bed I can see the green nightlight shining on the wall See the dark outlines of the wardrobe and the dressing table The moonlight coming in through the window From the street below I hear a lone car passing You can hear it coming, then arriving, then gradually fading away into the distance Then the silence returns I lie there in the quiet Then suddenly…suddenly I find myself…I find myself rising Like out of my body, rising up toward the ceiling I can look back down and see my physical body still lying there on the bed Then I turn and I fly right out the window Suddenly I’m outside and I’m free It’s dark now, a world devoid of colours, a world transformed, a World of shadows With the big moon shining over the bay The flowers in the front, their petals closed…drooping Their all sleeping now, grown colourless in the pale moonlight I fly over the shrubs and the flowers, fly over the wall and the front gate The coast road it is so quiet now, not a sound of a car Or sight of any soul out walking It’s late… So ghostly in the quiet, the outline of the other houses along the street Just like faces sleeping I fly over the road and over the sea wall, down the steps to the beach All the sand and the little shells and stones And the big rocks just standing there so still and so quiet Almost like their watching me or waiting on me As if…as if questioning I look over at the big mountains of the headland in the far distance sloping down toward the sea Their great big dark outlines dotted with little lights from all the isolated farms and villages And there at the very end, the lighthouse, it’s red light winking back at me at intervals All under a beautiful star laden sky It’s wonderful, magical looking ! It reminds me of Christmas…the lights at Christmastime. I fly over the big rocks and the rock pools Wow! Look now, the sea! The tide!! The tide is coming in Like a huge…great army moving stealthily under cover of darkness Stretching the whole way as far as you can see Inching its way along, the water filling the little grooves in the sand Wow! Just looking at it, watching it, it’s awesome! It’s mesmerising!! Soon it’ll be joining the rock pools It’ll be like an army pouring into a city The water level will rise slowly And all the sea creatures will start to come out, the ***** the eels and the fish It’ll all come alive. So I fly over the silent standing rocks and the strand and the tide that’s coming in heading up toward the village I pass an open stretch of beach with hardly any rocks This is where the young families would come The mothers with their little children to swim and play But it’s so quiet now…so quiet and desolate…lonely looking Now the children have all gone Now there’s only the memory…the echo Yea! Now there’s only the sound of the ghost children playing, splashing about Their excited voices still ringing in the air…somewhere Once as a child I walked these same beaches I knew every rock But strangely I can hardly remember myself now That child I once was I feel somehow that he left me…left me a long time ago Old friend we knew each other once, why has your memory faded away from me Have I changed so much Do you not know me now or trust me Am I too scary for you to look at or talk to Have I sided too much with this world, a world that once used scare and pain you so You and I, we have wandered far from our old toys Were forced to play more different grown up games Had to adopt many guises, wear many different masks All those things I had to do and those different people I had to become Just to survive here Yea! This world it blew us onto many a strange shore, And now, returning…like an old man from the sea Weathered and half broken, still with little of any worth to show Tell me…tell me you haven’t left me…left us That you haven't abandoned us Take us with you, we’d rather go with you than stay in this…this empty place With you there was always wonder, there was always magic…every day It was always more fun when you were around …we miss you, where did you go Old Friend ? I fly on, there’s the old swimming pool All quiet now, hushed, silent, not a sound So ghostly, no laughter, no splashing about, no shouts of delight The night how it offers a contrast to the day This ghostly world of stillness and of quiet Of shadows and memories and lost things And I like a ghost just wandering here The daylight world remembered from afar as the dead might remember the living. I fly on over the swimming pool Now I see the village itself, the street lights and the lights from the pubs still open A few people out walking along the seafront Husbands and wives perhaps…young lovers Y’know I can remember this beach thronged with sunbathers in the summertime All the colour and the noises I can…I can remember the wild days, the stormy seas lashing the shore Remember the high winds buffeting the house at night I can remember the high tides when the sea would come right up to the steps Would swamp all the big rocks All you could see was this huge massive blanket of just blue sea everywhere And in the Winter time I can remember the snow on the rocks The snow over everything, so white and clean and fresh, all fresh in the frosty air And I remember the tranquil Summer evenings, the waves gently lapping up against the shore Lulling you off to some sweet dream...or dreams faraway. When I was young I didn’t know what this world was and why I was here And now, I still don’t know, I’m none the wiser But wherever I go, I know there’ll always be the sea… It’s a part of me…these memories, these things I’ve seen Wherever I find myself, in the heart of a grey city or out in the green countryside There’ll always be that…that seaside village Yea! There’ll always be the sea. I grew up in a seaside village…a seaside village One time long ago.

0

Kai

Jun 24, 2024

Jun 24, 2024 at 8:26 AM UTC

bardo

Evening Meditation (Night Song)

Sometimes lying in my bed I close my eyes and imagine myself back there again Back in my old childhood room, in my old childhood bed I can see the green nightlight shining on the wall See the dark outlines of the wardrobe and the dressing table The moonlight coming in through the window From the street below I hear a lone car passing You can hear it coming, then arriving, then gradually fading away into the distance Then the silence returns I lie there in the quiet Then suddenly…suddenly I find myself…I find myself rising Like out of my body, rising up toward the ceiling I can look back down and see my physical body still lying there on the bed Then I turn and I fly right out the window Suddenly I’m outside and I’m free It’s dark now, a world devoid of colours, a world transformed, a World of shadows With the big moon shining over the bay The flowers in the front, their petals closed…drooping Their all sleeping now, grown colourless in the pale moonlight I fly over the shrubs and the flowers, fly over the wall and the front gate The coast road it is so quiet now, not a sound of a car Or sight of any soul out walking It’s late… So ghostly in the quiet, the outline of the other houses along the street Just like faces sleeping I fly over the road and over the sea wall, down the steps to the beach All the sand and the little shells and stones And the big rocks just standing there so still and so quiet Almost like their watching me or waiting on me As if…as if questioning I look over at the big mountains of the headland in the far distance sloping down toward the sea Their great big dark outlines dotted with little lights from all the isolated farms and villages And there at the very end, the lighthouse, it’s red light winking back at me at intervals All under a beautiful star laden sky It’s wonderful, magical looking ! It reminds me of Christmas…the lights at Christmastime. I fly over the big rocks and the rock pools Wow! Look now, the sea! The tide!! The tide is coming in Like a huge…great army moving stealthily under cover of darkness Stretching the whole way as far as you can see Inching its way along, the water filling the little grooves in the sand Wow! Just looking at it, watching it, it’s awesome! It’s mesmerising!! Soon it’ll be joining the rock pools It’ll be like an army pouring into a city The water level will rise slowly And all the sea creatures will start to come out, the ***** the eels and the fish It’ll all come alive. So I fly over the silent standing rocks and the strand and the tide that’s coming in heading up toward the village I pass an open stretch of beach with hardly any rocks This is where the young families would come The mothers with their little children to swim and play But it’s so quiet now…so quiet and desolate…lonely looking Now the children have all gone Now there’s only the memory…the echo Yea! Now there’s only the sound of the ghost children playing, splashing about Their excited voices still ringing in the air…somewhere Once as a child I walked these same beaches I knew every rock But strangely I can hardly remember myself now That child I once was I feel somehow that he left me…left me a long time ago Old friend we knew each other once, why has your memory faded away from me Have I changed so much Do you not know me now or trust me Am I too scary for you to look at or talk to Have I sided too much with this world, a world that once used scare and pain you so You and I, we have wandered far from our old toys Were forced to play more different grown up games Had to adopt many guises, wear many different masks All those things I had to do and those different people I had to become Just to survive here Yea! This world it blew us onto many a strange shore, And now, returning…like an old man from the sea Weathered and half broken, still with little of any worth to show Tell me…tell me you haven’t left me…left us That you haven't abandoned us Take us with you, we’d rather go with you than stay in this…this empty place With you there was always wonder, there was always magic…every day It was always more fun when you were around …we miss you, where did you go Old Friend ? I fly on, there’s the old swimming pool All quiet now, hushed, silent, not a sound So ghostly, no laughter, no splashing about, no shouts of delight The night how it offers a contrast to the day This ghostly world of stillness and of quiet Of shadows and memories and lost things And I like a ghost just wandering here The daylight world remembered from afar as the dead might remember the living. I fly on over the swimming pool Now I see the village itself, the street lights and the lights from the pubs still open A few people out walking along the seafront Husbands and wives perhaps…young lovers Y’know I can remember this beach thronged with sunbathers in the summertime All the colour and the noises I can…I can remember the wild days, the stormy seas lashing the shore Remember the high winds buffeting the house at night I can remember the high tides when the sea would come right up to the steps Would swamp all the big rocks All you could see was this huge massive blanket of just blue sea everywhere And in the Winter time I can remember the snow on the rocks The snow over everything, so white and clean and fresh, all fresh in the frosty air And I remember the tranquil Summer evenings, the waves gently lapping up against the shore Lulling you off to some sweet dream...or dreams faraway. When I was young I didn’t know what this world was and why I was here And now, I still don’t know, I’m none the wiser But wherever I go, I know there’ll always be the sea… It’s a part of me…these memories, these things I’ve seen Wherever I find myself, in the heart of a grey city or out in the green countryside There’ll always be that…that seaside village Yea! There’ll always be the sea. I grew up in a seaside village…a seaside village One time long ago.

110

How I long for a slow life, where moments drift like dandelion seeds, Each whisper of time a soft sigh in the stillness of quiet meads. No hurried footsteps disturb the hush, no frantic rush nor urgent needs, Just the gentle cadence of twilight's breeze, where soul and silence intercede. In the attic of my thoughts, where shadows dance and secrets dwell, I weave dreams with threads of moonlight, in a solitary, enchanted spell. Away from the clamor of worldly strife, where tolling bells no longer compel, Here, solitude sings its sweet refrain, in echoes only the heart can tell. Oh, to linger in the hush of dusk, where the day's harsh edges soften, To dwell in the embrace of words unsaid, where dreams and whispers often Conspire to paint the canvas of time, in hues of amber and saffron, In this quiet sanctuary of the soul, where peace reigns sovereign.

0

Jun 21, 2024

Jun 21, 2024 at 4:05 AM UTC

Kai

How I Long for a Slow Life

How I long for a slow life, where moments drift like dandelion seeds, Each whisper of time a soft sigh in the stillness of quiet meads. No hurried footsteps disturb the hush, no frantic rush nor urgent needs, Just the gentle cadence of twilight's breeze, where soul and silence intercede. In the attic of my thoughts, where shadows dance and secrets dwell, I weave dreams with threads of moonlight, in a solitary, enchanted spell. Away from the clamor of worldly strife, where tolling bells no longer compel, Here, solitude sings its sweet refrain, in echoes only the heart can tell. Oh, to linger in the hush of dusk, where the day's harsh edges soften, To dwell in the embrace of words unsaid, where dreams and whispers often Conspire to paint the canvas of time, in hues of amber and saffron, In this quiet sanctuary of the soul, where peace reigns sovereign.

12