Ken_Voltaire - Hello Poetry

Back to the country, To the careful hills, Gentle ponds and weeping clouds. Where trees tell tales, Saturated with knowledge and wisdom, And the lilies grow bright there too. Back where time has little consequence, Where hours melt and obliterate, Where it does not matter. There is a stream, With brush skirting the banks, So tall it stoops over, And drinks from the cool water. There are birds that chant, Rhythmically, beautifully, Beckoning to unfound lovers, A dream in motion and song. There, in the country, Great Gods rumble below the earth, Rearranging the mighty furniture of the landscape, So carefully that it is hard to notice, Yet so dramatically that only a fool could not tell. In this country, one may find peace, Through the washing of the water, The knowledge of the trees, And the love of the birds, Tender yet unrelenting.

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Dec 5, 2019

Dec 5, 2019 at 8:15 PM UTC

A Place To Which I Shall Return

Back to the country, To the careful hills, Gentle ponds and weeping clouds. Where trees tell tales, Saturated with knowledge and wisdom, And the lilies grow bright there too. Back where time has little consequence, Where hours melt and obliterate, Where it does not matter. There is a stream, With brush skirting the banks, So tall it stoops over, And drinks from the cool water. There are birds that chant, Rhythmically, beautifully, Beckoning to unfound lovers, A dream in motion and song. There, in the country, Great Gods rumble below the earth, Rearranging the mighty furniture of the landscape, So carefully that it is hard to notice, Yet so dramatically that only a fool could not tell. In this country, one may find peace, Through the washing of the water, The knowledge of the trees, And the love of the birds, Tender yet unrelenting.

27

Welcome! The great abyss, The depth of sub-feeling, Despair Has nary a ceiling, The space that quells light, The great beast that lurks in Corners, timid but growing steady, Ready to lunge at your swollen throat, Welcome you, most humbly. Plenty of good fun to be had, yes, No need to quiver, nor shiver nor shriek, Won't you reply? Listen well, Heathen, Then speak! "I haven't a way to reply, As it seems my mouth has gone, Perhaps you could help me, sir? I have travelled through the long dark, Tarried little and fought hard, though I know not where I am, For all that I see is bleak, colourless, And without life. Without shape in fact, even You, who speaks in dark riddles, Seemingly a bearer of poor news, Have no shape whatsoever. Perhaps you could help me, sir?" Lo! You do not know? Oh! This is good fun, To be the bearer, The carrier eternal, of This so-called poor news. Many similar passages I have borne, In ages past. Time has wrought, Anguish ridden, crestfallen, Severe souls, And they are delivered! Like a crane to a chimney, Time brings great gifts to my halls. Listen here now, heathen, And listen well, For your everlasting fate, That which you deserve, Is here In the depths of hell.

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Nov 11, 2019

Nov 11, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC

The Wearisome Traveller and the Invisible Man

Welcome! The great abyss, The depth of sub-feeling, Despair Has nary a ceiling, The space that quells light, The great beast that lurks in Corners, timid but growing steady, Ready to lunge at your swollen throat, Welcome you, most humbly. Plenty of good fun to be had, yes, No need to quiver, nor shiver nor shriek, Won't you reply? Listen well, Heathen, Then speak! "I haven't a way to reply, As it seems my mouth has gone, Perhaps you could help me, sir? I have travelled through the long dark, Tarried little and fought hard, though I know not where I am, For all that I see is bleak, colourless, And without life. Without shape in fact, even You, who speaks in dark riddles, Seemingly a bearer of poor news, Have no shape whatsoever. Perhaps you could help me, sir?" Lo! You do not know? Oh! This is good fun, To be the bearer, The carrier eternal, of This so-called poor news. Many similar passages I have borne, In ages past. Time has wrought, Anguish ridden, crestfallen, Severe souls, And they are delivered! Like a crane to a chimney, Time brings great gifts to my halls. Listen here now, heathen, And listen well, For your everlasting fate, That which you deserve, Is here In the depths of hell.

42

What stories hide beneath the skin? What rich knowledge? What puzzles to solve, doors to unlock? What landscapes to explore? Oceans undiscovered, Ripe with creatures beyond comprehension. Lands of mysterious hues, Shaded, bright, and beautiful. Layer upon layer, Row upon row, Floor atop floor, It is seemingly impossible to see it all. Our minds fold at the thought of ourselves.

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Jul 10, 2019

Jul 10, 2019 at 11:02 AM UTC

Questions and an Ocean

What stories hide beneath the skin? What rich knowledge? What puzzles to solve, doors to unlock? What landscapes to explore? Oceans undiscovered, Ripe with creatures beyond comprehension. Lands of mysterious hues, Shaded, bright, and beautiful. Layer upon layer, Row upon row, Floor atop floor, It is seemingly impossible to see it all. Our minds fold at the thought of ourselves.

13

Fresh, sour, Cowardly and brave, All lives within. Tales of fear and valour, Novels that turn into trilogies that turn into mysteries. None shall tell the tale. Not mind, Nor face, Nor body. I am life, And I am a mystery.

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Jul 10, 2019

Jul 10, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC

Let it be so

Fresh, sour, Cowardly and brave, All lives within. Tales of fear and valour, Novels that turn into trilogies that turn into mysteries. None shall tell the tale. Not mind, Nor face, Nor body. I am life, And I am a mystery.

11

How can I make you feel my love? My love, that swings through the dense jungle of my mind, And swims circles in the oceans of my chest. The love that thrives in me, That cries and dives deep. Maybe I can send it in a letter, Better yet I'll send myself. Let's just lay down awhile, And watch the ceiling. Let the fly on the wall know, What it means to fall, Into the folds of another

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Apr 28, 2019

Apr 28, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC

I Have an Important Question

How can I make you feel my love? My love, that swings through the dense jungle of my mind, And swims circles in the oceans of my chest. The love that thrives in me, That cries and dives deep. Maybe I can send it in a letter, Better yet I'll send myself. Let's just lay down awhile, And watch the ceiling. Let the fly on the wall know, What it means to fall, Into the folds of another

12

There is life outside my window. Fresh winds blow from the east, Bringing with them crisp ocean air. Creeks and rivers are washing, Whisking away the last remnants of winter. Through my window, I see the sun, The sky so blue and a world anew. In my room, through my window, I observe, with experiences few. Within my room, through my window, You may see me, trapped, As if bound by iron rings. The trees are ready, And I too, am Ready to shake hands with spring.

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Mar 23, 2019

Mar 23, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC

A Warm Welcome

There is life outside my window. Fresh winds blow from the east, Bringing with them crisp ocean air. Creeks and rivers are washing, Whisking away the last remnants of winter. Through my window, I see the sun, The sky so blue and a world anew. In my room, through my window, I observe, with experiences few. Within my room, through my window, You may see me, trapped, As if bound by iron rings. The trees are ready, And I too, am Ready to shake hands with spring.

15

There is nothing more to say than "hello". Expanding its breadth, The sun waves, And I smile back. "Hello"

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Mar 17, 2019

Mar 17, 2019 at 8:57 PM UTC

Greetings From the Cold Man

There is nothing more to say than "hello". Expanding its breadth, The sun waves, And I smile back. "Hello"

5

It was dark, And there was rain. I could barely see the reflection of the lifeless city sky, In the shallow puddles, I was passing over. The pavement, It took the form of a rough-backed beast, That wanted nothing but to devour all, All except me. I felt lonely. The world passes on, And I remain. Drops of water tap me gently. I wish it would rain down, hard. I wish it would rain tears, So that I knew I wasn't alone. Ripples, small ripples, Shake me, And I feel like I don't matter.

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Mar 17, 2019

Mar 17, 2019 at 8:49 PM UTC

3 Parts, One Truth

It was dark, And there was rain. I could barely see the reflection of the lifeless city sky, In the shallow puddles, I was passing over. The pavement, It took the form of a rough-backed beast, That wanted nothing but to devour all, All except me. I felt lonely. The world passes on, And I remain. Drops of water tap me gently. I wish it would rain down, hard. I wish it would rain tears, So that I knew I wasn't alone. Ripples, small ripples, Shake me, And I feel like I don't matter.

19

Can there be no balance between what a person can do and what they hypothetically need to do? Can we not let our children decide for themselves what their futures hold? Can everyone please respect one another and their decisions? Can we not remove ourselves from our immense egos and just take it all in for what it is? Is it impossible for us to feel love for other people due to the blatant fact that they too are human beings who have been hurt, who have loved, who feel and care and try and fail and do all of the things that are so **** human? We are all we have, so we better learn to love each other.

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Jan 16, 2019

Jan 16, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC

A Series of Important Queries

Can there be no balance between what a person can do and what they hypothetically need to do? Can we not let our children decide for themselves what their futures hold? Can everyone please respect one another and their decisions? Can we not remove ourselves from our immense egos and just take it all in for what it is? Is it impossible for us to feel love for other people due to the blatant fact that they too are human beings who have been hurt, who have loved, who feel and care and try and fail and do all of the things that are so **** human? We are all we have, so we better learn to love each other.

7

Trees whistle solemn tunes, Clouds roll around in bed together, And people are scattered sparsely. The sun has departed, My heart wavers, I feel loved? Ha, hardly.

0

Jan 7, 2019

Jan 7, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC

A Poorly Timed Blustery Day

Trees whistle solemn tunes, Clouds roll around in bed together, And people are scattered sparsely. The sun has departed, My heart wavers, I feel loved? Ha, hardly.

7