Lahkeesha - Hello Poetry

Lake water tickles my ribs - Body buoyant, weightless. Fresh waves fold around this moment, and I wonder how Mother Nature hugs you, If not here, in a lake on a hot day in August. If not here, beneath painted skies. Her voice rides the sticky breeze, cascading past the sands, the noises, the pressures are muffled, here in her arms.

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 10:04 AM UTC

Buoyant

Lake water tickles my ribs - Body buoyant, weightless. Fresh waves fold around this moment, and I wonder how Mother Nature hugs you, If not here, in a lake on a hot day in August. If not here, beneath painted skies. Her voice rides the sticky breeze, cascading past the sands, the noises, the pressures are muffled, here in her arms.

11

I pretended to be a raven and I tried to befriend a crow. I left him shiny treasures, set perfectly in row. He gave me no thank yous, glaring fiercely and unmoved Waiting for my exit, to investigate his loot. Each day, I would mimic his calls or his cries But his head only tilted, suspicion in his eyes One day I braved the tree tops, to put on a show A feather to feather, A raven to a crow But a crow knows his kin and a raven's disguise He leaves me behind, to sail through the skies Still I leave him shiny trinkets, loyal till the end Sometimes dreams live on, if only for pretend.

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 9:56 AM UTC

A raven to a crow

I pretended to be a raven and I tried to befriend a crow. I left him shiny treasures, set perfectly in row. He gave me no thank yous, glaring fiercely and unmoved Waiting for my exit, to investigate his loot. Each day, I would mimic his calls or his cries But his head only tilted, suspicion in his eyes One day I braved the tree tops, to put on a show A feather to feather, A raven to a crow But a crow knows his kin and a raven's disguise He leaves me behind, to sail through the skies Still I leave him shiny trinkets, loyal till the end Sometimes dreams live on, if only for pretend.

13

The curve of our world holds steady like a windowed boundary, glimpses caught, but the whole will never be seen. Atmosphere to roof us The unbound expanse lies unmatched for words, unseen by naked eyes. Stars, not specks, are untold giants swirling the infinite, boiling white lights in their stomachs, smiling and waving through the night. The lack of air, choking The bending of time, spooling As comets trail the moon, bleeding in inky black. Behind the pulse of stars dying In the vacuum, light bends but never breaks Tethered to nothing, drawn into the eternal without end.

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 9:54 AM UTC

Cosmos

The curve of our world holds steady like a windowed boundary, glimpses caught, but the whole will never be seen. Atmosphere to roof us The unbound expanse lies unmatched for words, unseen by naked eyes. Stars, not specks, are untold giants swirling the infinite, boiling white lights in their stomachs, smiling and waving through the night. The lack of air, choking The bending of time, spooling As comets trail the moon, bleeding in inky black. Behind the pulse of stars dying In the vacuum, light bends but never breaks Tethered to nothing, drawn into the eternal without end.

14

I didn't want to hurt you, not with speech, not with pen. It would pain me less to leave you, in silence withdrawn and churning possibilities. I could wonder sidewalks chasing dusk, while the weapons load. One bullet, after the other. One couplet at a time. Pain pours all it's pity, and my head grows loud with arguments never made. -Grenades missing pins. If only I could reach my desk and paper. If only the words in my thoughts could mold and melt to hymn. Would this burning cease? It's within these boundaries, The asylum of grief can howl in her madness. Forever guilty, for what can not be changed. Within the white of the blank page, My spilling pain dances to the beat of metaphor Drumming on No rhyme Just rhythmic tearing Pouring All the things I could not say.

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 9:51 AM UTC

Rhythmic Pain

I didn't want to hurt you, not with speech, not with pen. It would pain me less to leave you, in silence withdrawn and churning possibilities. I could wonder sidewalks chasing dusk, while the weapons load. One bullet, after the other. One couplet at a time. Pain pours all it's pity, and my head grows loud with arguments never made. -Grenades missing pins. If only I could reach my desk and paper. If only the words in my thoughts could mold and melt to hymn. Would this burning cease? It's within these boundaries, The asylum of grief can howl in her madness. Forever guilty, for what can not be changed. Within the white of the blank page, My spilling pain dances to the beat of metaphor Drumming on No rhyme Just rhythmic tearing Pouring All the things I could not say.

21

The frog's throne sits vacant Twin petal moons play the guardians Proficient swimmers, bobbing the silky ripples, forgetting with each sway, their place and their names. "Lilies" the winds whisper, "Pearls of the pond"

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 9:49 AM UTC

Water Lilies

The frog's throne sits vacant Twin petal moons play the guardians Proficient swimmers, bobbing the silky ripples, forgetting with each sway, their place and their names. "Lilies" the winds whisper, "Pearls of the pond"

6

If essence could cater to my divine awake, I wouldn't darken a single page. I would kiss the blarring ink with its pretty illusions The words would unmake all obstruction No clouds on the orange horizon Only a homage yearning in white

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 9:44 AM UTC

Collision

If essence could cater to my divine awake, I wouldn't darken a single page. I would kiss the blarring ink with its pretty illusions The words would unmake all obstruction No clouds on the orange horizon Only a homage yearning in white

6

I imagine ghosts exist, if only to float and dance through the mist. Not remembering who or what they are. They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they howl, gut-wrenching Echoing down emptied halls. Passing through spiders spinning webs brushing the dust off statue heads Forgetting names, or important places They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they wander, broken Peering through ***** windows. I imagine they prefer to haunt empty homes Places like them, left alone Gutted, hollow, naked rooms They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they haunt, barley noticed Wailing for their names

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May 14, 2024

May 14, 2024 at 6:19 PM UTC

I imagine ghosts exist

I imagine ghosts exist, if only to float and dance through the mist. Not remembering who or what they are. They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they howl, gut-wrenching Echoing down emptied halls. Passing through spiders spinning webs brushing the dust off statue heads Forgetting names, or important places They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they wander, broken Peering through ***** windows. I imagine they prefer to haunt empty homes Places like them, left alone Gutted, hollow, naked rooms They don't speak, they don't weep Instead they haunt, barley noticed Wailing for their names

17

She used to come to me in whispers, hushed under the calm of the early morning. "Just like her, just like her, you know you are" I ignored the noise for years. I had almost forgot to listen, he made me forget. A fairy tale prince, riding in on a steed to slay my whispered monster It starts that way, like a story book or a poem. the weight of words lift kisses on my forehead Whispers can't be heard over a heartbeat next to mine. It starts that way, all beauty and shine somewhere, at some point, things grey Whispers return, a little different this time "He'll see, just like her. You know he'll leave. Just you see" They devour the peace. I remember now, as the monster comes scratching, rapping her tired song I remember now the lyrics to her curse the endlessness that gathers, pouring dirt and sand burring me slowly under Just like her

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May 14, 2024

May 14, 2024 at 6:16 PM UTC

She Whispers

She used to come to me in whispers, hushed under the calm of the early morning. "Just like her, just like her, you know you are" I ignored the noise for years. I had almost forgot to listen, he made me forget. A fairy tale prince, riding in on a steed to slay my whispered monster It starts that way, like a story book or a poem. the weight of words lift kisses on my forehead Whispers can't be heard over a heartbeat next to mine. It starts that way, all beauty and shine somewhere, at some point, things grey Whispers return, a little different this time "He'll see, just like her. You know he'll leave. Just you see" They devour the peace. I remember now, as the monster comes scratching, rapping her tired song I remember now the lyrics to her curse the endlessness that gathers, pouring dirt and sand burring me slowly under Just like her

20

Peel back the scales the blackened bits the blistered redness the purple putrid scabs inside are paper thin cuts unhealed

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May 14, 2024

May 14, 2024 at 6:14 PM UTC

Where it lies

Peel back the scales the blackened bits the blistered redness the purple putrid scabs inside are paper thin cuts unhealed

6

The edge of me has never rounded it remains sharpened razor cuts are dangerous The muscles within choke bent and barbed in wires A fatal heart never takes a beat sealed meat, so tender A cage can snap closed like a vice pounding at the cellar door echoing through the halls

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May 14, 2024

May 14, 2024 at 6:12 PM UTC

The Edge of Me

The edge of me has never rounded it remains sharpened razor cuts are dangerous The muscles within choke bent and barbed in wires A fatal heart never takes a beat sealed meat, so tender A cage can snap closed like a vice pounding at the cellar door echoing through the halls

10