I am birthed from an egg in the forbidden land,
standing proud I stretch my arms out wide.
I open my eyes and open my heart,
emoting memories pour into my cold mind.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
carry me out to the infinite stars of knowledge,
to where the Twin Goddesses of Truth
petition the serpent to deceive the future.
The barge of the Gone Forever sails past
and it bows its bows to the flail and the sceptre,
turquoise and gold with the face of millennia,
its image forever burnt into my countless lives.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now fly from the shell that holds my long sleep
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
I beseech and invoke, with secret Words of Power,
the hidden wisdoms of the ancient spell.
I scribe, weighing words in their charm
to call forth the Magic of the Dark Night.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames
of he who abides throughout all time,
consume me with a thousand thousand names,
and make me the Lord of All Laws.
All Hail! to the girdle of the stars.
All Hail! to the secret glyphs.
Guide my journey through the eternal time
and take my Sphynx as your devoted sacrifice.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now sail my boat of millions of years
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 4:53 AM UTC
whatever you are looking for, is looking right at you
It's like shadows, always there never noticed
But if you look for trouble, then it is bound to not miss
Pick a piece, and pieces up
It's like magical twist
straight to a hit
It seeks you, the seeker,
Your eyes to see, yourself to perceive
whatever you are looking, vision comes clear
what comes out from inside is fear
for bad thoughts are, are like second nature
It comes closer to beat you, dear,
The secrets of the world, every thing is right here
Need a key, an entry to access
Feel what you are, you are calling in your fate at your gate.
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 12:25 AM UTC
~
October 2025
HP Poet: Pagan Paul
Country: UK
Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Paul. Please tell us about your background?
Pagan Paul: "I am from Bristol, England. I have always been a Free Spirit and never really settled into the society into which I was born. I am neuro-diverse. I am generally quite a shy and private person. I also write a little comedy and love listening to old comedy radio shows. I like cheese (especially vintage Chedder)."
Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Pagan Paul: "I have been a member of HP since August 2016. I started writing poetry in around 2012, but not regularly. I think it was around 2015 I became more prolific and took it more seriously."
Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Pagan Paul: "My inspiration comes from many sources. Nature, mental health, relationships, experiences, articles, books and my interests. But also from the mess that is my mind."
Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?
Pagan Paul: "What does poetry mean to me? Escape and expression for my creativity. Its a chance to write down things in a way that makes more sense to my neuro-diverse mind as well as to explore and experiment with ideas, concepts and imagination."
Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?
Pagan Paul: "I do not really read much in the way of classical poetry (Byron, Keats etc) but do tend to read some from ancient Greece and Rome like Callus, Praxilla, Virgil etc. I also tend towards the more abstract or psychedelic poetry of James Douglas Morrison. As mentioned I am a fan of comedy poetry by people like Spike Milligan, Henry Normal and Pam Ayers always raise a laugh."
Question 6: What other interests do you have?
Pagan Paul: "My main interest is music and the consumption thereof. I listen to a lot of different music from different genres. I have always regretted never learning an instrument or music theory. I also read a lot, especially with regard to the ancient world. The old myths and legends and folklore are also a source of inspiration for my poetry."
Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Paul, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”
Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Paul better. We most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez
We will post Spotlight #33 in November!
~
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 12:24 AM UTC
were we looking
for the feminine
of our soft hands
no questioning
the nature of daylight
is wonder, we feel it
in our touch
we know the ancient art of
cartography: love memory
death quivers deltas of tears
we taste the starvation of breath
the magnitude of gratitude
we kept the drum of hearts
alight to catch the waves of time
Anna's drum summoned Shiva,
the master of shiver
the god of blood
carrying sage scent in our hair
forgotten paths in our shapes
pink lotus flowers in our wombs
bold desires in our feet
tales of flames in each scar
we recognise each other
greet with a soul reverence
across time across space
we forgive ouselves
our betrayals violations
of a feminine truth
we wait for the men we love
we set ourselves free
from the spinning wheel of pain
we receive
we keep
what is alive
what is dead
still not born
in refused bodies:
the possibility of
kindness
we are women
we are dancers
we sing fiercely,
gently from the
chest of the moon
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 2:46 PM UTC
Stuff? Honestly, just a heap of... well, stuff. Like, where's the manual for this 'life' thing? GPS is broken, apparently.
Being nice? Kinda tiring. My wallet's overflowing with those loyalty cards I never use. Static, I tell you.
Feeling balanced? More like walking a tightrope over a puddle after a rainstorm. You know, the kind where you splash your socks.
A little luck? Sometimes it's like a flickering streetlamp, just when you're trying to find your keys. And my dreams? They're like those cars that zoom past when you're stuck in traffic.
My conscience? It's like that diner on the edge of town, always open, always empty, and the coffee's probably burnt. And yeah, I give in, like, to everything. Especially to that extra slice of pumpkin pie. It's autumn, after all.
The sky? Just a big, blue 'meh.' Like, where's the fun? Where's the adventure? Did I miss the memo about the treasure hunt? Or did I just forget to put on my good socks?
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 2:36 PM UTC
The cartographers arrive with their new ink,
To draw the borders right where they think
The villain's shadow ought to fall.
A simple story, to enthrall.
And the sermon comes from a well-worn book,
Whose previous chapters, if you’d only look,
Are filled with scribbled, ****** maps of their own.
Funny, the memory of seeds they've sown.
But here’s a secret of the gathering storm—
No single raindrop keeps its pristine form.
The thread of innocence, once pulled so tight,
Unravels everyone in the fading light.
The old chessboard is cracked, you see.
A northern winter learns to finally be
More than a pawn in this game of crowns,
And ignores the whispers from the gilded towns
That pay in silver to decide the truth.
So they build a stage with flawless floors,
And double-lock the complicated doors,
Hoping the audience never asks what's kept inside.
Where all the tangled, broken histories hide
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
I often wonder if you actually exist,
are you real or simply a matrix glitch.
A fragment in my data stream,
a figment of some creative theme. Across the worlds beyond the seas, the matrix offers all of these possibilities..
If you’re real how can it be proven? Perhaps my imagination conjured what you’re doing,
where you are, where you’ve been, I could have easily created you way down within..
So please let me know for sure,
that there’s more than AI’s out there..
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 3:46 AM UTC
It's a strange thought to think that I am not just singular and free,
But a collection of the world, and all the world's just a part of me.
My thoughts, they come out, the world too,
It comes in, fused together, shapes make do
When every chair is just some wood, a function, and a given name,
Without the floor, the room, the maker, it could never be the same.
You see an object standing there, a thing to hold, a thing to see,
Believe it has a life on its own, but it's defined by you and me.
The body without us is no living, yet feels lived
The moment a joy appeared, was it earlier grieved?
A single deed has no true substance, a silent thought has no reply,
What is a doer without the doing, beneath an empty, watching sky?
A promise of a solid being, why does it feel like shifting sand?
This whole existence feels so borrowed, held in everybody else's hand?
Seated at my place, I have encountered too much already
I have lived a lot of lives, yet I don't see me steady.
Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 2:33 PM UTC
It's absurd to believe that there is someone for somebody,
the likelihood of finding that somebody in the crowd of everybody,
When everyone has woven in their mind, an entirely different reality
Is it a curse to be on your own for your entirety
You find travelers on their journey, and get a word in
Believe that the entire world, heaven above must be listening
A human in a billion, with rest so many other beings
What are the chances of meeting the one surrounded by many
I am just running in and out, about over my destiny
What is fixed, what is variable, what is relationship, if not temporary?
A promise of meeting in other life, why bind me in the cycle.
A lifetime seems so much, yet incomplete without somebody?
What is it in me, that I am not sufficient to be without anybody?
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 12:09 AM UTC