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 May 2016 Moksha
DaSH the Hopeful
As talent drained from every inch of my mind
I found reading other's work only made me jealous
                   I started to feel unpopular
          Not enough ideas left to create anything at all. Not a single drop of inspiration.

      As all of theses emotions and realizations mixed together

I became okay with copying your work.

       I can imagine you slaving in the dark
Racking your brain to find the perfect words to finish the last line


       Lucky for me I have it all right here, completed and ready to post
     Finished and polished and prepackaged with a message I didn't think of but everyone will commend me for.




    *I hope you enjoy it.
Not actually plagiarized. Just tired of seeing others plagiarize on here.
 May 2016 Moksha
DaSH the Hopeful
I stop in my tracks,
          Listening

  A hollow
clinking in the darkness.
In an alleyway, somewhat familiar,
Vacant and forgotten in the twilight hours
Except for the lingering cigarette smoke
And the scent of frigid, dehumanizing hate

  And a
clink
Low and somehow beneath the dense, dank dark

  A sound disillusioning and honed to a fine point, like that of a blade meant to harvest death

  A
clink
And another
clink

                           There is a man sitting near the end of the alley
                           At the back of the throat of Hell itself
                           He has his head down
                           But through the thick black smudge of night
                           I can still see the base of a brown glass bottle tap the bottom of an upper row of teeth

He stops, and looks up at me with eyes that resemble mine a little too much for my comfort

                                    He brings the bottle down, and lowers his head, gazing at it as if for the first time
                                    Suddenly he snaps his eyes up to mine, instantly staring into the deep void of apathy that looks back.
                                    He smiles a knowing smile, and slams the bottle against his teeth.
  


              It does much more than *
clink.
 Mar 2016 Moksha
Rapunzoll
She was nature, beautiful
But deadly, her cheeks as
Scornful as a rose, the smile hid
The thorns underneath.

Her presence though unseen,
Could be felt, like the sun's warm
Breath on bare winter skin.

She led him somewhere secret
As the night lures the stars,
As clouds gorge on the
Fragile light of the moon.

Over the crumbled bodies
Of leaves, into the alien
Land of tranquility.

When he woke, hands burning,
There was nothing left to see.
Only a faint feeling glistening
In the air, a failing heart and
A tongue full of dreams.
© copyright
 Feb 2016 Moksha
Cat Fiske
I have read so many wonderful poems,
haiku's, 10 words, so many more, and none are alike!
But we tend to forget about spoken word poems,
Hello Poetry, can you make it possible to share our spoken words as well as our massive pile on's of endless poetry. Spoken Words would add to the sight, and only make it better.
I wish I could also Use Hellopoetry on my mobile phone, in an app,
I'm not sure about anyone else, but that would maybe add to HP

Please consider what I've had to say, c:
Please send repost like and share and comment anything else you think the sight needs since it's growing in great ways. Please share and like if you agree c:
Life , love and friendship are all about timing .
Copyright January 12 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Oct 2015 Moksha
DaSH the Hopeful
Phones* are like *relationships:
*You really love them at first, but soon, they just don't do it for you anymore and you want one with better features
#Bleak #DontGetMeWrong #ILoveMyFiancee #Melz #Goofy #CheckOutHerPoetry #PointlessHashtags #She'llProbablyFindThisCute
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