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 2130Β° 
Nishu Mathur
Skies darken as blue fades,
clouds burst in happiness,
a cascade of drops,
soaking earth,
a rosary of shimmering beads,
crystal droplets dance in puddles,
peering through glass windows,
tapping on roof tops that slant,
on thatched homes that drip,
on twigs and branches,
on ruby tangerine roses and sunny marigolds,
settling in scarlet and auburn crevices,
on emerald leaves and blades of satin green grass,
glistening like drops of morning dew,
and in the midst of the gentle splash of the rain,
there you are β€”
it is always raining you
Old poem.
 1844Β° 
Asuka
The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.

The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.
Take care, breathe easy, and give yourself the rest you deserve. Rest well, recharge, and remember, like the moon, even brilliance needs the night to shine again.

β€” A gentle reminder that even nature pauses to gather strength.
 1838Β° 
Abbott J Hardison
Someday love,
We'll live down by the sea,
Together for all of eternity.

Someday love,
We'll be away from pestering eyes,
Making a life for ourselves.

Someday love,
We'll grow old with our son and daughter,
Joyously watching as they grow.

Someday. . .
Wishing
 1256Β° 
Daniel
So many things that
words can never say
                β€’
Too many words that
just get in the way
                β€’
Β©2025 Daniel Irwin Tucker
 1049Β° 
Cheryl Ann Warner
Give me your heart
And I’ll give you mine
Give me your heart
And I can see
Give me your heart
And it will be me
 1007Β° 
You've Been Timetabled
~
April 2025
HP Poet: Nishu Mathur
Age: 54
Country: India


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Nishu. Please tell us about your background?

Nishu Mathur: "I was born in Delhi, a somewhat chaotic yet majestic city with an interesting and rich historic past. Had a lovely childhood and loving parents. Simple, honest and hard working folks. My late father was with Indian Airlines (senior executive management). My mum is a retired Professor. She taught in Delhi University for 41 years. I have a younger brother who is an economist/ professor. I spent a few years in NYC as a child in the 70s. Impressionable years. My love for reading started in school in NYC. We moved back to India in 1979. Did my undergraduate and Master’s in English Literature from Delhi University, St. Stephen’s College. I used to be a voracious reader. Read a lot till I was in school. Had finished reading most classics by the time I was in 10th grade. After that, I started reading contemporary works.

My husband is a technocrat. I have two lovely, kind-hearted daughters, one is an investment manager and the other, a budding lawyer. We love dogs. We had an adorable saintly pug, Now we have two incorrigible beagles.

I have travelled a bit. I have lived in Japan and Canada for a few years and have stayed in different cities in India. I have met incredible people from all over, experienced different traditions and cultures. Learned so much.

I used to teach once upon a time. I’ve also worked as a corporate trainer. Now I work as an editor and content creator for a non profit organization."



Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Nishu Mathur: "I wrote a bit as a child. Then for a little while around 2000. But finally, I really started writing when I took a break from work in 2011. Have been on this site for almost 9 years. I posted my first poem on Hello Poetry in 2016."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Nishu Mathur: "Nature β€” trees, flowers, the sun, the moon. A moment in time. Something I read that I love. Memories. Something around me that I notice that leaves an impact. I used to write happy-go-lucky, cheeky poems too. Really silly stuff. I once wrote a poem on Indian moustaches. On double chins. Mosquitoes. I wrote parodies. Would love to get back to writing poetry like I used to.

I mostly write when I am at peace. For the longest time I found it hard to express sadness and grief. But I think I am getting over that."



Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Nishu Mathur: "Poetry is my go-to-place. A friend, a companion. It is a feeling. It is catharsis. It inspires. It is an outlet for creativity. I am very happy when I am able to write something. I feel rejuvenated. Like I can breathe.

I have learned a lot about poetry over the years. Poetry has also given me an opportunity to know myself and others better.

A poem can say so much in a few words. We can all have our own takeaways and interpretations. Words become magical and beautiful when woven together in poetry. I find that fascinating.

I am not a big talker. So I find happiness and comfort in written words. Poetry helps me to connect with people β€” thanks to online websites such as HP."



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Nishu Mathur: "Rumi, Emily Dickinson, Vikram Seth, Maya Angelou, Ruskin Bond, Wordsworth, Yeats, Shel Silverstein, Pam Ayres. I love reading the work of fellow poets too."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Nishu Mathur: "Besides poetry, I enjoy music. I am trying my hand at painting. I love walking, going for long drives. I used to love travelling but haven’t been able to travel much these past few years. Love watching feel good, happy movies."


Carlo C. Gomez: β€œWe would like to thank you Nishu, 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!”

Nishu Mathur: "Thank you Carlo for Timetabling me and for your support. Grateful for the encouragement and inspiration I have received and continue to receive from this wonderful community of poets on Hello Poetry."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Nishu a little bit better. We 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 #27 in May!

~
 689Β° 
From the ashes
I've never written a limerick.
Thinking of it makes me sick.
Better a sonnet
or a woman upon it.
Maybe, I'll just play with my ****.
lol.  Just having fun.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICWIGqf62Kw
poetry reading on you tube by Thomas W. Case
 658Β° 
Carlo C Gomez
Remember they're monsters

Not just in theory, but really

It's no longer about the evidence

(If it ever was...)

But a call to collusion

They want you silent

Unless you recite after them

So they can write papers

On pipe dreams
 531Β° 
Marc Morais
We see ourselves
as a house of mirrorsβ€”
each reflection warps
to fit its frame

What else can we doβ€”
we trim the edges
smooth out the lightβ€”
If the curve is wrong
we bend our sights

Do I add too muchβ€”
a borrowed shadow
stolen tints and mismatched colors
remove too littleβ€”
leave out the seam

We are never as we are
only as we fit
within what we let others seeβ€”
patched by memory
tilted to surviveβ€”
from shame
from fears
from the raging battle
of wanting to hide and be seen
all at onceβ€”
never finding balance

I am tired
of self-adjustingβ€”
I want to get caught up in the rain
with someone who can walk
through mirrors
 493Β° 
sena
today i turned 17
another year onto my life
another candle on the cake;
closer to being an adult
or
closer to my death
my perception of aging has always been obscured
unsurety fills me not knowing what lies ahead
but i no longer want to live "unsure"
im determined to live this last year of being adult-free ;
with no worries, no doubts
to live surely in everything i do
ill update again in 365 days.
i want to be 16 forever
 450Β° 
ivan
sometimes i just need a hug

not the harsh words
maybe i just dont want to listen
to the truth
maybe im just too overwhelmed

sensitive.

i would never ask
for something like this
stabbing teeth into my wrists

like a dog, i follow you,
i admire you
but
sometimes all i need
is a hug
exhausted
torn apart.
 368Β° 
Opal Black
Quick do you hear it?
Do you hear that ticking sound?
Open up your chest and reach beyond the pound
Can you feel it?
Can you feel that ticking now?
You are running out of time, will you die now?

Tick, Tick, Tick.
Does that change anything now?
Are you still there?
Even after the sound?
Don’t let it stop, you can’t
But it wants to stop,
Will you let it?
 320Β° 
CS Modei
I’d tear the sun from the sky,
Lest it burn your eyes;
Pull your ship from the grasp of the sea,
Lest you succumb to its depths;
Quell the winds of the raging storm,
Lest it ruffle your hair.
The first in a series of poems for my partner, my beautiful ray of moonlight that penetrates the darkness I live in.
 300Β° 
cassandra
and if one day
you decide to stop calling
i’ll still be leaving my phone
with the sound on
for the night
 296Β° 
Mina
πšˆπšŽπšŠπš‘ 𝙸 πšŠπš–, πš πš‘πšŠπš'𝚜 πš—πšŽπš .
πšƒπš‘πš’πšœ πšπš’πš–πšŽ πš’πš'𝚜 πšπš’πšπšπšŽπš›πšŽπš—πš, πš’πš'𝚜 πš‘πš˜πš  πšπš’πš–πšŽ πšπš•πšŽπš .
πš†πš’πš•πš• 𝙸 𝚊𝚐𝚎 πš˜πš—πšŽ 𝚍𝚊𝚒 πšŠπš—πš πš πš˜πš—πšπšŽπš› πš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš‘πšŠπšœ πš–πš’ πš•πš’πšπšŽ πšπš˜πš—πšŽ.
πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πš–πšŠπš”πšŽ πš’πš πš˜πš•πš, πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πš–πš˜πšŸπšŽ πš˜πš—.
π™Ύπš•πš πš™πšŽπš˜πš™πš•πšŽ πšœπšŒπšŠπš›πšŽ πš–πšŽ πš πš’πšπš‘ πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› πšŠπšπšŸπš’πšŒπšŽ.
πšƒπš‘πšŽπš’ πš–πšŠπš”πšŽ πš–πšŽ πšπšŽπšŽπš• πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝙸'πš– πš™πš•πšŠπš’πš’πš—πš πš–πš’ πš•πš’πšπšŽ πš πš’πšπš‘ πšπš’πšŒπšŽ.
π™½πš˜πš  𝙸'πš– πšƒπš˜πš˜ πšœπšŒπšŠπš›πšŽπš 𝚝𝚘 πšŽπš—πš“πš˜πš’ πš’πš πšŠπš—πš πš›πš˜πšžπš.
π™±πšžπš 𝙸 πšŒπšŠπš—'𝚝 πš‘πšŽπš•πš™ πšπš‘πšŽ πšπšŽπšŽπš•πš’πš—πš 𝚘𝚏 πš–πš’πšœπšœπš’πš—πš 𝚘𝚞𝚝.
πšƒπš‘πšŽπš’ say πš’πš˜πšžπšπš‘ πš’s πšπš•πšŽπšŽπšπš’πš—πš, πš’πšŽπšŠπš‘ πš—πš˜ πšœπš‘πš’πš.
𝙸 πšπšŽπš•πš πš’πš 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚒 πš‹πšŽπšπš˜πš›πšŽ πš’ πšŒπš˜πšžπš•πš πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πšŒπš˜πš–πš–πš’πš.
πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš› πš•πš˜πš˜πš” πš‹πšŠπšŒπš” πšŠπš—πš 𝚜𝚊𝚒 "πšƒπš‘πšŠπš 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πš–πš’πš—πšŽ"
π™Ύπš› πš“πšžπšœπš πš πšŠπšπšŒπš‘ πšπš›πš˜πš– 𝚊 πšπš’πšœπšπšŠπš—πšŒπšŽ 𝚊𝚜 πš’ πš›πšžπš— 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 πšπš’πš–πšŽ
I have a full beard at 16
 246Β° 
Vianne Lior
Soft hush
a lilac hush,
spilling from heaven’s cufflinks.

Dust-throated wind,
draped in violet lace,
forgets how to whisper.

Once,
a petal kissed my wrist,
feather-light, sugar-spun.
(It melted before I could love it.)

Beneath the boughs
time folds like an origami swan.
A child presses footprints into fallen silk,
calls for lullabies.

Glittering
a secret only the butterflies know,
written in ultraviolet sighs.

Stay.
Stay.

But the season is shifting,
jacaranda knows no permanence.

A lilac hush
soft hush
dissolving into sky.

The ground is a love letter
written in violet, waiting for rain.
 222Β° 
rhenee rose
Am I suffering beautifully?
Do I wear my agony like a crown?
Adorn it with pearls and jewels,
And parade it into town?

Is my pain reasonable enough?
Do I raise it up or tone it down?
I’ll try to cry pretty, tiny tears,
In fact, I'd do it in my gown!

For even in despair, I should be desirable,
Dare not to be emotional, dare not to make a sound.
To be a woman is to bleed, but glamorously.
There shall be glitters in the meltdown.
A poem about how society expects women’s agony to be palatable.
 210Β° 
Akriti
You wanted a boy
You got me
Were you happy
Of course not
I did all the right things
Took care of you
Didn't chase after boys
Rather, I chased my dreams
Made a name in the world
People I meet say- we are proud of you !
But you are ashamed .
I am still your worthless child
Just because I am a girl.
 203Β° 
Alfred de Musset
Dans dix ans d'ici seulement,
Vous serez un peu moins cruelle.
C'est long, Γ  parler franchement.
L'amour viendra probablement
Donner Γ  l'horloge un coup d'aile.

Votre beautΓ© nous ensorcelle,
Prenez-y garde cependant :
On apprend plus d'une nouvelle
En dix ans.

Quand ce temps viendra, d'un amant
Je serai le parfait modèle,
Trop bΓͺte pour Γͺtre inconstant,
Et trop laid pour Γͺtre infidΓ¨le.
Mais vous serez encor trop belle
Dans dix ans.
 194Β° 
hannah
I,
I
I am
I am me
I am the collective
I am my mother’s laugh
I am my father’s forgiveness
I am my brother’s wish
I am my sister’s soul
I am my pride
I am my ego
I am me
I am
I
 188Β° 
Nina
You
You still do to me
what spring does
with the cherry trees

you do it
in every season
my spring
all year long
 168Β° 
Lance Remir
When we crossed paths again
The only intimacy that was shared
Were our shadows overlapping
And even then
Yours was the first to leave
 153Β° 
Michael Sean Maloney
the azaleas
have yielded

to the peonies
heavy

with rain
they have

in turn
bowed

to the hydrangeas
who have next

nodded
to the magnolias

such a patient parade
such a sharing

of sight
and scent

she said
i am ready

for the end
of my life

i am prepared
 140Β° 
nivek
sweet love, sweet lover
welling up to eternity
- Holy Spirit forever.
 131Β° 
Kaiden
You're like a safety pin.
Holding onto life for me
When i no longer can.
To this one special person.
 125Β° 
Cassandra Livingston
What if two souls of symphonic stanza
With hearts full of haikus' hope
Met right here on Hello Poetry
By reading what the other wrote.

They'd send messages of meter
With affectionate allusions
This couldn't get any sweeter
Free verses with no conclusions

A poem crafted with emotions true
Was sent to one of the two last night.
It wants to say, "I love you more than words."
But instead reads, "I love the way you write."

They'll figure out in time that they're meant to be together
And I am sure that they'll make the cutest couple(t) ever!
Two poets are almost always meant to be
Especially if they meet on Hello Poetry!
 112Β° 
zero sugar
right now there is a storm of sun
no sound in sight
cats are asleep
lips pale and pursed
 109Β° 
Berserker Chained
A caged rat,
is larger
than a mouse,
but which one,
is smarter?
A maze of
interest &
fascination,
the rat will pause
as the mouse,
flies through
a set up game
and wins the
contest.
smells a victory
of serious cheese....
May be smaller,
but may be smarter.
 103Β° 
Megan E Hoffman
What draws me in, to this?

Is it love, or something twistedβ€”
Said a mother to her daughter
It's so hard to tell the difference

                            But please;
                                     I need to know the difference

"
I didn't understand then
And I won't pretend to know much more now;
All I can do is try to not be angry
                          
                            And at that, I'll fail.
                                                           Β­        But I'll learn

"
I used to believe in the world, with an innocent infatuation for its goodness

Now I believe, with a knowing compassion for its faults

...

I think things that are perfect are easy to love;

         We meet God in our love for that which is not
from my poetry book, πŸ“– Biting Thorns Off Roses
 96Β° 
S R Mats
Pretty lips on a pretty boy
But those pretty lips will
Never bring me any joy

Because his lips belong
To his pretty boy-toy
And it rankles me β€˜cause

He used to be mine

(This poem is not autobiographical.  It is about someone I used to know.)
 93Β° 
witch
pearls were ****** like her ruby dagger,
ruby dagger, wears on her belt; dropping venom.
spreading fatal flames with her burning lipstick,
made by the poison of her ruby eyed bloodthirsty serpent.

she knows revenge.

vicious storms brought she,
to a land, oh never was free.
trouble is a woman in need.
needing to see pearls bleed.
 92Β° 
Shaylie
You make me feel like I just took a deep breath of fresh air after being in a hot car
And things haven’t been miserable
Quite the opposite
But better with you here
 91Β° 
Zywa
Women being watched

when they enter, nervously --


cling to their handbags.
Autobiography "Een leeg huis" ("An empty house", 1966, Marga Minco)

Collection "Em Brace"
 87Β° 
Anais Vionet
We’re in a young-love recession.
Gen Zers are slow to trust and averse to risk,
we have, it seems, a particular social nervousness
about interpersonal exchanges and the symbiosis of love.

So we resort to situationships (undefined relationships),
a stratagem for closeness, with zero commitment.

You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance.
You can have a crush so big it blots out the stars
You can have transformative romantic encounters
you can care deeply and get hurt badly
you can, in fact, be absolutely wrecked by love
All without ever being in a relationship.

Thank God we’re only young once.
.
.
Songs for this:
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars
Busy Woman by Sabrina Carpenter
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/15/25:
Stratagem =  a trick or plan for achieving a goal
 84Β° 
alison
you cannot just walk in and out of my life.
I am not a door.
I am not a robot, so do not treat me as if my feelings don't matter, because I'm human, not anything else.
what else is new
 82Β° 
Daniel A Gabbard
The line between madness,
The line between normality,
The price to pay for loneliness;
I ought to pay with sincerity.

In a world of madness,
The normal are insane,
The right are arcane,
And the abused are ridiculed by sadness.
I ought these days to go aflame,
For now, my madness, needs no blame.
There is no notes to be.
 57Β° 
Megan E Hoffman
"If there is only one thing to do well in this life,

It is to love well;

For if there is anything you are to be judged by

It is the plainness, of your loving."

||
πŸ“– the opening page from my book;  "Biting Thorns Off Roses"
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