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 2367Β° 
Kai
The thoughts keep coming back
The ones that force me to remember
A few years ago
I had to endure
Your sharp teeth
Among my delicate flesh
Bruising my skin
When I kept telling you to stop it
When I kept trying to push you off of me
Screaming
Crying
Because I didn't want that
I didn't want you,
My step-sibling,
To give me hickies
Around the age of 9
I was scared
But you wouldn't budge
You just continued to create them
As if it was normal

You'd try to make me hide them
As if you painted black marks
On a board
And tried covering it over
With white
Every foundation we tried to use
Wouldn't be able to work
Because it was too light for me
And was dried out
And I would have to cover it
With my hair

I would have to live with the fact
That no matter what I try
To bring attention to
The hickies
You left on my face and neck,
No one would believe me
Or do anything about it
There was absolutely no discipline for you

Terribly tired of being your toy.
I SWEAR IDK WHAT HAPPENED BUT PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER MY STEP-SIBLING PLEASE. I DON'T SUPPORT ****** AT ALL AND DON'T CONDONE TO ANY OF THEIR ACTIONS.
 1330Β° 
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.
 997Β° 
badwords
Step by step,
no louder than breathβ€”
I walk beside
what isn’t mine to name.

No banners,
no blueprints,
just this sound
of stone learning softness.

You open a window.
I keep the door unlatched.

Let fear finish its echo.
Let the dark chants drift.

Not all ruin is ending.
Some of it
is soil.
 671Β° 
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
~
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!

~
 403Β° 
Maria Etre
XS
When I fear my heart
has become too small
for the love
it carries
failing
to
express
the muchness
of
it
all
 315Β° 
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
 309Β° 
Cain The Wanderer
What is time but caught in the window
I'm stuck in the middle of the glass
and became a shard bleeding soul.

I need redemption for the last
as breathes wheezing from the past.

I need the dirt wiped from the scratches
of glass to find the real me
Them moonlight doesn't shine,
The hammered piano such as I

A puppy in its new home,
in fear suckling the blanket
The still-ness of ageless gnomes,
in a garden of a home that's not home.

The rotten apples in a casket
No longer juicy but so dry
Age wrinkles give us silent cries

The curse of being born beautiful,
Anxiety from their obsession
of one who is still just a pup.
 299Β° 
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.
 282Β° 
apollo
love cannot be described by words
through the silence that holds us close
through the soft touch of our fingers
it is described through the way
we give in
to the longing within
 270Β° 
Adam Torch
Well…
this is not good.

I really, really hoped
you would look worse,
smell worse,
sound worse,
feel worse,
kiss worse…

But you are perfect.
Which means
I have a problem.
𝐴 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘π‘Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘‘ 𝑖𝑛 π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘¦.
𝐴 π‘π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘€π‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘Žπ‘› 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘ π‘œ π‘“π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘Žπ‘¦.  

πΉπ‘œπ‘œπ‘‘π‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘π‘  π‘ π‘œ π‘™π‘œπ‘’π‘‘,
π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Ž 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 π‘ β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘.
𝐴 π‘ π‘œπ‘€ 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘’π‘‘,
π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘–π‘ π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘’π‘‘.  

𝐿𝑒𝑑 π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘¦.
π‘‡π‘œ π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘‘π‘œ 𝑠𝑒𝑒 π‘Žπ‘›π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦.  

π·π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘˜π‘›π‘’π‘ π‘  π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘”π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘›,
𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘’π‘›π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€π‘›.
π‘‡π‘–π‘šπ‘’ 𝑖𝑛 π‘π‘œπ‘ π‘‘π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘’,
π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘™π‘¦ 𝑠𝑒𝑀𝑛.  

πΏπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘π‘–π‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’'𝑠 π‘›π‘œ π‘™π‘’π‘’π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘”π‘’π‘‘π‘Žπ‘€π‘Žπ‘¦.
π‘Œπ‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦π‘  𝑖𝑛 π‘Ž π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘¦,
π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘”π‘œπ‘›π‘¦ 𝑖𝑛 π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘¦.
 232Β° 
Julie
Growing up means becoming an adult,
atleast this is what they say
but if being an adult means being like them,
I’m not sure I want it.

My heart aches at the thought,
my eyes brim with tears
my inner child begs me to not

and

sometimes
the only thing you need to do in a life
is to heal your inner child
dot
 205Β° 
Shambhavi
They pretend to be nice,
But in reality, they are rude.
They pretend to be kind,
But in reality, they are cruel.

They pretend to love animals,
But in reality, they **** their blood.
They pretend to love God,
But in reality, they walk the path of demons.

They pretend to love
But in reality, it's all lust
They pretend to save nature,
But in reality, they make nature cry

All I want to remind you,
my dear,
Nature is not shy.
 185Β° 
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.
 180Β° 
yndn
<|3
when confidence & hope slowly turns into doubts and fearsβ€”

You're not alone.

You are free to run away. Express your worries, your problems. Never be silent.

when emotions rise like wavesβ€”
Remember to keep the calm before the storm;
let it all in and breathe, then out you go
 177Β° 
Anailen
it stings
but thats the price i pay
for doing bad things

again

will it ever stop?

will i ever stop?

itll stop when the world stops spinning
they say it gets better
to wait it out
itll stop when i stop breathing
 175Β° 
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?
 175Β° 
jan oskar hansen
Pressure, pressure

Why can’t they leave him alone
Today the bay window
Demonstrates a panorama of beauty
He longs to go there
Taste the salt sea
To sail away from all this
Back to Jamaica
To places he had been when young
When laughing in the rain
When there was a now
The future too far away to contemplate
Clouds are gathering
There will be rain in the afternoon
The bay window
Has tearstains from
Too many yesterdays
 169Β° 
Decembre
Perhaps when I
Warn myself
Of unrealistic fantasies and dreams
I forget that there
Is such a thing
As unrealistic nightmares
Too
 165Β° 
Kishori
"He was present in every page of my diary
But I wasn't even in any part of his library "
A line from my poem (my heart)
 163Β° 
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
 161Β° 
Piyush
The wound is at her heart,
Her world is apart,
Trying to reach her,
Yet I can't speak with her.

Why is it so tough?
Whenever I see her,
I just stand there,
Frozen in the cold, with just a cough.

Is it my fault?
That I never stood by her,
Or is it her fault?
That she tried others?

I reach for words,
But they never stay,
They slip through my fingers
And fade away.

The day feels different,
But she wouldn’t know,
Once, I was thereβ€”
Now, I watch from the shadow.

If I had spoken,
Would things be the same?
Or was I meant to
Lose this game?

Today should be special,
Like the days we once knew,
But time has spokenβ€”
And so, I stay silent too.
Today is her birthday, and I can't wish her,
So I wrote this as a gift to her.
 160Β° 
Immortality
Amidst the daisies,
all I could see,
was you.

Just us alone,
beneath blue sky.

You beside me, eyes closed,
wind tracing its fingers
through your hair,
bathed in sunlight,
your soft smile lingering.

Oh, how I envy themβ€”
for giving you a peace
I can only dream of.
If only she could be....
I will carry myself with me in all that i know
I will carry myself with me Despite what you Will for me to know
I will carry myself in me
For it is all that i know
I will carry what is in me
Everywhere i go
It is i you will know
Written by:
Timothy Charles Carter
 143Β° 
Richly Ivory-Coate
It would be feminine to say,
It's probably best to say,
The gentle feel of the texture of certain pillows should be slept on with the pillow case, where the part to sleep on is the gentle feel of the pillow,
Uncovered,
Along with the pillow sheet whether silk or not marginally that uncovering
 116Β° 
Rubyredheart
I’ll not touch you
If You don’t want me to
From your words & acts I’ll take my cue
But if you flip my switch & with your okay
I’ll make your mind go numb as you sway
To my hypnotic grind when I have my way
Caressing, confessing
secret hungers that crawl beneath my skin
The need to feel you plunge within
I’m years’ deep now, excitable
Sensations beyond all you imagine
Urging me to dance that dance with your permission
But ONLY if you flip my switch
If not, have no fear
Just friends, then, here
 110Β° 
Michelle E Alba
As I watched
the little girl dance,
Oh how I wept.

With poise,
such grace.
Her image I kept.

You can see
clear as dayβ€”
just look for these things.

Love connects us all.
Like little illuminated
Invisible Strings.
 106Β° 
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.
 102Β° 
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
 98Β° 
Mohan Jaipuri
Sometimes camera becomes
Too small to catch up all.

# Retirement function Er SV Singh
 93Β° 
JohnDuffyASY
Foundation.

Based on a simple question.

What form does paradise take?

Is it simply when one doesn't suffer the mental confusion between unconscious, and conscious desires?

Such as finding love, friendship, material or spiritual wealth, etc. Etc.


Paradisus (L)


Consciousness and Unconsciousness

Rests and bows in peace
As tranquility flows

Through the good heart's
Altarpiece


Β©
Copyright John Duffy


Paradisus translated:
Paradise.
 84Β° 
Ahlam
I wish for my life to be a marathon
Not to win, not to lose
But to always keep running

Whatever happens, whatever I find
If I trip or fall, break a leg or an arm
I wish to get up and keep running

Not to reach a Finish line
But to smile along the road
And to encounter everything I wished for.
 83Β° 
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
 81Β° 
Xio
My heart was heavy, so I wrote, turned ghosts to words, let poems float. You read, you stayed, you understoodβ€”and that alone made bad days good.

So here’s my thanks, a whispered sighβ€”
I’ll step away, but not goodbye.
 76Β° 
Michael Marchese
Depleting
Approaching
The close
Of my business
It’s none of your wishlist
And spent of forgiveness
So much as returning
A glance
Now accosts
Me a fortune
In earnings
I’ve turned
Into loss
And like moss
Emblematically claims
Academia
Billionaire socialists
Boast social media
Ghosting their former
Profile’s
Depictions
Recombinant matrix
Red pillage
Prescriptions
Now written
As freely
As AIDs in the 80’s
Pervaded
Their brains
And turned men
Into ladies
 75Β° 
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
 73Β° 
Elaina
Loving
Lovable
and
Loved
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