alia - Hello Poetry

Aug 8

Abbott J Hardison

Up to the trees I go,
Further north where fresh water flows.
Travel preparations with my heart aching,
Home is where I’m free,
Left alone just to be.
Not in this gloomy place,
Not within this heat wave.
Like a pioneer,
I pack my bags,
Leaving behind the places I know,
In search of the places,
Where I’ll grow.

I’m on the road, making my way up to the mountains. Travel is good for the soul, you shouldn’t dwell in the same places for too long.

#northern #trees #loving #mountains

Aug 7

Khadi Alza

Static...

Sometimes i sit next the the edge,
an old radio next to me.
As i lie down on my sledge,
the radio sings to me.

Sings me songs of love,
like a chirping little dove.
Or cries a tale of sorrow,
my eyes trailing a river till the morrow.

But then...
skies of grey rolled in.
Thunder booms across the sky.
haze and fog clouds my gaze.

And the radio?
all i can hear from it is static.

ME:
Hello?
Hello? Can you still play?
Can you still give me the words that flow easily out of your head?
Can you still reach me?
Hello???

the radios my head.
it used to buzz with ideas.
then came the clouds.
rumbling and thundering
, leaving the radio to go
...............................................

Aug 7

Ander Stone

through sunlight

darling,
it hurts too much
to watch
as you chase
someone else's dream,
as they chase
someone else's dream,
and no one's
chasing their own.

darling,
it hurts too much
to watch
you pass through
the valleys of life,
as the shadows
stretch further
with every step,
and the valley
stretches too.

darling,
it hurts too much
to hear you
say to me,
in that crystalline voice
that warms my heart,
"the only way
is through",
while I stare back
and whisper to you
"the only way
is through".

darling,
it hurts too much
to look up
and face the sunlight
with eyes
that've only
tasted the dark.

darling,
you love
sunlight.

Aug 7

Lyle

Rubber band

I started wearing a rubber band
Around my wrist
So I can send slicing pain
Through my arm when I didn’t feel okay
My wrist is swollen
White welts
But they won’t scar
That makes it okay

alia Aug 6

DON'T UNDERESTIMATE ME.

I HATE BEING UNDERESTIMATED.
ESPECIALLY BY MEN.

IF IM A WOMAN,
DOESN'T MEAN I CANT LEAD,
DOESN'T MEAN I CANT DO STUFF YOU GUYS CAN.

STOP UNDERESTIMATING US GIRLS.
SOME OF US ARE FCKIN TIRED OF IT.

might delete later.

alia Aug 6

Now you know.

So they showed y’all my words,
the ones I wrote in silence.
Now your voices finds mine again,
dressed in sorrys and “didn’t mean to’s.”

I nod. I smile. I accept.
But do you remember
those lunch breaks I spent
counting tiles
instead of laughs?

Do you recall
how loud y’all sounded
when I was sitting
just steps away?

It hurt.
Not in a loud, break-things way,
but in the soft,
I’ll be fine kind of ache
that echoes for days.

Maybe I just need space.
Or maybe I need to forget
how easily
I was made invisible.

Still,
it’s sweet,
how you care
now.

(…or whatever.)

Kind of a continuation for my poem “Trio in a Quadro”

Aug 6

Agnes de Lods

Lens

Carrying my truth.
I stand by my views,
watching through
my weakening gaze.

After a raging storm,
making peace with myself,
I vanish into the air,
my convictions fold with me.

Without simple answers,
wearing the new lens,
I see another world:
not clearer,
not wiser,
not safer,
…
just slightly shifted.

#lens