hello: Favorites

Apr 2013 hello

Sylvia Frances Chan

Since I met you here, dear friend
I began to like this place a lot
at first sight it was eerie here
and the ground for me too hot

As I continued walking
upon untrodden paths
rotten fruit surrounding me
no bees or birds are singing

I wonder walking all alone
no sign of a living soul
all green softness disappeared,
and everywhere was stone

Wondering all the time, no shame
I found a clear chrystal ditch at last
if you will ask about the name
is that the present or in the past?

My head turning, my feet burning
they are to blurr my view
great bliss that pure water and some dew
wish that shall change my head from spinning

Then walking all the while with the same view
I see from far a green stip slowly coming
in seventh heaven am I, since it's a human being
I thank Thee on my naked knees, it is you my friend

I notice beauty yonder
the mockingbird and wren
have a duet together
I wonder since when

After I've met you, friend
I like this place a lot
it's not so eerie anymore
and God's blessings are on this spot

© Sylvia Frances Chan
27th April 2013

Poetry not my Death
but my Living
not my End but my Beginning

Apr 2013 hello

WM, a Dedication

Apr 2013 hello

Sylvia Frances Chan

WM, a Dedication

This Letter Poem WM is dedicated to Mr. Williamsji Maveli, our Masterpoet.
Why a dedication to him? These initials WM are his names.
Accidentally also the initials of the first name of our Dutch Crown prince Willem-Alexander.
The second initial is of his wife's first name: Máxima.

I want to write also about our Royal Family, since our Queen of the Netherlands Beatrix will abdicate next 30 April 2013 and at the same time Willem-Alexander and his wife will be crowned as King and Queen of the Nederlanden.

Now you know a bit about the Dutch Royal family.
Today Her Majesty Queen Beatrix is still Queen of de Nederlanden till next 30 April 2013.
These humble verse is for you, Williamsji. Please, enjoy!
Thank you for your attention.

Sincerely,
Sylvia Frances Chan.
******************************

This letter W stands for WILLIAMSJI
and the next letter, an M for MAVELI

This W par accidence is also the first letter
of our Crown prince WILLEM-ALEXANDER
on next 30 April WILLEM and his époussée, his wife MAXIMA
will be crowned King and Queen of Neerlandica

Usually our country is called Nederland
the foreigners call it mostly the Netherlands
the tourists a many of them prefer to say Holland
with your permission, this dedication, if I may
can also be used as introduction, what do you say?

WILLIAMSJI is the first name of our masterpoet
he creates poems mostly about sensuality
entwined in beauty, eroticism and love
when you'll read his poetry
you wouldn't see all those I've written about him above

Instead you must use your rational ability
in the lines throughout his verse
you won't find, of course not, all that worse
instead, you will enjoy all the beauty
of his master's talent writing about sensuality

His family name is also beautiful, MAVELI
well known as the masterpoet Williamsji Maveli
both are his true names belonging to Mr. Maveli
this M reminds me of MáXIMA,
Crown prince Willem-Alexander's wife in optima

Now you know why I dedicate this poem to you
your initials are quite the same as Willem and Máxima
WM is Williamsji Maveli the famous poet
WM is also Crown prince Willem-Alexander
and his wife Princess Máxima

Still one thing hasn't been told
today the 27th April is Willem-Alexander's birthday
he has become forty six years old
a good father of three daughters,
all their first names begin with an A
princess Amalia, Alexia and Ariane
their grandma is Her Majesty Queen Beatrix
she will abdicate after three and thirty years of reign

Dear Mr. Williamsji Maheli, our masterpoet
your initials WM are exactly the same as
our Crown prince Willem-Alexander
and his beloved wife Máxima

that's why I present this humble dedication
to you today as a small Dutch presentation

© Sylvia Frances Chan
27th April 1967-2013
Crown prince Willem-Alexander's 46th Birthday

Since 30th April 2013 has he become
the King of The Netherlands,
a small lowland at the Northsea
In Westeurope

Apr 2013 hello

A True Lover.

Apr 2013 hello

Nicole Wheat

A True Lover.

It kills me sometimes
-- sometimes how you say my name:
the harsh undertones
in your eyes,
-- sometimes how you speak with me:
shouting,
undermining,
belittling.
Sometimes how you love me
-- so passionately,
so truly,
undoubtably:
sometimes how you love me;
it kills me sometimes.

Apr 2013 hello

Moving On

Apr 2013 hello

Lupe Orozco

Moving On

I've always wondered if you think of me since you set me free
And if you ponder of who we could be
the times and years we shared and when you actually cared
Of our faded memories
Now my hardship days seem to be a haze and flow with ease
And after the times I felt so alone
The betrayal and knowing your never coming home
But i came to see that your not longer
the person i knew

You hold on to her with that blank stare

Oh your grey colored eyes
How they show so much lies
& suppressed emotions
that are in the back of your head
and in the darkest of our hearts
we know the truth that teared us apart

But you won't admit it anymore
because your heart is trapped in illusions, frustration,
and false conclusions

I hope she makes you happy
since your excuse to set me free was that you wanted to grow up and spread your wings
but in reality you wanted her instead of me

and after months of excruciating pain i realized that its okay
because I'm not the one who lost in your silly game

Apr 2013 hello

Allow me to burn.

Apr 2013 hello

River Elise

Allow me to burn.

Drag me home by my stretching wrists
To my long lost severed sister
My soul, for I am the unsuccessful lover.
Contorting and thrashing
I ignite underneath you
Smothered in flames I rise,
Spitting out ash.
They whisper, “don’t get too close.”
I laugh.

The quiet impulse to exist
Contains my wild thoughts.
A jar full of butterflies
And you shake them all up.
They’ll turn on the hose
And each take a turn.
I am the daughter of dry lust,
Allow me to burn.

Apr 2013 hello

who am i?

Apr 2013 hello

lia nicole vaillancourt

who am i?

i am not just a pretty face and i am not just my sadness.
i am a question that has no answer.
i am a more than a collection of mistakes. i am a collection of words and photographs and more than a few good stories.
i am laughter and sarcasm and tears. a rebel with a forgotten cause.
i am compassion.
i am at once caring too much and too little. the world has never been enough for me.
i am forever picking up the pieces, forever apologizing even when i’m right.
i am a collision of mind and circumstance. a million bad memories set on repeat.
i am one long, sad requiem. i am the soundtrack to my days.
i am dismal, haunting images of regret. i strive to be part of the beauty around me.
i am a writer. i am a free mind with a shackled soul.
i am no one’s enemy and no one’s friend. i am alone and always have been.
i am jealousy and fear.
i am disappointment to myself and to those who knew me then.
i am a wrong turn and a snap decision.
i am selfish and guilty and i don’t know why.
i am unconvinced of everything. i am doubtful, disheveled, and disproportionately hopeful.
i am a creator of life and a healer of ills. i cry every day for what i’ve lost.
i am forever searching and i’ll never find it. i take comfort in the thought of the universe.
i am but a fleeting phantasm in this brief reality

Apr 2013 hello

Rude Awakenings

Apr 2013 hello

Jenny Neuman

Rude Awakenings

Wake up, wake up
From your drug-induced dream
Stitching cinders between the seams
Unravelling through every scream

Wake up
From your vain, comatose state
Mistaking folly for fate
And taking all evil’s bait

Wake up
Before the darkness kidnaps you
With hardly any ransom due
While still corrupting fair and true

Wake up
Look through the humid haze
Into a forgotten face’s gaze
Selling more than just a blaze

Wake up
Let go of every word
Break the silence that you’ve heard
See the lines that have been blurred

Wake up
Can you hear me?
Wake up

Apr 2013 hello

The Corner of Newbury Street (written as spoken word poem)

Apr 2013 hello

Jenny Neuman

The Corner of Newbury Street (written as spoken word poem)

Yesterday, while waiting for a bus on the corner of Newbury Street
I found God.
She carried a burlap sack over her shoulder a map of the world in her right hand and a bottle of whiskey in her left.
She asks me where I’m headed and I tell her I’m running.
She tells me she is too
She says: “ It all started when I was a kid, I held the solar system in my palm and took the colors from the palette of galaxies and finger painted the Earth.”
I took something that was nothing and made it everything.
And every day since, this world has thinned me.
Asking too much out of something too little.
I fear the darkness that was created from the light I produced.
Some days, all my body can do is act like the Earth and tremble.
And in the deepest hour, my heart grew heavier than the sky that watches us all so I let it go.
I let the pain rain down like morning dew getting caught on people’s cheekbones.

I want to purify the air and our oxygen of all that is unjust in every atom.
When I look into your eyes I see bigots,
I see sexists,
And killers
And I want to want to rid our days of the night but I can’t.
So instead, I hit children.
May they stay forever full of laughter and light
Of pigtails and play-doh and gummy worms and popsicle sticks.
white dresses and untied shoelaces.
In a world where guns double for dignity
Where love is a receipt
Where self-worth is measured by grade point average.
Dare not the dark fault their fair eyes.
Dare their souls not fall victim to the tainted being that is our sleepless nights and alleviated anguish.
When I look into your eyes, I see hate. But when I look through them, a see a child.
And so I lose myself on the bench of a bus stop on the corner of Newbury street.
Watching the world tumble down like a toddler learning to climb a staircase.
In my absence, the polluted cloud that makes its bed on our sky dissipates among the rain storms.
Should you run, you steal light from this fading life.

And I say to her
Show me how to be the bravery I ever so seldom see in the world.
I wanna lift bridges with poems
And I wanna lift poems out of my warm breath.

And she tells me

What rocky roads you have in front of you.
What hands you have yet to hold.
But I’ll tell you one thing
You’re already something
And something’s better than nothing
And that is everything.