Daily Meditations - Hello Poetry

Jun 2016

Randolph Llewellyn Wilson

She is the first warmth of the new day as morning dew envelopes my exposed , quickened skin
A curious glance toward blue ambiance shelving mustering
prose to the God given natural holiday
Wildflower fragrant recovery , echoes of worked Earth , White Hereford
relaying the Dawn call to order
The business of man , plant and animal unfurled
Days of songbird early cacophony brought to steady relief
across pearl homesteads , cattle trails and country lanes

Jun 2016

Chris G Vaillancourt

When You Die, It Will Be Your Dreams That Are Remembered

Lucid dreaming is the doorway
        to the unconscious.
So dream.
Do not stay closed
        behind cement barricades
        blocking the moon
        from shining.
Live.
Each second is for you.
The tumbling of life
         does not promise
            anything.
In one breath
you can have
        a time table
        handed to you.
A distinct framework
        of how much
        longer you shall be.
Stay in illusion.
Keep in mind
that very little
is worthy of
being screamed about.
Politics
        and
people games
        are not
         the substance
        of existing.
Picture colourful images
         that flutter
          playfully
            across the
           mental horizon.
A traffic light
      will
       blink
red, yellow, green.
A noise
        will dominate
         the shading sky.
These mean nothing.
Moments of distraction
        soon
         gone away.
Focus on fantasy.
Allow yourself
the freedom to
         celebrate
        the essence
        of harmony.
When you die,
       it will be
         your dreams
         that are
          remembered.
Breathe.
It's just
      a bad day,
      not a bad life.

Jun 2016

Traveler

IN THE DARK CAVES OF MIND

In the dark caves of mind
Where light is uninformed
The place where xenophobia
By superstitions born

With a quickness of heart
An opinion is formed
A judgment is rendered
A sentence is sworn

An observation can be fleeting
   With a lack of evidence...
Still
The condemnation imprints deeply
    In complete irrelevance...

Unfortunately
In the dark caves of mind
An open heart can be quite hard
   To find...

Traveler Tim
re to 02-18

Jun 2016

spysgrandson

100,642

the highway on which you escape
has a placard, green with destinations:
90 miles, 140

the 50 asphalt measures between the two
raw with hope, or despair, depending on who is there, flying past stubborn mesquite, doomed steers, and sagging shacks with graveyard stories

you always return,
not having found what
you never lost

the sign coming back
on the same tarred trail
tells how many there are, of you,
one hundred thousand, six hundred, forty two
though you may be only one who knew
you departed, maybe

tomorrow another you
will crank the engine and turn the wheel,
accelerate while you still can, until your gas
burns out, or the road rips a bald tire,
a ruptured reminder you can't
leave it all behind

#hope #loss #despair #loneliness #futility #return #histories

Jun 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

The Dead Poet

Much adored is the dead poet

Within the glass case
Away from dirt
Amongst the books pressed
Rests his heart

Such was the silence he dreamed
When words streamed
Like riverine flow
In all might arose
Seeking the order in chaos

Orderly bound now his name
In peace standing behind wooden frame
Yet with the ceaseless commotion of wait...

Much adored rests the dead poet.

Jun 2016

Traveler

WHAT LIVING CAN BE WORTH

If you could peer
Through these cracks in my heart
With those eyes that look away
Or touch the calluses
Of my lost hopes and dreams
Of compromise repaid

If you could lift uncertainty
In a state of brokenness
Hold your breath a hundred years
Would you consider it a gift?

If you could live your final days
In heaven right here on earth
Than you would have realized
What holding on
To living can be worth...

Traveler Tim

Jun 2016

Helen

Wishing It All Away

Just...Stop

Stop wishing away the lines on your face.
Every line means you smiled!
Stop wishing away your stretch marks.
For every one of them there is a grateful child.
Stop wishing away those extra pounds.
It means you have food to eat.
Stop wishing away your corns and bunions.
It means you have shoes to put upon your feet.
Stop wishing away your grey hair!
It means you've had many years to enjoy life.
Stop wishing away imperfections,
perceived by others lies.
There is someone out there
who sees you
as perfect in their eyes!
Badges of Courage!
Not shame.
Please...
Stop wishing them away.

Jun 2016

SøułSurvivør

a poet i never read

a poet i did not know
i sail through life blithely
mouthing prayers
but do i show
the love of God Or do i
forget it as i go

a poet i did not read
a poet who passed on
joining the ranks in heaven
yes, that mighty throng
does he look down
and smile on us
now that he is gone?

a poet i did not read
a poet who knew Christ
perhaps better than myself
when cut comes to slice
perhaps now i'll
know meaning
i'll take my
own advice

the advice i give my family
the advice i give my friends
you never know the poem

until

the

poem

ends

SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/8/2016

R.I.P.
Chris G Valliencourt

please read
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1653116/poem
/when-you-die-it-will-be-your-dreams-that-
are-remembered/

Please. Let's love each other.
Put aside our differences today
in honor of Chris.

I think he would like that.

I will be off site today for a while.
I'm going back to my wellness camp.

#love #prayer #life #god #death #dreams #jesus #christ #united #hpfriends

Jun 2016

Francie Lynch

Fourteen Billion

Fourteen billion isn't big anymore.
For some, it's chicken feed.
When big business and governement
Talk finances, it's chump change.
It's smaller now.
Why only fourteen billion years ago
We exploded, were carried by stellar winds,
Along with every atom for every star;
For every one of us together,
Equal and indestructable.
We travelled, unknowingly, at light speed,
With family, friends and strangers,
To unknown destinations,
Through the dark,
Into the light,
Into life.
Fourteen billion years is really nothing.
There are no atoms in boundary lines.
We shouldn't let a few billion years
Come between us.

#friends #aggression #racism #nations

Jun 2016

S Smoothie

That thing we do

Once again thoughts run haywire
overun by you
mind crackles alive with alternative universes.
Or cracks we could slip through and melt together.

-----

Searching for an exit its too late
Nothing but the inevitable longing of home

----

Warm eyes melt away the distance
As always,
time has no meaning for us,
it only passes drawing circles around us
dragging with it destiny's indelicate strings into knots of fate
That only seem to tighten

----

Resistance is futile
Fate has consipired
face to face again
Heart to heart,
Soul to soul.

----

Old wounds fade
A new pain rises
The inevitable nothing
Another lifetime of longing
Two steps away
And aeons apart

----

A tangled mess of miss-timed,out of tune
love symphanies
That inevitably end apart

----

What else is there to do
But to spend endless aeons in your eyes
And capture long lived memories
Of an ancient past
Where everything was held in eachothers arms

-----

The Gods decreed no
Setting our pawns in motion
But there are no other obidences
In our soul's hearts
Despite our best intentions
It seems we can never be
Truly drawn apart

----

Let the emotions fall
Through the guard veils
Let the hidden energy of our souls
mingle in eacothers atmophere
To be in this moment,
In all the gloriousness of love
The truest kind
The kind for all ages to come
Ours.

Jun 2016

Chris G Vaillancourt

Float The Balloons In The Winds Of Flying Illusions

We are soldiers joined in battle.
Fighting a war, fighting a war.
We belong to one healing centre.
Fighting dying, fighting dying.

Tubes
and
needles
are
our
weapons.
Pills
our
defence
against
the
enemy.

The light shines in my eyes.
The bed I am on is comfort.
In my thought processes
are the many situations
I've collected in this life.

It's not been too bad,
this past I review.
There have been
some disappointments.
Not uncommon
nor unexpected.
But the happiness
outweighs
the
tears.
The
melodies
pleasant
to
the
ears.

I suppose I am ready
to be with my comrades
in the Armageddon of
this unholy war.

We are champions of pain.
Joining forces, joining forces.
We march in determination.
In our hearts, in our hearts.

Some of us shall fall
in this ongoing struggle.
We
shall
mourn
their
deaths
and
celebrate
their
courage.
Carry on beating the
drums of resistance.
Carry on hoping
for victories to be.
And
if
I
join
the
defeated,
if
I
die
before
my
time;
remember
that
I
tried
to
float the balloons
in the winds
of flying illusions.
Look for me
in
the
air.