Well done - Hello Poetry

May 2015

Will Justus

Searching for the salty stinging
I find myself breathing deeply
The same lament I keep singing
While caged, I flutter weakly

"Beyond the hill, beyond the glen
Beyond the plains, beyond the fen
I hear her voice lilt and sway
And all my pain is washed away
She sings secrets no man may tell
Through the modest magic of a shell
Between the land, beneath the sky
O lover hear my lonesome cry
Sing out to me, the song of the sea
Draw me out where I should be
Among the waves, among the spray
Not in the cove, nor in the bay
Take me where I am free
Sing me back to the sea"

#freedom #water #song #ocean #sea #lament

May 2015

spysgrandson

I will bring you red apples (lament of the artist's husband)

I will bring you concord grapes,
for you like the color of them, and I the way
your cheeks move when your mouth
is full of them

I will cut the meat for you,
in thin slices, as razor narrow as the knife
will allow

the nurses tell me
to let you feed yourself
to gain your strength
back

but we, just you and I,
know your arms will become more flaccid
with each passing night, and no amount
of measured movement, will make
that right

I will make the soft cloth wet, warm
and caress the dirt away, for they scrub you
like palette or canvas, painted all wrong

I will brush your hair,
a hundred strokes each eve,
as you did, before your amber waves
turned wistful white, and your limbs
went limp

I will read you stories
of children at play, lads and lasses
who never grow gray

I will bring apples
for your wooden bowl
but we don't dare slice them
for they are there for us to watch
to help us remember red, round things,
beginnings, in a world before this room
of endless ending

Apr 2015

Shadow Paradox

Philosophy of The Anthophila Flower

~
I'm embedded in a honeycomb dream
Where golden bees with shiny onyx stripes,
buzz and vibrate

“Take me away”

I cry
But their TV eyes only reflect my sorrows
I'm burning in a flaming photosynthesis
****** into the ashes of unknowing

A metal proboscis stabs thru my head
They are killing the old me
Injecting new languages into my being
As carbon butterflies the color of life,
drink hope from my flower heart

I'm dressed in a pollen wedding dress
While sea green wings flap around me
My life is dedicated to nurture those that need me

I am an insect hive

I bloom in spring to swallow summer
Winter can't touch me
My palace is the Indigo Forest

You dare not pluck me
For my stem is a stinger
I belong here in the honey dirt
Blossoming and stretching my sheer webbed petals
Diamond sugar drips from my tip

Thick and sweet

No human tongue can taste
For its poison
You can look but you can't touch

The rare kiss of an Autumn bird with fiery wings
Will change me into a beautiful human
But the honey inside my skin will be toxin
My presents will sting like smoke

The rain shall transform me back
Where I belong

* -For false skin is like makeup
that can be easily washed off.-*
~

This was very difficult to write, the message is: Be comfortable in your skin, no one can be you. Hope you enjoy.

#beauty #confidence #insecurity

Apr 2015

Frank Russell

Masonic Bible

Surveying the large and burdensome
Masonic Holy Bible
Given to you decades ago
As a Brother of the Fraternity,
Left behind upon your death,

Amazed at the excellent condition
Of the text; the presentation
And family record pages blank...

One would think this a token volume
Meant only for in-home display
Until finding, scattered throughout
And clinging near the spine,
Dried and preserved clovers from
Distant summer days.

Four-leaf clovers, a couple hundred or more,
Gathered over the years from fields,
Hillsides numberless, and pressed
Into the arms of kings David and Solomon,
Mingled with Isaiah's prophecies and
Seeded about the Sermon on the Mount -
The great tome laced with leaves
Of discovery, welcome surprise, safekeeping.

Some may believe this a misuse
Of a sacred text, but perhaps
It is a testament to your disposition
That an oversized and weighty Holy Bible
Was made a repository of so many
Little verdant flags of good fortune.

- fr

Mar 2015

Scott Nitzberg

What a waste.

Lost,

in quiet reverie.

Lost,

in thoughts of you.

Lost,

the days of innocents,

before we knew the truth.

You promised it would change one day.

The spike no longer needed.

Entitled by the things you stole

****'s fuzzy way of reason.

You stole from family, stole from friends

whoever you encountered.

To keep the poison in your veins

was all that ever mattered.

Though beatings, bullets, jail time

you never missed a beat.

Whenever she was singing

the needles call was sweet.

There is no moral to this tale

A families loss comes quickly

an officers knock upon the door

And final rights are given.

#addiction #loss #family

Mar 2015

Ocean Blue

A Survivor

I survived:
My father's death, who left too early,
My mother's trip to the land of forever fog,
The loss of a child,
A few years in the Pool,
Swimming with gentle crocodiles,
The mountain trail somewhere East,
An angry crowd in Musutiste,
On the same day, the shelling in Studencane,
A few disappointments,
One recent betrayal,
And the black cloud nightmares.

I will survive:
The daily headache,
The selection at the Academy
The fading love,
The obsessive longing for Someone,
Yes, I will survive
It all.

So help me God.

Musutiste and Studencane on February 20th, 1999:
twice on that day, God decided it was not due time for me.

Mar 2015

K Balachandran

Jealous yoga

Cross legged
sitting in lotus pose
she blushes,swells
a white lotus
before the rising sun.
Palms are pressed
together in front
in a "Namaste"
to the divine, present
in everyone.
He is now just
some other, no special
eyes while closing tell.
How 'yoga' with the
higher self could exclude
amour's special privilege?
Adamant to reclaim it
between points of twin buds
his eyes vacillate,
her eyes closed shut, still
moves, lids peel a bit
lips curl and sent a hiss
like a hearty exhale
it sounded "decedent"

Nama(bow)+Te(you)--"Namaste"(meaning I bow the divine in you)
Yoga--join(communion with the cosmic consciousness, for which steps are totally eight, yoga postures are one among the eight)

#jealousy #sensuality #amour #communion #yoga #possessiveness

Mar 2015

bones

Dark-eyed poet

Dark-eyed poet
in the long night
come and burn
your time with me
let's set our whole lives
on fire tonight
and breathe each other's
smoking dreams..

Mar 2015

Amanda Miller

Red-Shifted

The moon shines a cool blue tonight
as we entwine our fingers, laying on the baseball field
beneath diamond heavens. We lie
in silence, in the moments when the Universe reveals
itself, and contemplate the distances between one celestial body to
another, the space between
us growing as I turn south
to find Orion while you seek Cassiopeia in the north.

Shooting stars cross the sky, and we wish separately on dead
stars and dead dreams, lights already grown red and extinguished
as we whisper in the dark, passing
between phases.

And in the end we're all left searching.

— The End —