A Poet's Voice - Hello Poetry

Apr 2017

onlylovepoetry

Sunday morning lie-in,
she, ny times newspaper reading,
contentedly dress perusing-shopping,
in the bed both, but separated
by the distance of the electronic void

i am raven tapping poe poems on my diminutive IPhone,
twenty four inches distant from her lips

no notice taken of the man so overcome
writing his Sunday morn poems that are
drawn so deep from places
that make him so so so glad
good quality weeping
can be best performed silently

noticing that

- he writes best when writing of others, mostly, you

- he writes when the rented invisibility cloak covers his face
and
the wellspring offers him a choice;
write weep and tear
or
write weep and bawl
or just quit everything

whimsy laughs at his slo 'mo nonsense
his choices
this tough guy supporting a mountain of others,
the inversion of his inverted triangle,
him holding up the world

the worrisome grief that wears him down
best released in tears when writing about
you, go figger

and you notice stupid stuff
like why we use 'and' when it just ain't necesssry
how the core of 'believe' is lie
that ** ** ** rhymes with woe woe woe
and
that 24 inches is quite the distance when you are
** ** ** weeping and she don't notice

and how hard writing

only love poetry can be
even twenty four inches
from your nose

#olp #onlylovepoetry #24 #inches #silent #weeping

Apr 2017

Pax

commotion of emotions

In the weirdness of things I burn-out my own will
Begun to suffocate the breathless breathing.
Slowly I’m becoming dead,
the strength I held is not my own.
I still go on, like everything
didn’t seems to matter anymore.

In the commotion of emotions,
Fear is like fuel to my fire –
A spark that kept me block.
Lock on my own isolation,
prisoner of my own dominion.

I wish for the star to shine,
Yet it won’t glow for me,
Unlucky.

© Pax

this was the complete poem of this little piece:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/959592/a-star-wont-glow/
2014 - old work of mine. But there was a commotion of emotions this week, I was sick with Typhoid Fever, I've eating something cheap and gotten me sick. It was frustrating, so alone for two days, its hard even to eat something. when you're in abroad, living alone, its hard to get sick.. even with a roommate, they would not care for you unless your dying. SO i just slept it all up, still in the end you get up and fend for yourself, pick up your pieces even your body is at the weak state. I guess this is adult life with no one to lean on to. sigh..
Now I'm a little better.

#life #star #emotions #unlucky

Mar 2017

Denel Kessler

Pacific Drift

Eroding brick wall
all that remains
refracted, fading
fishermen shadow
red dawn’s early light

brackish still water
shocked violent green
seeps from the desert
to be subsumed
by an unrelenting sea

restless dreamers rise
muscle sturdy pangas
into the churning tide
seeking quicksilver
at the continental edges

returning boats ride low
the shrinking horizon
race to safe harbor
cold beer on ice
under palm palapas

in the restaurant
a young man
shows off tuna
half as tall as he is
to admiring tourists

like me, seeking
the deep, slow burn
salt, jalapeno, lime
a fitting end to this
unraveling dream

Pueblo Mágico
of “no bad days”
walls of contention
in a fractured land
will never separate us

one margarita, two
another raised in defiance
of those who would try
to confine and define
free-range spirits

the Pacific touches
this contiguous shore
from equator to pole
we could catch
a clockwise current

follow Polaris up North
arrive transformed
magnetically charged
disparate souls fused
together bound

Hello and thank you. my HP friends! I couldn't wish for a kinder, more talented group of people to spend time with. Thank you for being a part of my life. Apologies for sporadic reading...been drinking too many margaritas!
: )

#unity #mexico #pacific

Mar 2017

Onoma

Dog-eared Day-dream

Life, you're a broad enough word to

address this mere question:

why have you dreamt me so?

A wide-eyed clod outdone by a wider

grin, won't you tell?

You who'll dream the bones of me,

let on...spill the beans to your baby

boy.

I'm in fine condition to smooth the

flap of that dog-eared day-dream.

There's nothing I could offer you, is

there, a butterfly perhaps?

Aren't you the least tickled by the sly

prods of these questions, desirous as

they are...I suspect they beget more

dreams of me, best to shut up now.

Mar 2017

Ann Beaver

Paper

Your rules are wallpaper
Over the bars, the cage
Scratch a circle:
Sandpaper on the edges of a page
Your world is full
Of emptiness
Your world is a desert
With cacti blooming
In the meanwhile.

Mar 2017

Sally A Bayan

Caffeinated

Dinner is done
everyone's settled
the evening.....like the moon.....is full...
the weight of the night has itself eased into mine,
my expected moment of slumber...now distraught...
the Heavens are purpled
twilight drapes have fallen,
winds of March...bellow
.........my pillows
..............are hollowed
.......................by my elbows
......as a distant rooster crows........
i lie on my abdomen...legs swing back and forth,
catching inspiration, a word, a daydream...a thought,
i grab a pen falling, i grasp a journal, a book,
...............everything is within reach
but, not...the....long..................stretch
of hours....of a sleepless night...whence
....spiced...spiked...and sugared memories...
..........accompany me...and sail with me
.......as i cruise along this lethargic sea
'neath a silent dark, where aches are loudest
.........domed, by an unworded loneliness,
i am wearied by a flow, that is endless,
.....this minute...imagination is ceaseless
........i reach for my mug....but, it's empty
.........................i hear no liquid seething
this moment, a dark sea, should be brewing....
this hour, verses must be a river, overflowing,
...enfolding, this cool and starry, starry evening...
.......i am caffeinated....even without coffee....

Sally

Copyright March 23, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

(a nonsense poem, most of you might say
...... a new coffee poem...spun today...)

#coffee #fullmoon #caffeinated #starrynight #starrystarryevening #purpled

Mar 2017

phil roberts

SOMETHING WILD

When I was still young and fresh
A million years ago
I walked on edges
Always on the edge of something
Something wild

Bright lights and long nights
Lots of laughter and music
Always music
Singing with the band
Dodging the flying glass
When fights broke out
Howling to the moon
Oh, wild indeed were we

All shadows now, alas
Visions from an addled brain
Pubs, clubs and smoky dumps
Leave no turn unstoned was the cry
More fun than fundamental
And fundamentally flawed, it was
A couple of hours sleep 'fore the day job
With eye-lids stuck together
And walking into walls
But still I wouldn't have swapped it
For all the strait laced straight faced
Wealth in the world

By Phil Roberts

Mar 2017

onlylovepoetry

the greater fool?

the fool in love, or the fool
who pines for it?*

have I not sat at the King's table,
for decades of eons, eons of millennia,
the mealy taste of the poverty of loneliness,
made the sweetbitter
and the meaningless
blander still
full surrendering to slow starvation of my
humanity

denied the rise and set,
the watch and the calendar,
the sundial inoperable,
masters of none,
there are distinguishing marks
upon this victim,
who no longer recalls refusing
love

just another dusty bust
of a man tough as
plaster

the mask of
going it alone
so well adhering
no longer masked
but his first skin

unlike him,
love poems
waterfall self-destructing,
suicide by self-erosion
and thereby
an everlasting guarantee
the answer be
he
who pines
and dies a little bit
daily