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 Nov 2015
Stella Cleere
I cannot help but feel
that we are not meant to contain this
that we are but shallow vessels,
because it hurts me so to look at you.

It hurts to see you run both hands through your hair
to see those crooked bottom teeth
to be in the gaze of eyes that change colour on the hour.

A deep ache
that resides in place
I could not hope to reach
in order to remove any thoughts of you
and I do not think I would wish to.
 Nov 2015
Stella Cleere
I cannot help but feel
that we are not meant to contain this
that we are but shallow vessels,
because it hurts me so to look at you.

It hurts to see you run both hands through your hair
to see those crooked bottom teeth
to be in the gaze of eyes that change colour on the hour.

A deep ache
that resides in place
I could not hope to reach
in order to remove any thoughts of you
and I do not think I would wish to.
 Nov 2015
ryn
Hear ye!
Hear ye!
Oh how I love concrete poetry!
Itching to write and sculpt and mould.
Twiddle my thumbs as I thought to myself silently.
Reckon I'd render my musings in italics and in bold!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!
30 days of concrete, wouldn't you fancy?!
These poems, they come in various shapes.
Would you consider them "poetic eye candy"?
If I fashioned poems to look like grapes!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!
Awashed with excitement!
I can't wait to share!
Fantastical, delicious and ultimately succulent!
A wonderful spread of such wordy fare!

Hear ye!
Hear ye!*
When is this... GREAT BIG AFFAIR?
On the morrow, I'll dish out the first serving!
Do tune in if you so do care...
30 days of concrete! The shape fest is beginning!
Greetings! I will be posting a concrete poem each day for the next 30 days. It's a huge undertaking and I'm really pumped up about it! Stay tuned... :)
.
Dear political parties, please stop arguing with other parties and save the nation, the time you wanted our votes you made empty promises .

Service delivery is your daily message,employment is a frog song,water and sanitation is your bed you lay on it.

Where is that promises you made,most of orphans are starving, where is that food parcels.

Opposition parties please stop opening your mouth,you were on that party the time that corruption took place, you always talk and talk but none of the things you fix if is not civil war.

If you were having good promise why don't you help those who are staying in sharks,so that you can talk what you know.

We are all living in Africa,let's not point fingers and do the Job we all given by God,we can not sleep and wake up with grass in our hand .

Together let's join our hands and move Africa forward, this is not Africa for parties is Africa for all, the is no other government the government is you.
 Oct 2015
r
Hello Poets.
I received a copy yesterday of my good friend Timothy's new book "Reflections in Short Poetry". An excellent book with some of Timothy's finest poems.  Many of you are already familiar with his work. The book is very affordable and now available at lulu.com (by Timothy Salter). I highly recommend it. Congrats to Timothy for getting off of his **** and doing what many of us would like to do. Check his work out here at HP, too, if you aren't already familiar with his writing.

r
Reflections in Short Poetry, by Timothy Salter, at lulu.com
 Oct 2015
Nat Lipstadt
A Birthday Poem for Sally B:
what-matters-can-neither-be-created-or-destroyed

~~~

the principal thing about principles,
like the concept of time,
that in time, with time,
they come to reflect our
immutable essence's own best reflection,
come only, round or square
come only, too little too late
come, too much too soon

so the simpler, the better,
so the matter
of what really matters
needs capture in some
capsulated summary form,
a daily vitamin for the soul

so I thank you for
the gift
of your birthday,
the anibersaryo of a day of naissance,
this one solo, kakaiba,
among the many,
a present presented to the world

*so on this particular day,
we must thank you
for the wonder of wonder
that justifies existence,
for what truly matters

cannot be created or destroyed,

and your matter, mass,
your presence's  Grace upon this earth,
graces the hearts of thousands,
today and forevermore

this is what matters and
can never be recreated,
can never be destroyed...

~~~
Oct. 24, 2015
6:24 am
dispatched from NYC
~~~
Oct 6, 2013      October 20, 2013
The Banyan Tree (A Tribute to Sally)
I am a man, grandfather to four.
Adherent to the same religion,
Poetry.

Breathing through mine eyes,
Exhaling carbon words,
That with time and pressure become
Poems, verbal musical notes upon life.

Each motion, from tiny to grand,
A capsule of expression,
That if examined under microscope,
Familial DNA, interconnected tissue,
Discovered, tho logic says,  
Time and distance render impossible.

But this is a diamond
This is a writ to be slipped
Upon the finger, the heart, the essence,
Of the only Banyan tree I have hugged.

This poem but a fig,
In the cracks of kindness,
The crevices of caring,
It has slow germinated.

You dear, Sally,
My host,
A building upon I can lean,
When wearied spirits uproot
My surficial composure.

Your seeds carried from east to west,
By a fig wasp, a bird unknown,
An ocean voyager, of indisputable vision, strength.

This seeded messenger, word carrier,
Supplanted in me, and your pupils,
Jose-Bolima-Remillan
Xavier-Paolo-Joshh-Mandrez
Whose very names breathe poems,
in others too, like me and Atu,
Seeds to become new roots, but you,
Our Host official and forever
Planter of trees of loving kindness.

You already know with love and affection,
I call you Grandma Sally,
And when you ask, beseech,
I cannot refuse.

Together we will will banish the sad,
Acknowledge we, that life's ocean,
A mixture of many, even sad, a necessity.

But I promise that will turn it into
Something simple, something good.
For you have asked and I answer you
Right here right now - your wish,
My objective, deep rooted like you,
Like an old banyan tree,
Your roots spread far, spread wide.

So some eve, when to the beach, to the sky
You glance, smile, no matter what, troubles dispersed,
For the reflection of you, seeds, full fledged trees now,
Bending skywards, in search of your rays of expression,
Your maternal wisdom rooted, spread so wide, globally,
All over this Earth, is visible from your
Beloved Philippines.


---------------------------------------
In her own words..

I am a widow,
with five remarkable granddaughters....
all beautiful, intelligent girls.
It is such a waste not to write....
each morning that unfolds is filled
with things to write about....
the people, the birds,
the trees, the wind,
the seas,
everything we set our eyes on,
they are all
poetry in motion.
Life itself is poetry,
I always have pen and paper within reach.
My past experiences are a
never-ending source
of ideas and words for my poems....
I shall write until time permits me,
"til there's breath within me."
-------------------------------------------------
A banyan (also banian) is a fig that starts its life as an epiphyte (a plant growing on another plant) when its seeds germinate in the cracks and crevices on a host tree (or on structures like buildings and bridges). "Banyan" often refers specifically to the Indian banyan or Ficus benghalensis, the national tree of India,[1] though the term has been generalized to include all figs that share a characteristic life cycle...
Like other fig species (which includes the common edible fig Ficus carica), banyans have unique fruit structures and are dependent on fig wasps for reproduction. The seeds of banyans are dispersed by fruit-eating birds. The seeds germinate and send down roots towards the ground.

The leaves of the banyan tree are large, leathery, glossy green and elliptical in shape. Like most fig-trees, the leaf bud is covered by two large scales. As the leaf develops the scales fall. Young leaves have an attractive reddish tinge.[6]

Older banyan trees are characterized by their aerial prop roots that grow into thick woody trunks which, with age, can become indistinguishable from the main trunk. The original support tree can sometimes die, so that the banyan becomes a "columnar tree" with a hollow central core. Old trees can spread out laterally using these prop roots to cover a wide area.
 Oct 2015
Mike Hauser
Received my copy of Timothy's first book of poetry today (Reflections in Short Poetry) and am already thoroughly enjoying it! There's nothing like having pages to turn...
It's pictured in my cover photo and can be purchased from lulu.com.
Thank you to Timothy for this wonderful book!
 Oct 2015
James M Vines
I call on you to join with me. I ask you to help your fellow man. In a rain storm give someone shelter. In the snow make them a warm place to sleep. In the heat of the day give them a shade where they can rest. When they are lonely give them a friend. Offer your extra change to buy someone a meal. Let them know that you care, show them how kindness feels. Remember your neighbor who has no one, stop by to say hello. Drive out the darkness and the loneliness, let true mercy show. Together we can make a change in humanity one kind act at a time. If you join me we can make things better, through kindness and caring and bring the world hope once again.
There is no body who can lie like a person who want to sleep with you, they can promise you heaven and earth mean while they don't have money to buy themselves underparts.

believe me men's are criminals they can steal your viginity and let you linger around the world with no values ,they can left you with tears and celebrate that they got your juice and they ended it,or they can left you like a Prado with its wheel at the back and watch how beautiful you can be after that.

your body is precious don't let anyone play your mind like a team that play same ball and what happens when it burst they through it away and get a new one, so your life  is worth than opening your legs.

why because you will be treated like a piece of toilet paper where everyone pass and use it and after that is useless, please girls, don't say I didn't warn you.

I would like to remind those who lost their viginity that the is a time to regain it,just stand your ground and speak out,my body is a temple of God and so if you want me,merry me,we are not animals to sleep around.

because the more you bow for men's is the more they trap you like a rat and ****** transmitted diseas  will be your risk,nature is nature but without respect is a disaster, keep your skirts tied or your trousers zip closed please.
 Oct 2015
Melissa S
First Degree** ~ For the love of good food and drink. I love watching people eat the food that I have prepared and really enjoy it. This time of year is also very special with all the fall aromas in the kitchen and all around. I love mixing fire whiskey with an apple flavored beer Mmm so good.

Second Degree ~ The love of nature and our furry little friends. The unconditional love they have for us is amazing. I love all the euphoric senses of nature.  Watching a beautiful sunset or leaves turning colors, listening to birds sing their hearts out, tasting a snowflake as it falls on our tongue, feeling sand and water on your toes, and smelling the crispness of fall air and the smell of seasoned firewood.

Third Degree ~ For the Love of Poetry. We poets see the world differently.  We choose how we want to see it and our own reality of it. We can see things in fantasy or the factual. The world is our playground and we are constantly at play and being creative.

Fourth Degree ~ The love of family and friends. Having two beautiful wonderful souls as my sisters.  They are my best friends. My son having grandparents and cousins galore who adore him. My friends and family have helped me in so many ways and it's always good to reciprocate when possible. I love the feeling I get when I can help someone.

Fifth Degree ~ The love of a spouse. Your other half. When both people are in tune with each other they can make beautiful music. This is a work in progress for me. We have our good and our bad days but the love is there no doubt.

Sixth Degree ~ The love that I have for my child. This one is the easiest and the best love for me.  I wrote this when my son was born-
The one thing I will never lose touch with is that sweet little face looking up at me. No single word not even Love could possibly be enough for what I feel, nor will it ever be.

Seventh Degree~ The Love of God. I would not be able to experience any of these other degrees without this one first. He has seen me at my lowest and yet has still loved me. The love of god is full of grace and mercy.
This is my list to my happiness. I want to encourage you all to make your own lists. I want to see them.
 Oct 2015
Helen
there is an initiative
on Facebbok
for the Black Dot
to be displayed on a palm
of those suffering with
Domestic Violence
who can't speak to you
because the cause of their angst
is standing behind them
fist raised, aim true
they're not allowed
to speak to you
but if you see that
Black dot,
and their eyes are bleeding
at you, please call the police
if you know them, if you don't
ask for their phone number
which is traceable too.

Supportive entirely
to that end
I propose an initiative
in support of a Blue Dot
a dot on the hand, of those
that suffer just as quietly
every single day
Those that live in denial
those they love and live for
might get better some day
I would like to place
a Blue Dot
on both my palms
and any who see it
on me
would just hold my hand
in theirs
letting me feel a connection
Knowing they understand

Black Dot/Blue
unable to speak truth
there is no doubt
Suffering is a real thing
the coloured dot
needs you to reach out
I wish the Blue Dot was a real thing (for me) I wish harder the Black Dot becomes famous internationally, and Domestic Violence is not just a SHE thing, we need to listen to the Males too...
I was in a car accident in September.
I suffered a severe concussion.
Though my body is rattled and
bruised, I believe will heal fine.
I am getting extensive therapy
and treatment.
My brain on the other hand is having
a bit more difficulty pulling it together.
Words don't line up, thoughts are
confused jumbles of messy patterns
that don't make sense sometimes.
This is very scary to me.
As I write everything on my tablet
or my android phone, looking at the
screen hurts my eyes and my brain.
I am very sad as of late. Have been
crying (more than usual). Head
hurts all the time. Getting lost a lot,
like when I drive etc etc etc. Writing
backwards. Everything written,
looks like it is at a slant (yuck).
And I have developed a Very significant,  
interesting stutter. Fascinating really...
All I want to do is sleep...
(which I have become very good at)
and to be held...
(just isn't in the mix right now).

I may try reposting some of my
old work at this time, until I'm better.
I will do my best to check in on the Dailies. 
I need to stay away from reading and
commenting. : ((  : ((  : ((   At least for now.
I am Sure, I Will Get Better!!!
☆●♡♢♡●☆

I need you all to know how much
I've come to Love and Appreciate my HP Family.
One of the best gifts I have given
Myself. Also, I am trying to join
Kalypso and Gang with Our collection
of Poems on Sound Cloud.
If I can ever figure it out
♡ Peace and Love ♡
▪○●☆♡♢♡☆●○▪
Christi~ MoonFlower~ Fluer de Luna
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