My Absolute Favourites - Hello Poetry

Mar 2014

Sjr1000

Take me my darling
take me my love
take me
somewhere
I've never been before.
Take me my love
take me my darling
to a world
of make believe
where I can be you
and
you can be me
where surrender
is a victory
and
screams are whispers
of
"I love you".

Take me my darling
take me my love
give me all you know
or
ever knew.
Where we both have paid our dues.
and
have nothing to lose.
No more silence
no more rouge
all
masks are started a new
when I am kissing you.

Give me a circle
give me a square
give me a triangle
make me a dare
to face that fear.

Take me my darling
take me my love
take me on a voyage
and
leave me
there.

The sheets
are on the windows
to
protect the night from rising
sunlight
take me my darling
take me
there.

Mar 2014

Terry Collett

WAS IT.

Was it you
who touched
your mother's shoulder
that night
as she wept?

(I was drugged up
(sleeping pill),
so slept.

She finds
Mondays
the worst,
the day you died,
than the rest.

Cuts her up,
brings her
to a low ebb.

Saturdays are mine,
the day it all seemed
to go wrong,
two days before
your death,
the incompetence,
the mistakes
seemingly made;
things not done.

Was it you?
we deem it so.

The gentlest
of touches,
as she shed
her tears,
turned and saw
I slept
as she wept.

Grief comes
in waves,
high rushes
of it, sweeping
all before it
towards
the shores
of hurt and pain,
comes again
and again.

Who to count
the leaves
of grief's tree?

Who to count
the stars
of doubt
and death
and regret?

Was it you?
We think it so.

Gives her
a sense of relief
from the bites
of gnawing grief.

IN MEMORIAM OLE. 1984-2014.

Mar 2014

Nat Lipstadt

Skin

I am addicted to skin,
not a particular woman's skin,
all and every woman's skin

(stop here,

If you are uncomfortable,
with this writ, for me then,
it be a consoling poem,
an adoration of skin,
a comfort food,
that I cannot live without)

see what you cannot see,
inside this one's
brain-eyes-tongue-soul-whatever
whatever you name his five sense-sifting-all combination,
I don't care

I drink skin
all textures
all colors
every woman
every woman ageless
every woman street passing
touched and taken
no fabric but the
fabric of her skin
tween my thumb and forefinger
on my stippled senses
enlivened

I taste skin,
like a good poem,
the cheek, the shoulder bare,
the in between spaces,
the minty hint of décolleté,
the ankle chain,
turning my breath heated,
tips of red noses,
I take and
I keep
and no,
no refunds, no returns

I see
your skin, as a gift to myself
created, donated, by you,
and by me,
aggregated

tho you think I am selfish
I thank you always

I hear
you cells splitting,
rejuvenating,
you nourish,
I flourish

I smell your
skin-scented au naturel aroma,
and inward smile,
a parfume
named after me,
who knew?

you knew

stop enough!

softly, no, softly never enough...

every wrinkle, every blemish
every tablecloth of skin so
lovely set, so smooth glowing,
I weep,
I seep
inside
and
touch me touching you
and
for every cell of mine dying,
two of you,
two for you,
so you may live longer,
one of mine,
lingers
within you
evermore

you nourish,
I flourish

Sunday afternoon
March 23rd, 2014

#skin #lipstadt

Mar 2014

K Balachandran

The cave

Inside, the cave claimed them as hers,
a silence strangely suspicious of itself
holding back the urge to explode, whispered:
"Love at your age is dangerous, handle with care,
see its blade gleaming with desires
make sure, you don't hurt each other"

A wing moved, a swishing sound heard
they held breath for a moment,
felt the nostrils fill the strong stench
of droppings of colonies of bats.
But the love pair going higher on the rungs
found it nothing, but an olfactory diversion pleasant
a trigger to get closer, snuggle, deeply inhale
each other's many secret scents, little known before.

Outside the cave light prowled
like a jealous lover jilted by the beloved,
resenting darkness that dances with silence
inflaming the atmosphere, dense in desire,
--a love intoxicant discovered by him and his girl,

Standing on tip toe, she rubbed her lips to his
match stick and matchbox spoke in tones of hiss
fire emits in maiden's first kiss, he remembered
what was said, on his way to a narcotic stupor
he forgot all the rest, the bats, liquid darkness
the trouble they had sneaking out of houses,
duping the thousand eyes of an Indian village,
in vigil to keep a ******'s maidenhead intact.

Mar 2014

Jonny Angel

The Flavor of Loneliness

I only hear the chain clinking
under the endlessly spinning fan
& this continuous buzzing in my head.

I only see the light of my screen,
surrounded by the pitch of my room
& the veil of my solitude that covers me.

I only smell your memory in my mind,
of what once was really incredible
& what could have been so much greater.

I only touch myself privately,
the way you always did tenderly
& it's not nearly as good as you always did.

I only taste the abundant saline-drops
that carve deep lines down my sad face
& I know the flavor of loneliness,
remain starved for your affections.

Mar 2014

PrttyBrd

Perhaps

When the thought of an absence
tears at the spirit
leaving a vacuum in its place
Perhaps it shall be called love

When a life would freely
be given for another
without thought or hesitation
Perhaps it shall be called love

When the happiness of another
means more than ones own
Perhaps it shall be called love

When walking away is the only option
to allow for that happiness
Perhaps it too, shall be called love

32014

Mar 2014

John Ashton Upston

Just One

Superman can fly,
But I can love.

The Flash is fast,
But I can cry.

Batman always wins,
But I can lose.

The Hulk is strong,
But I am mortal.

God may be three,
But I am just one.

Mar 2014

Paul

if i had a hammer

if i had a hammer
i'd hammer in the morning
probably not in the evening
and definitely not all over this land

if i had a hammer
i'd be tools down around midday
but that's just me

Mar 2014

Jonny Angel

Once A Muse (Always A Muse)

The demands you made
left me shaking,
quivering in my
hard nail boots.
You sunk me with
your cuteness
& turned my heart
inside out.

You confused me,
gave it to me good,
then spit our wanton souls
back into my mouth
& once I tasted us,
I was never the same,
daydreaming
endlessly.

Perhaps
I'm a bit more insane,
drained of
my fiery-spirit,
forever spilling
thrilling words now.

Nevertheless,
I do confess,
I guess,
once a muse,
always a muse,
I'm wild & wooly
to jump your bones
again.

Mar 2014

PrttyBrd

I Am a Poet

I am a poet
And my world is my own
No ingestion of substance can compare

I am a poet
My senses I hone
How else can I color them to share

I am a poet
My pain is my pride
My wounds bleed raw on a page

I am a poet
My hope burns alive
Experiences transform me to a sage

I am a poet
I overflow with love
I accept all for who and what they are

I am a poet
Who needs not a shove
To weave a story in whimsy from afar

I am a poet
My passion rules the mind
However logical I pretend to be

I am a poet
I coax the words in kind
Filled with feelings only memory can see

I am a poet
I see the verse as yet untold
I bathe pages from the beauty of a look

I am a poet
My pen leads to my soul
There is intrigue in every shadowed nook

I am a poet

31614
I do believe I have been inspired by the glorious brainchild of Harriet Tecumsah Watt: You Know You're a poet when...