Genius Speaks - Hello Poetry

Aug 2017

Olivia A Keaton

It just occurred to me,
people don't want someone
with flaws.
Okay, let them try and find that person.
Wish them luck, but you should know,
and I should know and acknowledge
that those people don't exist.

"Boy it's awfully hard to find a rose,
without the thorns.
And who in their right mind wants
a perfect, harmless flower anyway?"

O.K

Aug 2017

phil roberts

AWKWARDLY DRAWN STILL LIFE

With magnificent indifference
The world swirls and eddies
And life ebbs and flows
Around my crusty head
But still this radiant illusion
Springs eternally hopeful
And leads us by the nose

Times of mysteries past flow
As the northern rain washes the days away
Into slick and glimmering colours
Without earthly reason
And this late in the season
Daffodils fade and die
And butterflies won't fly
In an awkward silent stillness

By Phil Roberts

Aug 2017

Jason Paul Klenetsky

The Roaming Man

He was just a roaming man
With nowhere left to go
Turning down a winding road
Searching for his home
Staring at the lives of which
He'll never know
Wondering how he ended up
So lost and all alone.

He hadn't had a sober day
Since the third day back in June
So lazy he couldn't pray to God
So he settled for the moon.
This man he had some big ideas
But never set a goal
The world just keeps on spinning 'round
Where it stops, nobody knows.

Some days are transparent
Others are cloudy filled with smog
He never had a best friend
Not even a dog
He just went through the motions
Alienating everybody within reach
Making mistake after mistake
He was one you couldn't reach

He wasn't very stupid
He wasn't very smart
It was clear that he was suffering
From a broken heart
Among some other things
Disappointed in his choices
Which direction leads to change?
Running around in circles
Stuck inside a maze
Seems I've been saying this for days
Lost his mind, he'd gone crazy
Stuck in ambiguity
Hidden in the leaves.

Aug 2017

Kikodinho Edward Alexandros

SOLITUDE IN THE WILD

Forlorn as a destitute child,
I wandered to the distant wild;
Through a peculiar lonelier wood,
Like a wave, roving as fast as I could.
Not long, I came by a myrtle river bank
Where early boughs grow wild and rank.

There my eyes kissed upon wild flowers,
All grandly dressed in neon colours,
Rhythmically whispering lullabies,
Ineffably upon velvety indigo skies,
Whilst swaying in a friskier dance,
That could render naked eyes in a trance.

At such a mesmerizing sight,
I drowned in a pool of sweet delight
Hence in wonderment shook my head,
And in a velvety voice whispered:
"Flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers
What brings about thy Ineffable colors?"

And all flowers smiled and smiled,
And exuberantly all thus replied:

"At dusk, when fair maidens of the night
Grandly dress in flocks, of burning bright;
And madly smiles about skies above,
Oh! Their opalscent eyes we flowers love:
So, from their pulchritudenous color;
So lies the mysteries of our allure."

At such a mesmerizing reply,
Sweet delight oozed from mine eye
Hence in wonderment shook my head,
And in a velvety voice whispered:
"Flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers
What brings about thy ineffable colors?"

And all flowers smiled and smiled,
And exuberantly all thus replied:

"At dawn, when the day's watchman
Doth weareth his novelty crown,
And treads upon yonder skies above,
Oh! His golden crown we flowers love:
So, from his pulchritudenous color;
So lies the mysteries of our allure."

At such a mesmerizing reply,
Sweet delight oozed from mine eye
Hence in wonderment shook my head,
And in a velvety voice whispered:
"Flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers
What brings about thy ineffable colors?"

And all flowers smiled and smiled,
And exuberantly all thus replied:

"When envious veils of dusk engulfs day,
Paving the fairest Empress way;
To grandly grace on yonder skies above,
Oh! Her rainbow robes we flowers love:
So, from her pulchritudenous colour;
So lies the mysteries of our allure."

At such a mesmerizing reply,
Sweet delight oozed from mine eye
Hence in wonderment shook my head,
And in a velvety voice whispered:
"Flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers
What brings about thy ineffable colors?"

'And all,' all flowers smiled and smiled;
I mean, smiled, smiled and smiled,
I say, smiled, smiled and smiled,
And happiness bloomed in the wild.

#bliss of solitude

©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
6th August 2017

Written many moons ago whilst in shadows of solitude on passing by beauteously beauteous wild flowers by the edge of a whispering rivulet, a rivulet that serpentines through the heart of a desolate wood in the far countryside whence I come.

Aug 2017

The Sick Red Carnation

Untitled

Being (silent/dim) at evenings
from the this mountaintop
Waiting for the singing image of the burning orb
Turned to the pathway of memories.
In a handful of wheat
There's another hand
A trenchant hilt
-like the diving of a hawk into the cloud-
Yeah
This is the way humans are.
Some people
Plant their seeds
in the rivers and the seas
as it doesn't grow,
Getting futilely
fatigued
in this fighting
against the rivers and the seas for years.
Some others, some sullen ones
standing in the rivers and seas
with the seeds in their hands,
They don't plant
The expect of the growth in that
wet trembling fingers turns to an *****.
They have been futilely
fatigued
in a fight against those they see as
spellbound foolish ones for years.
In me but there exists
a clever
depressed taciturn
scientist, knows all that can not
be done as the stone doesn't
know all that can be done.
This way
I know that all the rivers
in the world are fierce and spiteful
They even take away the corpus
of the plants and old trees.
Don't be deceived by their purl.
Giving them wheat ?!!
No
No wheat grains in trembling hands.
A man a knowing one should go
to the alp
Giving the wheat to the cloud.
The cloud
is the calm heavenly water
And it should know about the
melody of the sun
A trenchant sword is ready to harvest.
It comes back home, proud of
knowing with the glory of an
armful wheat
For the children's hand not being
empty of wheat.
The cloud of the grain field is
now a little far away from me
It may be arrived near my home
Surely my wife's arms would
smell as new baked bread when I
come back home.

Written by
Keikavoos Yakideh

please forgive me
for the bad translation
his poems have several meanings
and i translate it in my opinion with the help of my teacher
for example the word 'عصر' means: evening , time, era,period.... in our language and i am not sure which one is better here,silent evenings or silent times....and ''خاموش'' means silent, dim... even we can say dim evenings
i do not forgive myself...

Aug 2017

The Dedpoet

Therapy

I can't take it,
So I wrap it up
As a gift of words,
And poetry becomes
An emotion,
And I can be,
And I can live,
Here right now,
Poetry,
Life in words.

Aug 2017

chris

後ろ

you came up behind me,
wrapped your arms around
my neck and covered
my eyes with your hands.

"guess who?" you asked.

and how silly, i thought,
it was to think that i would
not know you by the
feeling of your heartbeat
against my back.

Aug 2017

everlasting cherry

our song of silence

with fingers for lips
he slipped underneath
deboning human skin
strung up my ribs on the ceiling
under which we dangled
femurs and phalanges
on super strings
chiming 3-part harmonics
on black galactic wind
him, me, Everything
tender clinks silencing
floored motionless flesh
I was not bones, nor skin
but oms inciting orbital dance
spinning with him invisibly
with heartlids pinned back
pounding the key of eternity