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 Dec 2017
The Noose
I haven't really laughed since 2009
He said,
He then divulged his struggles
As did I
We spoke of the mutual regret about not keeping in touch
But with conflicting schedules, relocations and studies
It is comprehensible we veered in opposite directions and lost contact

My estranged bestfriend

We reminiscenced about the time when we were school kids
In stiff shirts, massive floppy hats
And giant blazers we practically drowned in
How eager we were to go home
When the siren went off at 3:05pm
The shanenigans at the pavilion
In sixth form
When we were the lords of the academy

A strong grip on my giant mug as if it were the holy grail
Huddled in the corner of a cozy eatery

In his company once again
it felt as though I had arrived home where fire burns incessantly in the fire place
On a winter's night

We laughed about my truancy
And how he got kicked out of the rugby team on account of his rather lanky physique
He imitated our biology teacher and tears flowed down my cheeks
That kind of laughter
You feel in your core
And your whole body shakes

So captivated by the various discussions
We both forgot to sip on our steaming beverages

He narrated a few short stories about the events
that have taken place since we last conversed
I in turn narrated mine or lack thereof
He emphatically tilted his head to the side
God, I had missed those gestures of his
It all came flooding back
His mannerisms
The way he moves his hands when he speaks  as if he is trying to literally hold the conversation

For what seemed like a lifetime
Before saying goodbye
Dead-eyed
We stared into each other's eyes
Almost as if to telepathically say
Do you remember the time
When we were so alive.
Feeling nostalgic about old inks, home and the familiar. I originally titled it "Do you remember the time"
 Aug 2014
Tatiana
Hello sadness,
that comes and flows
like dark waters
full of rip tides.

I'm worlds away
drowning in the waters,
that are deep and churning,
i'm struggling to come back up.

I see the light that is the surface,
the only thing that keeps me swimming,
instead of sinking to the bottom,
like a rock.

A rock that has been carelessly thrown into the water,
never looked at,
never discovering the crystals within,
for they wouldn't rub away the dirt.

It's the light that's inside that pushes me upwards,
it prevents me from drowning.
It's the light on the surface that is my goal.
It's the light that gives me hope.

And hope makes me float.

I break free of the waters that held me back
and I want to join the light
as it dances on the surface,
asking me to dance with it.

Now I dance above the waters
that wanted to drown me.
But they are still there,
never leaving.

The waters won't leave me,
they're just waiting for me
to fall into their grip.
Their cold, tight grip.

But to me, it's okay.

For if there is one thing I learned,
is that if there is light dancing above the water,
I should swim upwards,
and join it.

For hope will always keep me afloat,
*even in the darkest waters.
I started this poem in the month of May. The only thing I had was the very first line, "Hello sadness" I have been reading through some poems lately and I noticed Timothy's poem "Depression" and I went straight to these two words and I just wrote. It's interesting what inspires you sometimes... Anyways, here is the poem that inspired me, http://hellopoetry.com/poem/816288/depression/ and I would like to say this to Timothy: Thank you for being an inspiration and a wonderful person to talk to whether it be about poetry or about problems. I hope that you're bout of depression passes quickly and I hope that maybe this poem shines a little bit of light on you and encourages you to dance with the light again. :) I also would like to say to the rest of you're little family: Hilda and Marian, you are wonderful people and I wish the same for the both of you, that you always continue to dance in the light and hang on to the hope and the happiness that is in your lives. :) For all three of you are a huge inspiration to me.
And to everyone else that reads my poems: You are all inspirations too, for if it wasn't for any of you, I wouldn't have kept writing, and on that note... You all will have to get used to me again because I'm back and I don't plan on going anywhere soon. :p <3
 Apr 2014
J
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.
^^^let us live through our poetry
 Apr 2014
Weasel
Roses always wither
Before I've even had
A chance to enjoy them
Which usually makes
The Weasel feel like cryin'

{ Weasel }
This poem is true!
I have always noticed that roses wither too quickly.
Thanks for reading.
Poem 13
© The Weasel
All rights reserved.
 Mar 2014
Kaitlyn Marie
like a rose
trampled on the ground
a beautiful delicacy
that has been ignored
not yet found
like a rose
vibrant in all ways
full of potential
who lives its own kind of way
like a rose*
we are all like a rose
@Copyright Kaitlyn Marie
 Mar 2014
Marian
A very sweet girl
A new friend of mine
One I do hold dear
She loves pets too
Wrote a heartwarming poem
For me and Lady Jane
So we three are good friends
A group of girls
Merry laughter and happy giggles
Sound across the air
And fade in the distance
Mixing with the song of a violin
Such a lovely symphony
I am playing for her
Hoping against hope
It makes her smile

*~Marian~
Hope you like this, KatRose!!! :) ~~~~~<3
Expect two more poems!! (: ~~~~<3
You should check out KatRose's poems!!! :)
Here's the link to her page:
http://hellopoetry.com/KatRose/
Hope you all enjoy this poem...especially you, Kat!!! :) ~~~~<3
 Mar 2014
Sydney Victoria
A Sky Of Melted Butter,
Harbors The Setting Sun,
Suspending It Above,
Flustered Waves Of Blue

I Smell Like The Sea

The Sails Against The Sky,
Have Turned To Silhouettes,
The Gentle Waves Caressing,
The Edge Of The Horizon  

I Taste Like The Sun

Seabirds Have Flocked Together,
And Are Now Flying Back To Shore,
Slumber Has Teased Their Eyelids,
For The Jaded Waters Are Vast

I Look Like The Stars

The Moon Has Floated Upwards,
Casting An Ivory Shadow Below,
The Wind Has Now Become Calm,
The Blue Waves Have Become Still

I Sound Like The Breeze

The Salt Encrusted Wind Cooled;
The Sky Was No Longer Gold,
Sails No Longer Dragged Their Cargo,
Across The Blackest Of Ocean Waters

If You Were To Touch My Soul,
You Would Only Grasp A Word.


Home

*© Sydney Victoria 2014
I Have Pondered About The Word Home Many Times In My Life. I Oftentimes Grasp The Concept Of Home When I Feel As If I Have Escaped Into Another World, One Where I Truly Belong. When I Went To South Africa, I Found My Home.  At Heart, I Think I May Be African.
 Feb 2014
Sydney Victoria
"Sydney?"

The Young Lady's Green Eyes Looked Up From A Heap Of Homework.

"Yes?"

Her Eyes Examined The Man Which Stood In Front Of Her. His Jet Black Hair Was Now Streaked With Small Strands Of Silver. His Gray Eyes Seemed Tired, But They Were The Same As They've Always Been.

The Man Looked At The Young Women Who Sat Before Him. Her Body Which Was Now Lean And Toned Was Supported By Long Legs. She Was Older Now: Her Heart Shaped Face Was Slightly Worn, But Her Eyes Were As Deep And Green As They'd Always Been.

"Promise Me Something."

The Man Watched The Young Lady As She Examined The Room Around Her; Just As She Had Since She Was A Child. Sometimes He Caught Her Watching A Bird Hopping In The Greenest Of Grasses On A Summer Afternoon, Or Intently Examining The Veins In A Leaf During The Fall Months.

The Young Lady Watched The Man's Thin Lips Set Back Into A Straight Line.

"Promise Me, You'll Always Stay The Same."

The Young Women Smiled As The Man Placed His Hand Upon Her Head; Gently Ruffling Her Soft Brown Hair.

"Daddy, The Only Way I'd Change Is If It Was For The Better."
I Love My Dad. If My Dad Wants You To Stay The Same, You Know You're Doing Something Right.
 Feb 2014
echo
Told
to
pick
his
battles

He
picked
all
of
them
10w

— The End —