Impeccable Poetry - Hello Poetry

Apr 20

Nishu Mathur

The bakula and the madhumalti
Sway in the warm wind
Watching children play
In stained shirts
With mud-filled nails
Bare feet and beady drops of laughter
Unmindful of the heat
While a dog playfully rolls over
Trying to catch the sunlight
That falls through the trees

A white-eye flies low,
resting on the firangipani tree
Butterflies dance around the hibiscus
And bees swarm
Hedges have blossomed with flowers

And the mynah calls from outside—
To awaken the forgotten child in an older heart
And tell her that summer reigns

#life #hope

Apr 16

Chelsea Rae

Burning for You

Sometimes there are nights where it feels like my soul is writhing beneath my skin.

Rattling the cage made of bones, banging against flesh, clawing its way out to get to you.

An all consuming condition,
liquid fire roiling through my veins.

My desire for you
Decimating me to ash from flame.

Apr 14

Dan R

You are my tangerine

You are my tangerine,
Brimming bitter-sour
Across the wretched, dusty room.

And you brought me
An orange touch of sun
Glitter glowing on my skin.

To wake wide in the morning,
Curtain dances with fresh air
Into my smoker's lungs.

Even to my deathbed remains
The scene of you that will
Leave me between the walls

Of longing and regret.
And to my morning sunlight,
I will never become better.

I say to you, my tangerine,
You are my very will to live,
And to die, if I cannot save you.

#tangerines

Apr 11

Chelsea Rae

Desires

I can't run from the fire
that is you.

I can only throw myself
to the flames
and
burn in it.

Apr 3

Vianne Lior

A Golden Maze

Pebble falls—no sound.
Bee, lost in lotus chambers,
forgets the way home.

#haiku

Mar 30

Todd Sommerville

Man in the Mirror

Sometimes I write poetry
most times it writes me.

Showing me things
I need to see.

Things I need to acknowledge
to be a better man.

Not to change the world,
but to change what I can.

Most often times
it's a change in me,
A reflection of a man
I don't want to see.

Sometimes I write poetry,
most times it writes me.

And the more that I write
the more I'll like what I see.

And maybe someday
if I write well enough,

The man in the mirror
will smile back at me.

Mar 28

badwords

Split Tongues

You speak
in linen threads,
crease the page
with careful weight.

I write
like a wire frays—
all snap
and static.

You linger.
I lunge.
You plant quiet seeds.
I strike the flint
and call it bloom.

We are not
the same instrument.
Your hush
doesn’t dull my clang.
My heat
doesn’t melt your frame.

There is no prize
for loudness.
No shame
in restraint.

But still,
we each mistook the other
for the reason to stop.

As if difference
were subtraction.
As if one voice
could ever
void another.

Let’s not play
at vanishing.
Let’s speak
in split tongues—
you in dusk,
me in flame—
and let the echo
be richer
for it.

You know who you are.

Mar 25

Melissa S

Fighting off the Darkness

Fighting off the Darkness
I have a lot of darkness in me
but I have goodness too
and I try to fight off
how much dark trickles through

When I feel the darkness
try to rear its ugly head
I submerge myself in water
to wash away all the dread

I can hear my heartbeat in the water
and it lets me know I am still alive
I try and block myself off
to what is slowly trying to thrive

I close my eyes to the darkened images
and close my mind off as well
I dare not speak of any horror
and retreat into my protective shell

I emerge from the water
when I start to feel repaired
then I shift my focus to other people
my thoughts are needed elsewhere

This is a write of mine from March of 2016 and still hold true to this day.
I always try and keep the focus off me and think of others.