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Does the time make us fools or simply were we always so to begin with .
Sketches faded now remain a ghost that haunts only the artist and nobody else.

The clock strikes midnight, but time stands still in this illusion of borrowed hours

Will there be a moments peace within the turmoil which ever lingers upon this day
The hours are toxic to a idle mind.

Falling in a routine and a favorite vice the blade still glimmers even after all its use .

We always find misery easily where others just themselves.

Voices speak to me of freedom
But freedom is not something I desire
I beg and plead with you
But hell
what do you care
I'm lost
But don't treat me like a fool
A fools freedom in your smile
Is not freedom at all

As I walk now past empty gardens that once knew life of summers embrace .

Winters chill is a empty ended promise .
Now simply scorched is the earth that does remain.

The clock upon the wall simply keeps time we only hold memories and nothing more


Life has been a listless game of joys and sorrows
I've spent my joys too quickly and they nowadays spread themselves thin upon the stage which is my life
Sorrowful me that lingers on the edge of reason
May reason be the saving of my  sanity and not its end
Rai has been a great friend through the years and it was a honor to do this co write with her .
And for someone who had not co written before I swear she could have fooled me .

Thank you my friend
 Jul 2017
Kelly Rose
Little dreams
Tiny wants
And simple pleasures
Often get me through
The dark days of life

Life’s journey is made
Up of so many steps
And I dance through the day
When life is drenched with
Possibilities

But, it is
That soothing cup of Earl Grey
That feeling of clean
Or the desire to learn something new
Those little pleasures, wants, and dreams
That restart my engine
When it stalls
And I’m caught in the pouring rain

It is those little things
That allow me to
See beyond “lost gods and howling dogs”
To brighter climes
With endless skies
Of hopes and dreams
Realized

Kelly Rose
© July 27, 2017
“lost gods and howling dogs” from Phil Roberts’ ‘In My Mind’
 Jul 2017
Nat Lipstadt
Hello Poetry


Yearned.
Ached.
For so long, for a community,
That values the ineffable wonder
Of a wordsmith's creations, intended to
Repair himself and the world with bullets of
Verses.

And here you are.

Like/Dislike, matters not,
So long as we value each others work,
And the the heart echoes within
What the eyes read and the mouth whispers.

The array and disparity of your names,
A delight,
Each name a poem
In its own right.

So I resubmit a question for your consideration,
The answer is now known,
The answer is all of us.
May 2013
---------------------------------------------------------


­Who's Who In Poetry  



T'is a curious thing,
these verbal peddlers, tribal members,
famously well known to no one,
perhaps at best,
a kindred few, fellow-travelers.

Each a troop,
bloodied, purple hearted,
word-wounded,
anonymous unto each other,
yet all bonded intimates,
in solitary struggle united,
yet sea-parted by the very nature
of the solitude of composition.

All poets are Cain scar-marked,
purposed for everyone to see,
a warning to rabbled boors,
imagination suppressors!

World:

cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's division.

Poets!

Be the harpooners
of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody,
comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy
to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders
into crinkly eye-lined smilers.

With clinical observation,
dense and demanding,
make us laugh at
the comedy of our situation,
teach us our free-to-see peep show,
reveal, unseal us
with **** empathy!

For who's who in poetry
is all of us!
saviors and failures,
recorders and decoders,
night writers of the oohs and aahs
of dreams and nightmares.

When this poet cannot,
no longer, anymore,
tastes his poems upon your lips,
keep your poems within his heart,
then he breathes no more,
and becomes one who was,
yet is,
because of you,
in poetry.
---------------
Postscript (1/25/17)

Even more true today, than four years ago.
Thank You.
a revised, minor modestly different, version was published in Feb 2016 as
Orphans and Poets, Peddlers & Members https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1564122/orphans-and-poets-peddlers-members/


and then finally another different variant, more personal was published in
Aug 2016 as
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1734088/the-harpooner-of-the-unexamined-life


the harpooner of the unexamined life

"Be the harpooner of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."

writ many years past, just another dusted off phrasing,
composed from life's lecture notes, collected by eyes tired
from the hazing,
eyes wearied by the addict-strong,
incessant observational needing,
of celebrating the loopy,
they who make this planet
capable of laughing at itself,
a helping habit for mutual survival...

should you spot a man ungainly wrought,
weighted down by a harpoon cross
cursed  'pon his Cain-marked back,
you need not move to the other side,
'tis only a make-believe poet,
with his recording device,
seizing your rhapsodies to rhyme,
his collected artifacts, your crinkly smiles,
his meat, his metier, his chosen career,
a comfort caresser of your illusions into
a shapely sculpture of words for you to keep,
a token of your now examined worth,
a celebration for the keeping...
___________-

special thanks to those who rediscovered these poems recently and brought them back to me for refreshing cherishing these old word friends.
 Jul 2017
SøułSurvivør
Answered prayer! God can change the hearts! And he is the Great Physician.

My dad is back in his rest home! They've released him from the hospital, a week before they said he would be out. He does NOT have to go to a nursing home where he would be housed like cordwood. We were very much afraid that he would be miserable. And he would have been. But he's back where he can garden. He has some plants growing in his room. He can do the things that he used to do! The doctors are astounded. They held out no hope of this happening. None of the administration seemed to want him to stay in his rest home. they said it would be too "dangerous" for him! I believe God worked on their hearts so they can see that his longevity is dependent on his activity. He's always been a very active, intellectual man. This will be a testimony to him of God's power. I think he was resigned to his fate. But he had so many people praying that he would be put back in to the home where he's staying now, and he knows it. He survived cancer due to the prayers of the Believers. Cancer free for 7 years! Now this! It's difficult to doubt anymore!

Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts! You made a tangible difference and my father's life was in the balance. And you blessed me immeasurably. May you be blessed with the blessings that you have bestowed upon us!

☆♡☆♡☆ HALLELUJAH! ☆♡☆♡☆
I'm on the phone telling all my friends... I won't be on site tonight. But, Lord willing, I'll be back reading tomorrow ♡

LOVE YOU ALL!

♡ Catherine
 Jul 2017
Born
Ugh
Not again
You have that pensive look
the slurred algebraic expression
that algorithmic stench
Molten into confusing matrix
Geometrically weirdly shaped

Please shut up
I can't take it anymore
Your meagerly written poems
the frustrating metaphors
baked with suffocating syllables
dude, what the heck is a pensive look


There's a huge probability it won't
delve out any logical statistics.
the equations alone will alienate you
the calculus involved is far ahead of your time
just stick with trigonometric thoughts
C'mon you already know the plane of your thighs are sophisticated*

is that a compliment
Painting splendid imagery
that nobody else understands
a poet lurking in words
always writing  
Unfiltered intricately worded poems
 Jul 2017
SøułSurvivør
... for not being on site as much as I probably should be. Some of you may know I have been going through some very difficult times. I do not write about these to elicit sympathy. I only want understanding and compassion. Thank you for reading this entire post.

My father was recuperating well, but it's now flagging in his resolve to live. He has almost entirely lost his hearing. He's losing his eyesight. And now he cannot talk. He had to have a trach put in because his vocal cords were frozen and he couldn't breathe. He requires 24-hour care. He cannot return to the high-functioning home where he was staying before. He will now have to go into a nursing home.

It is very hard to witness this. He is a survivor of the battle of Okinawa. He is a survivor of stage 3 throat cancer. Chemotherapy and radiation treatment at the age of 85. He is now 92. I just don't know if he can survive this. I just need to remember he lived a long rich life.

The biggest problem I'm having is that I know my father is not prepared for eternity. He refuses to even discuss the concept of God. He's always been an Atheist. He is a chemist. A scientist. And he was hurt very badly by religion when he was growing up. I have sown seeds, though. Perhaps the Lord will come to him in a dream or vision. I just don't know...

No matter what happens I am prepared. It is just very difficult, and I cannot concentrate very well. Also I and spending a lot more time in my spiritual practices, so please forgive me if I'm not on the site as much as I could be. It does not mean I don't love you... there are people that are on this site who I pray for on a daily basis. I blanket this site with prayer. There are some who might not believe in the power of this, but I have seen miracles happen right here on this site. A young man was cured of malaria just a couple of weeks ago. Prayer is the most loving and powerful thing anyone can do for another person.
I DO IT FOR YOU ALL.

Thank you for reading.

♡ Catherine
A rose, they say, will have its thorn,
Which cannot harm nor ****,
It only serves to give its bloom
A scent that's sweeter still.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 12/23/2002

It's 1:30am. I must sleep. Goodnight! :)
With elegance,
A Wordsmith interprets
In the exquisite,
Timeless language
Of poetry,

Delicately composing
Beautiful words
Into elaborate sonatas,
Each rendition A graceful,
Classical symphony.

With beauty and intensity,
Full of raw emotions,

Each wordsmith
Extracts their most inner-feelings
And intricately converts them
Into rhythmical compositions.

And this
Is the only fluent language
Their soul is able to speak...

Each sonata they release,
With wings,
Is individually mastered,
Impeccable, and unique.

May each Wordsmith
Never miss a beat,

And continue writing,
With poetic justice,
Their heart's rhythm
On every sheet.

***

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
Dedicated to the Wordsmiths of our world;
May you never miss a beat and continue writing your heart's rhythm on your sheet.

***
 Jul 2017
Ma Cherie
take me on a journey there
and tell me what you see
I see trees of falling bark around
and shores of golden sea

I will take you on a journey here
through the hills of my Vermont
where the crystal waters
run so clear
and my ancestors still haunt

I see mountains tall and proud shimmering in a blue
I see fields of rolling shade
and some sleeping kangaroo

I see moths- the rarest kinds
and these birds of many feather
I see mountains verdant green
and this gorgeous summer weather

I fly with noisy lorikeet
and swim in coral reef
and walk 'twixt ancient eucalypt
to view the sandy beach

I land with Peregrine Falcon
and I soar with red tail hawk
I drift in summer breezes here
and with the animals
I talk

I walk through shady leafy glens
and I tread the reddened Earth
while I listen as the lybirds sing
to state my futile worth

I dream of sweet tomorrow's near
in the clouds of purest white
I hike in ferny glens here too
and fly a homemade kite

I stand beneath the winter here
in the clearest skies above
and I trace the stars my future now
in hopes I find true love

I stand in brilliant honey rays
in days of solstice long
I sing to love ~ oh far away
that he too hear my song

and hear I do,
a song from you
that skipped across the stars
your day-
my night,
we must take flight
beyond the Sun,
the moon and stars

out to the Milky Way
I'll come along with you
our maiden flight
in love and light
to find a love that's true


David Hewitt & Ma Cherie
© July 2017
Hi y'all! Decided to collaborate again- David started the first verse a bit ago- life getting in both our way- I finally finished it tho. This is about two poets two dreamers - different worlds different realities different galaxies even? Both looking for their souls counterpart Always nice to write with David so sweet thoughtful, talented, kind, etc etc lol. Hope you all find something to love about it.  And anyone I've let down on doing a collaboration please let me know and I will try! I get scattered sometimes lol love you all- Muah x - Ma Cherie and David
 Jul 2017
Cné
I sit and read the HP site
and observe a teardrop's course
Engaged in deepest revelry
and when it dies, remorse.

I listen to the rustle of the rhymes
in swaying Poetrees...
And revel in the sweet caress
of every whispered breeze

The sweetness of a sentence
every stanza, works of art
The rhymes that touch my soul
and lo, the rhythm that beats from heart.

The lullabies so sweet and soft
that gentle me to sleep
The love tributes, as I nod off
while counting them as sheep.
I love reading all your words of art. Thank you, HP poets and poetess'
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