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 Aug 2015
Liam C Calhoun
The landlady pounds, one door left,
And my “Momma’s” chopping chives in the kitchen;
So I wince when
My black hat’s conquered wrought wool.

Right, and right out the window, the workers break,
And my “Uncle’s” feet crack, crack come the chemical grass;
So I concentrate when
My chopsticks carve pork.

“Up,” cries the baby, starved are the mice,
And my “sister” bids farewell to her soldier;
So I grasp when
My feet twitch to understand the cold, cold concrete.

Diesel cooks, so down goes the neighbor,
And the “Missus” smiles with our son atop lap;
So I admit when
I try to smile, I really do.

Herein lies the endurance, the rice paddies ancient,
And we’d all bliss ignorant, come the table we surround;
So I reconcile when
Again, I try to smile, I really do.
My in-laws live in what could be considered low-income housing in China; don't bother me none (save the ***** downstairs refining diesel fuel in his home whilst constantly smoking near the flammables), I love this place and it makes for some interesting sounds, sights, and stories.
 Aug 2015
Richard Riddle
"Pettiness, and jealousy, go together.

But, there is not a place for it here on HP. We write what we wish, what we feel, how we feel; about our lives, loves, adventures; our spirituality; we write because it's a beautiful hobby for many of us, and not to begin a competition as to who can do better.
There are so many on this site whose talent I so admire since I joined the site 2 years ago. Because of this nonsense, we recently lost a great writer and friend, whom I will miss terribly. Those that participate in the pettiness, jealousy, hatred, and discontent, are in a minority. Hopefully, the other contributors, writers, poets, essayists, old and new alike, also realize this. Let us not give up our seats on this "Poet's Train!"

copyright: richard riddle-August 18, 2015
 Aug 2015
Tryst
Between each sunrise
And each sunset,
A day will demise
And the world will forget

The dreams of the dreamers
Who struck ne'er a sail,
Who stowed away genius
For fear they might fail --

Raise up a fine banner,
Set course on a whim,
Be aloof in your manner
And never give in,

Shout 'Ahoy!' to each sunrise
And 'Hoorah!' at sunset,
It's the dream 'never dies
That the world can't forget.
 Aug 2015
A Wegner
Do you see a cocoon
Of a butterfly
That didn't bloom?
Because I can see beyond
most things
and maybe you did too
Subconsciously pervading
A spindle of of thoughts,
Thought up
To hide the ones
That were there
Just bursting to come out
But you left them there,
Underneath
And never let me see
So I'm a butterfly
Caged and waiting
For truth to set me free
<3
 Aug 2015
Nicole Lacanilao
Sometimes I just want walk, run, skip and crawl
Anything, I need to get away from it all.
With all that this world has to offer,
I could go insane. I tell you. I really could.
Hold on to God. I know I should.
Sometimes, though, it’s as if He is distant.
But He listens to my prayers at any instant.
His love for me, I can’t contain.
Believe me, He’s the only One Who keeps me sane.
July 8, 2012
 Aug 2015
Sana
As I lay here
Encapsulated in softness
I close my eyes tenderly
For my dreams are placid
Gossamer, floating wild yet gently
My dreams are the sparkles
My dreams are the ambers
But my dreams are not dreams
My dreams are honeyed streams
Manifestation
Of bliss, of love so pure

I am witness of a miracle
I was born once as mortal clay
Buried deep within, seeds of my dark fate
They said,
“You can change not,
Your fate is forged,
On iron pages it is wrought”
Exclaimed I;
“Does not moisture crack the seeds?
Does not I carry that grows to reed?”

So I marched on barren lands
Wildly searching that could damp
Scared,  a step with each heartbeat
Thorns piercing and bleeding my feet
To heavens I prayed in desperate I cried,
Tears of agony in my eyes
That moment bestowed upon me
Our blood is the water that damps the seeds
The more we bleed, the more we reap

Hence I was reborn amongst sunniest rays
To taste the sweetness in bitterness
To experience the noise in silence
To listen the music in smiles
To see the laughter in eyes

As I drift to sleep now
I will not dream, I can never dream
My reality is too beautiful,
My reality is all I dream

Until that day when,
My reality becomes only a dream,
When my lids would turn stones
And the blood in me runs dry
Till that last day,
I will use my blood
To moist my seeds of fate
Dedicated to each one of us who struggled through their dark fate, who rebelled against failure
 Aug 2015
irinia
In this vulnerable, resting, sunset light
the eye is thickened with shadow, deepened by absence.
Things hang in space, ground down by being seen, transparent —
and the mode they exist in now
is their mode of fading away.

The creating eye has weakened;
and the world that streamed — is almost already all sea;
whoever’s in front of me, behind me, at my side
is me, but isn’t here.
And it’s already late. And the day’s over.
And we were left here, alone.

On the banks of the world
there we sat down, imploring our souls —
There we weep, eyeless,
when our gaze sinks into the great sea
and we suddenly remember
who we have been.

Amir Or, from *Let's speak you
 Aug 2015
Chaos
Someone once told me
Whenever I was lost
I should look to the stars
They would guide me home
But where are they tonight?
The sky is cloudy and grey
And no stars are in sight
Why aren't they here?
When I need them the most
I'm so, so lost and I need them
*I need them to guide me home
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
(Niamh Price), this is thy own dedication, thy shortened sentences art lovely, they showeth me mine homeland of Ireland, wherein the druids didst roam, wherein tales went back far and old, as niamh thy soul I feeleth its pain, yet soo amazing thou art friend.

(Gary L), this one is thine own writing, sir, thy friendship is inviting, thy lyrical sense is enticing, as thou doth speak truth when thou seeith it, never quit! On thy works and on thineself, thou art who thou art, a beautiful man, with timeless knowledge.

(SPT), this poem is for thou as a treat, I feeleth thine anguish mix in with thy compassion, thou art a hopeful mansion, filled with words of someone who hath lived age's, thy pages art touching, and I thank thee for thy support and guiding me through h.p.

(Ignatius Hosiana), brother thou art a hopeless romantic like me, hoping for his queen, seeing her only in thine dream's, yet as we scream, as brother's we doth unite! In color of skin's, black and white we overcometh the ideology of hatred, loving the hater.

(Dedpoet), mine Mexican friend, how canst I not loveth thee, thy word's dark, ghetto, and deep, as I've been around hood part's to knoweth enough, the most beauty LIES awake in the hood, the places the rich men overlook, is wherein the eyes of God art .

(Wonderman poetry), brother thy words of Christ uplift me, not a perfect being mineself, thyself showeth me the light in the darkness and thus when I'm down, thine godly loving giveth me help, as thou knoweth brother, love and forgives as Christ taught!

(poetessa diabolica), word's that thou uses art so complex, for thee so I respect, for all thy love thou hath given me, the hope that thou planted me, to showeth me, God still lingers in man's soul's, despite the devil trying to rear around, I thankest thou poetess...

(Donna,) thine little haiku's art a piece of the celestial, thy pieces extraterrestrial, and high up the Angels weep to thy words. Like cures and herbs they giveth me a better day to look to, as like glass, beautiful the words thou uses floweth to heavens moon!

(Rosalind Heather Alexander), speechless I am to thy grace, a Scottish lass as me part Scottish blob and mass, lol, just saying , two bloods of the same kind, now thou art writing thy soul out, keepeth it divine, thy soul canst not go rewind, so love on ahead.

(Soul-survivor), old friend, as we both preach the same predictions shalt we worry of ourn end? No, we shalt continue to showeth love, and giveth others hope, than when we die the Graves not it, but that God's love over-rose, so shalt we, auntie as I calleth thee.

(Icysky), young one please do not cry, the boy's canst seeith the fine stitching God made thee as, thou hath a vessel of rubies, and thou art like a wonderful movie, fast tracked to the best part, icy, let noone breaketh thine heart, and let thy lord guideth thee .

(Joe Malgeri), a freak hippy like me, playing music to the sun, giving lectures highly and fun, thou wilt find a queen like me one day, continue to haveth class, play tunes by night, showeth thy genuine ways. As thou doth, wonderful supporter, HP gypsie!!!

(Anthony Mooney,) an Irish hopeless romantic like me, thy soul hath beauty friend, let not hate overtake, bypass the anger and the heartbreak. Let thy pen jot down thy beauty, making the earth quake, unlike others dear mate, thou hath high class.

(Wolf spirit) ( aka quin,)though we don't talk, I loveth thee mine friend, though even thou doth not like me, thou art one of mine biggest inspiration's, thou art a true passionate, amongst the tribal nations, as I am Cherokee part mineself, thou inspireth me.

(Chris green, )affectionate of the the earth, thy woman Is lucky to haveth a poet by birth, for thy words drip like honey on a summer night, Chris friend, wonderful delight, I thank thee for kindness, for thy hope in refinement, and thou art a king of love.

(Pradip Chattopadhyay,) a man who canst writeth in all perspective, thy profile picture maketh me giggle everytime I seeith it, ( in a good way friend) I loveth thy style, and sense of humor, how thou writeth, and doesn't listen to rumors, a poet!!!

(Dark icE,) I just met thee, but thy sensuality is so delighting and like a dream, thy words sucketh me in as I canst ever get out, thy amour in poem's is a cloud, on which I linger for more of its nectar wet taste, immense in this place, unlike the human race.

(Beth StClair), mine best friend if back in the sixties, we wouldst hath layed flower's around ourn necks and head's, we wouldst hath sang the tunes of the Beatles and the dead, as I wouldst hath sung with Lennon, and zeppelin and thou wouldst hath watched.

(Vicki,) I've already wrote for thou and beth, but thou two art the best, Vicki in the crumby state of Ohio like me(lol) though me and thou aren't from here (were Angels of earth's dream's) thou art a poetic of kings and queens, thou art kind, sweet, and a a peace.

(Impeccable Space Poetess,) thy writing is like thunder. Maketh me laugh cry and rolleth over, I read again, like a books beautiful cover, thou art a friend, a poetry lover. Thou hath intelligence of God and heaven, never let man break thee or hurt thee.poetic!!!

(POETIC T,) a spirit light as a feather, free not a slave, not of this world, a man not a boy, thou hath been through strife and abuse, thy hands art not bound, thou hath cut the noose, please don't leaveth us, we all careth for thee. Friend of mine. And HP.
This is for some poets for now. Gonna make another one in little bit for more lol... Took forever for this!!!!!! Part two coming lol.. And BTW for others I love on here don't get upset *** u aren't in poem yet this is part one... More people to come lol and for u who who see I even use people I love in here who don't like me at all but fact is I love them I don't need noones approval can just show love (:::
 Aug 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~

This love is so exclusive
That turns me too illusive

When I am in a dream
She builds the stream

When I write a poetry
She recites the piece fluently

When she sings a song
Dreams longing me too long

So my heart is under lock and key
Which could only open by she

~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
 Jul 2015
Ja
VINCENT

Oh Vincent, too soon you said goodbye
Each time your love rejected, emotions set awry
Your hand above, the lamps hot flame
To prove in time, your love won’t wane
Each failure then, became your bane
That memory faded, but love, came not again

Your brothers love, the only one
Throughout your life, you counted on
And those few friends, which once were close
Each in their turn, did you dispose
Like those bad seeds, “The Sower” threw
Were tossed aside, and never grew
            
Regressing shades, of grey from white
Lights that flickered, through the night
You became a somber, tortured soul
You tried but could not, find your role
The acceptance, which you hoped to find
With each descent, you lost your mind
    
On your release, from “Madhouse Garden”
Your senses dulled, your “Sorrow” hardened
You still envisioned, “Flowering Orchards” blooming
Contrasting days, frustrations looming
Shadows formed, in weightless plumes
From the “Old Cemetery Tower”, and its tombs
          
Soon days of joy, your senses rouse
Bringing renovations to, “The Yellow House”
Long travels through, the countryside
Those paintings that, you did with pride
Enormous swings, from “Wheatfield In Rain”
To “Wheatfield With Crows”, that caused you pain
  
For years you searched, just to belong
Your madness proved, your choices wrong
So for Gauguin, your friend and peer
For his desertion, a severed ear
Then long drunken hours, at “The Night Cafe”
A “Man In Sorrow”, on display
        
Like a “Wind Beaten Tree”, your emotions bared
Your faith now lost, but no one cared
Your world then flares, into sweeping swirls
As “The Starry Night” its hues unfurls
Beneath the sky “Sunflowers” so bright
But yet again, the dark sides blight
          
Those years of struggle, to regain your sanity
Brought your biggest loss, trust in humanity
So with colors dark, the image jaded
Your love and dreams, then finally faded
And now you weep, “At Eternity’s Gate”
Your field of dreams, await their fate

And so
The moral of his story
Now becomes fourfold
And lessons not then learned
Shall now by me be told

When you lose in love
Your hand, you should not burn
Just because, it’s fried and crispy
It’s not, “Kentucky Fried Chicken”, Vern

Always, to your friends
Try to lend an ear
Just, don’t cut it off
And gift it, as a souvenir

If life just drives you crazy
And painting, keeps you sane
Just pretend, you’re painting life
And drink lots of Champagne

When you’re young and life’s gone bad
Don’t put your life on hold
You do not need to **** yourself
Unless you’re really old

But no moral, can be learned
By committing suicide
Cause you can’t dream, nor paint your dream
Now, that you have died

BOEMS BY JA 299          15-05-2014
I HAD HIS PAINTINGS FOR THE QUOTES BUT THEY DIDN'T TURN OUT
 Jul 2015
Mermaid
It was a willow tree once there
   At the land of lake and mist,
   It was standing lonely on the shore
   Waiting for a beautiful hand to touch
   Its shining leaves.
   It was a woman in green, wrapped in
   A scarf with autumn leaves,
   Her hair was with honey color
   Her eyes were magnetizing and dark,
   She came to the willow on twilight "
   Rainy clouds gathered with above
   With gray shadows,
   She weeps under the tree and talks to it
   “Oh, willow, where is my beloved…
    since years he went to the land of
    pineapples and sun,
    and then he never returned..
    I promised to wait him every night,
    And every day I light candles and pray.”
   The woman's tears fall from her beautiful eyes,
   They touched the ground of the tree
   And dropped on its leaves…
   “Don't cry, dear “ replied the willow,
    I'm here beside you, I hear and feel,
    I was also a maiden one day in life
    Waiting my beloved I came here to cry
    Near the lake and mist.
    Years passed by ,he never returned
    And my longing increased
    One day I just woke up and found
     My hands transformed into green leaves
     My body " to stem of a willow tree.
    God gave me peace , I'm still crying
    But I don’t wait for him.
    The woman in green was amazed
    She felt suddenly quite inside herself,
    She stood little with opened eyes
    Gazing the lake, then kissed the tree
    And turned away.
    The willow saw her smile, she never came
    Again to the mist and lake land,
    But her autumn leaves scarf is still there…
 Jul 2015
Liliana Jaworska
He was dancing between forces of light and darkness.
His eyes celebrated journey of sun in the sky
looking in it for ancient knowledge
invoking light and fire of all stars
praying to divine source of goodness
pretending to be white lunar light.
He told me' You must be light to give light,
fire to give fire in this dark world.
All living matter belongs to light.
All living matter is thought of God.'
I needed him as I need breath to live and die,
as astrology influence of stars and planets
as east west to embrace direction
as plants cosmic rays to exist
as body cells Infinite Intelligence to guide
as child womb to grow .
I guess he has good heart underneath
worthy miracles come to him
even if he appears to me like black moon
hungry for light to experience pure moments.
He called me Venus, Isthar.
I called him hidden mystery of universe.
We both spoke soul to soul
with codex of love
and sacredness of spirits.
I was Divine Godess filled
with smell of white roses
illuminating his mind.
When night came
he loved me with power of Gods
embracing my crown between stars.
Showing me constellations and moon
he became almighty Creator
giving brigtness of all of cosmic creation to me.
My mother told me
'Choose your man wisely.'
But what is wisely
doesn't come from heart.
He was first man
who didn't break my heart
and shattered my dreams.
I choosed him following my heart
and voice residing between my heart,
fate and God's inspirations.
When he looked in my eyes he told me
'Vision of God is clear to me.
Loving you I am one with His light.
You gave me eyes of God.
I am godlike, goddess like
I am His wings of Love above all
Existing only for you and our love.
I am prayer of your heart.'
Angels created intimacy and ecstasy
between our bodies and worlds.
Sacrifice, sweetness was my gift to him.
'Guiding lantern of my heart' he called me.
Holding his head in my arms close to chest
I was morning and evening star glorifying law of love .
He was guardian Angel of my day and nights
rebirth of my soul to escape death
music and poems of my longings
force of attraction between our hearts.
It was romance of souls and minds,
body to body, spirit to spirit
intimacy of clouds carrying our hearts
close to Mars,
closeness of bodies, kiss of breaths
unity of flames, memory of Eden.
My mother told me 'Choose your man wisely.'
All I know heart is wiser than mind.
Listen your inner voice
blood, veins and cells
God's whispers of intuition
and you will find the one.
This love is return to Source,
fullfilment of human emptiness
not caring for pride, humanity.
It's nakedness of souls
celebrating acts of closeness
not looking for any other lover
not knowing beginning and end
of falling in love and being in love.
'Let his fires and silence burn you.'
pure passion whispered.
I choosed wisely.
Soul to soul.
Heart to heart.
Fire to fire.
God making two one.
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