Poems that Speak to Me - Hello Poetry

Oct 2014

Jack

~

There will come a time when you say, "no more,
this weight is much too heavy to bear,
these thoughts of you dancing through my mind are now painful
and seeing that far ahead is nothing more than a blur"

There will come a time when you say, "it’s over,
I do love you more than anything but I can not any longer,
you will always reside deep in my heart
though telling you will not be an option"

There will come a time when you say, "good bye,
I wish I didn’t have to leave but I must,
I will not look back even though I want to
because this hurts so badly"

There will come a time when I say "I understand",
and that will be the time that I don’t

Oct 2014

wordvango

The Storm is over!

The Storm is over!
Spent of all
its frightening fury,
its roaring clapping done,
with dawn arise on the horizon,
        one questions all the worry!

The winds once wild
with mighty wrath
stirred darkness to a boil!
They now toy with last night's turmoil,
        and clear the sun a path!

All prayers are laid aside-
       save one-
as gloom gives way to
the morning sun.

The prayer yet remaining?
Let me survive the next
       storms' ride!

Oct 2014

eunsung aka Silas

quickest way to hell

heaven and hell lives in me
the fires of my anger destroy
me from the inside

deep rage rises from nowhere,
and I feel deep compassion for myself
despite my short comings

I am both angel and demon
rolled up into one
I love them both

#hell #anger #heaven

Oct 2014

SG Holter

Heartsplit

Heartsplit*

A measure of the time
Between one part of a relationship
Not caring as much
Anymore

And the other responding
The same way

Slightly longer than a heartbeat
Slightly less than
Love

Perhaps being aware
Never takes us
There

Oct 2014

Louise

~I'm a little less of who I used to be~

I think I've lost a friend,
a feeling,
a thought,
a moment.
What ever it was
it came and went,
lingered, and then left.
I'm not even sure what it was
maybe it was a part of me
something that felt like a friend
one of those people
you know is just passing through.
So, I accept it,
I suppose
it's life
and these things
'happen'.

I just feel a little 'less'
of a person now
but didn't I always?

What will it take
to complete the 'whole'

Maybe I won't be the same again
Do I want to be?
I'm no different
just a little more
of who I wasn't.
But aren't we all?'

Oct 2014

wordvango

Joy

In the depths of life's chaos there is hope
   a light of salvation to pursue,
       Joy, in a fleeting glimpse,
            but a small moment of tender peace,
                calms the restless eternity.

Oct 2014

r

beneath the cottonwood

canyon wren
sings her sweet song
perched upon
the piñon-

for my love
who lies beneath-
the cottonwood
twee twee twee
tsheeeeee.

:)

r ~ 10/3/14

\¥/\
|. song of the canyon wren
/ \

Oct 2014

Sjr1000

Night and Day

My night time self
hates
my morning self
it's clear as night and day
they never did get along.

My night time self
stays up too late
never sleeps
always thinking
drinking, plotting, planning,
worrying about morning self's mistakes
smoking a thousand cigarettes
one **** over the line
eating chocolate bars
at one a.m.

While my morning self
an early riser
is the one
that has to get up
go to work
always corrects
and
lectures
dedicated to maintaining the structure.

My night time self
only thinks about himself
uses
the last piece of wood
won't bother setting up
the coffee maker
he's so cruel
stares into t.v. space
muttering about love's
he's never had.

While my morning face
has to face
the clutter of night time
disgrace
bottles,
lights blasting
computers running
another ***** movie going
hello poetry splattered on the walls
and another alcohol poisoned
Jersey blonde
stretched out across
the bathroom floor
while morning self
has to shave
and doesn't know her name.

Night time self
finally sleeps
god rest his soul
about the time
morning self
from his dreams
has to rise
rudely awakened by talk radio.
Morning self has to go out and play
the straightened out games
while the residue
of night time insanity
lingers,
a film
covering morning self's
pretense at sanity.
Responsible
ethical
moral
always has to pay the bills
for you know who.

I once tried to get them together
a meeting of these two
but it quickly dissolved
into
a
shouting match
across the twilight dew
never could get them together
they were as different
as
me and me
and
you and you.

"one **** over the line. . ." Brewer & Shipley, 1970.

Oct 2014

SG Holter

Whisper Myself Roots as Faint as Mere Thought

I could be a dog left out in the rain,
Hungry and counting every minute
In sevens.
I'd wait for you for days, through
Nights, never giving up.
Raising my wet head at every and any
Shadow passing. Hoping. Hoping.
Hoping.

I'll wait forever for you to trust me.

I could be a single seed, windborne,
Then dropped in just enough soil
To crack open and whisper myself roots
As faint as mere thought at first.
Growing, drinking, bathing in sun,
Bending with the movements of
Earth and air.

I'd grow forever until you trusted me.
I'll wait forever for you to trust me.

I've hurt as many people as I've shaken
Hands with in this life.
Nearly every important choice I made
Was a bad one.
I take full responsibility.
So trust me.

I'll never lie and say I'll never make you
Cry. I love you too honestly for
Truthlessness. No cloak and dagger,
No lie less white than Girl, these flowers
Are not for you.
I am as disappointingly human as
They come.
Men.

I'll let you down, I'll make you wonder,
I'll see you question your own
Judgement, and taste in men.
I refuse to pretend to be more than I am.
I'm too old to fake.
Too old to care too much for
Opinions and impressions.
So trust me;

I'll shake my wet fur on your new coat,
I'll jump up and lick your face,
Leave strands of hair and smelly
Wet smudges all over you,
As happy as only a dog can be.
Trust me.
Take the leash and walk me home.

I've been waiting forever for you to
Trust me.
I'll wait forever for you to trust me.

I'm not even tied to that pole.

Oct 2014

SG Holter

Beauty to the Blind

I rub her shoulders; like
Softening mahogany.

Hands ruined from decades
Of construction and boxing

Do her too little good.
I'd give her my back; it's much

Better than hers. Keep my hands
And my stitched up heart with the

Ticking aorta valve of titanium
And granite (such contrast to its

Otherwise volunerable softness), but
I'd give her these shoulders.

They can carry worlds, the full weight
Of a grown woman

For miles, across continents if so.
They have carried everything except

The ability to lend themselves. As
Useless as beauty to the blind.

Oct 2014

eunsung aka Silas

morning quiet

I sit breathing
staring at a lit candle

I hear the gentle
singing of crickets

the world has yet to awaken

another day of life
to open my heart to

a quiet morning
before I throw myself into the day

may I be centered by
inner stillness and peace,
so I may share this morning quiet
with all those I meet today

Poem after morning meditation

#peace #meditation #hearing #candle #breathing

Oct 2014

Jack

And the forest was silent again…

And the forest was silent again…

Splintering shadows creep slowly
across the overgrown footpath
frantic fingers slivering in sinister shapes

Slumbering moon beams cloaked,
abaft of a stately oaken veil,
a canopied thorn and branch woven tapestry

Wallowed whispers cling to cavernous winds
pushing chinaberry stalkers deep
under the cover of moss coated roots

When suddenly…

          Underbrush fantasies flourish
          behind vine wreathed curtains,
          on fallen leaf stages of assorted colors

          Foot light fireflies trim the edges
          in panoramic illuminations,
          flickering to tickle every fancy

          Fairies perform pirouettes on tippy toes
          Glistening wings flutter, shimmering to the
          melodic sounds of hedgehog harmonies

          As bullfrog baritones and spider web sopranos,
          sing the sweetest songs in the key of autumn
          bringing smiles to all of the creatures in attendance

When suddenly…

Far away on the eastern horizon
the faintest specklings of amber appear
slipping through the densest drapes

A great horned owl yawns and blinks,
gazing eyes follow the turning head
as he surveys another day in his life

Sounds of scurrying, bristled brush
echo through now glowing limbs
signaling the end of the evening

And the forest is silent again…

Just a little whimsy on a Thursday