How far might you go
To protect those you hold dear
How much could you give up
To keep them in the clear

If their life was put in danger
By someone who wanted a thrill
Rather than sit and watch them die
Would you be willing to ****?

What if it were both of you
Who's lives were on the line
If asked who's life should meet an end
Would you be able to say "mine"

What if they were an angel
Who always put others first
And they sacrificed themselves
To keep the world from getting cursed

Would you respect their wishes
And allow their life to end
Knowing they'd be forever in pain
Would you allow them to ascend

Or to guarantee their happiness
Would you give up your own
Would you rebel against your love
And forever be alone

Causing them to hate you
And giving up your soul
Would you still embrace the darkness
To prevent their noble goal

How far might you go
To protect that which you adore
Would you descend away from good
Would you forever close that door?

This shattered house
  I've found myself surrounded by
Breaks a little more each day
   The walls I've built and plastered
Are peeling away layers of guilt
    Hanging mirrors with shadows of reflections
    Ghosts of ink spilt
This floor, these bricks, the cement out the doorstep
     Pavement falling apart from where so many shoes have walked
   Decorated with outlines of broken hearts in chalk
      If these walls could talk
They'd tell stories of rage and pain,
   Of the misery born into its foundation
           Day after day
If these cupboards could hold as many secrets as those walls have heard
    Of the lies they've tried to hide away inside, they would burst
      If you could save the tear drops that have fallen under this crumbling roof top
    Then you could drown this dilapidated house
       Bury it alive with no doubt that the years of emotion and agony it's kept hidden inside
  Will easily and willingly have peace when it dies
       The color of the paint would simply be forgotten before the end of the day
     The torn and rotten foundation would just be ripped away and replaced
  With stronger cement at its base for someone new to cling to
      And new walls and paint for another soul to suffer through
  But this shattered house still stands
      There's no plans to rebuild all these shards of my broken heart splattered on the ground
   And nothing will ever replace my soul when this house falls down

in the land of the white
live too the black men
apparently with equal right
but with covert disdain.

why couldn't the world be one place
when we are all from common gene
where humanity is the only race
across the color of skin.

in the land of the black
live too the white men
apparently of the same pack
but on a different plane.

why couldn't the world be one landmass
when we rose from one origin
where being humane is the only class
across the color of skin.

in the land of the white
live the white men
among them aren't equal right
exist disparity and disdain.

why couldn't the world be one unit
when together we all once had been
where brotherhood is boldly writ
across the color of skin.

in the land of the black
live the black men
among them oneness they lack
the inequalities still remain.*

why couldn't the world be one creed
where mankind lives as one kin
the white and the black can only read
love across the color of skin.

How beautiful it is to be silent
when someone expects your anger
And how beautiful it is to smile
when someone expects you to shed tears.

And the faceless looked upon the living and heads tilted in
Anguish, in hated of those features, that expressed
As theirs were but a blank state, could we ascend into there
Fears of an existence where nothing was shown but torn
Into our reality through pain.

Each yearned to expresses their contempt and would push the
Sheath between here and there, their finger would delve in
To those features that wished to show the pain they felt, so
Numb in that place of shadows where only the featureless
Were searching  in darkness. There are only silhouettes of
Shadows of former self's craving for the memory of before.

It doesn't matter to them that the flame past, that moments
Now extinguished they craved the time that was, not the
Nothingness, the faceless that they have now become. Wanting
To see through eyes not their own, to utter those grievances
That were not spoken in those past moments now dust.

The reaper left them in that place where evil lies upon thorns,  
That lacerate where innocence feeds into those that corrupted it.
To the darkest place and what was tainted now onyx blackened
No longer is there   humanity in this husk of shadow but taint
That was left upon death and it feed upon self, and feed well.

A shadow only has power in the dark but, we are darkness
In the light with our thoughts, that show them the faces that the
Faceless wish to show the pain of their loneliness. The darkness
Has a face and it is blank, it wants to see through your perception
Through you it wishes to vent its featureless obsession .

You remind me of the earth,
   like deep burnt umber woodlands
mid downpours' fresh aroma
       & spring's foliage lushly reborn,
twinkling explosive pinpoints
       grazing beyond dark ether,
  sparkles dappling 'pon depths
        of eternal seascapes's nature,
amidst breath of relentless airy winds
    gusting above her majesty's hazes
       beyond purple mountain's apex
and streams of meadows' wildflowers in
  deftly painted horizons after moonbows,
vivid consciousness' uttermost reminisce
   of all things recollected in the long ago
        essence of your memories' presence

October 20, 2014   8:40a.m.

On August 28, 2013, strictly as a novice, and not having posted anything, anywhere, I posted my first two pieces of "literary art" on the HP site. I had previously searched other similar sites until finally deciding on posting with HP. I'm glad I did.  Why?

Not knowing what to expect, I threw "1894", and "Folklore and Fairy Tales" into the "mixing bowl". Pradip and Sally were the first to comment, and I will never forget the encouragement their words gave me. Never! Quite often, I go back and re-read them, particularly when I get a little discouraged when the "writers block" syndrome decides to attack. Thank you both, so very, very much!

But that is the core of the HP family. There is an aura, a special atmosphere of cohesiveness among its contributors, willing to offer(in most cases) constructive criticism without being cynical, and always encouraging each other. Making friends whom we may never see, whose hands we may never shake, but a friendship none the less, that is spread throughout the globe, and the thoughts that will always be there. It is a feeling I did not sense with other sites.

One thing is for certain. We never know what our readers are going to like/dislike on any given day. When we post a piece, of what we may think is the work of "pure genius" could go by the wayside in seconds. On the other end of the spectrum, what we believe is not so great, could trend in minutes.

We will keep trying.

Richard Riddle
copyright: October 20, 2014

Hey.
I'm glad you came here.
Thank you for remembering this.
Thank you for remembering to look at this.
I know it hurts.
God.
I know.

You're scared out of your mind that this is going to be your entire life.
Full of pain.
Full of fear.
Full of depression and anxiety.
Full of storms and trials that leave you breathless on the ground, shaking from the panic that courses through your blood.
You think that if you just die now, you'll be in heaven.
Where it is so much better.
Where there is no pain.
No depression.
No anxiety.
No fear.


But, you have your life to live right now.
And it won't be an awful life.
How do I know?

Because beauty is in everything and it is just waiting to fully bloom.

You want to know the beauty that was in today?
Today, I had an amazing, life-giving conversation.
My fears and thoughts were validated.
I was told I wasn't alone.
I geeked out with him over film.
And I was given the biggest compliment.
I was told that my mind intrigued him.
We shared about our own experiences with depression.
We talked about God and how sometimes there just aren't answers.
It was amazing and it was just what I needed.
You won't have that if you make your thoughts a reality.

I want you to remember everything and everyone you love.
On earth.
In this life.
I want you to remember why you need to stay alive.

Remember your family.
Remember your dad who is going through so much pain.
Remember your mom who is fighting to stay with you.
Remember your brother who loves you, even though it does not feel like it.
Remember your cousin who will do anything for you.
Remember that they will do everything in their power to help you.

Remember your friends.
Remember your best friend who won't know what to do without you.
Remember your teachers who pray and talk with you.
Remember how they are fighting with you and for you.

Remember your favorite things.
Remember driving in your car at night with your music blasting.
Remember reading a good book with the warmth of the fireplace.
Remember the rush of taking a risk, whether physical or emotional.

Remember tea and peaches and blankets and books.
Remember conversations and movies and passion and love.
Remember oceans and mountains and flowers and stars.

Remember all the little things.
Remember how life can be so surprising.

So get your headphones,
blast your music,
drown out those voices,
and when you're ready,
go to sleep.
I promise that it won't be so bleak in the morning.

In the ageless place where wings greeted the realms of the sky.
A single  rose did blossom, its thorns of clarity transparently
Unseen, to hide the deed that would be beauties hidden snare.

Fallen a single item of purity fell upon this petalled beauty and
From white It was consumed, until it flamed black Till ash
Nourished the rose and petals turned starless black.

She happened on this rose of no thorn, nicking her index it bled
But a drop, and what wasn't was now shown a thorn of red,
As if blood had filled its edges, and with that one knick a petal
Of black did open, no longer closed the door now open.

As upon an exposed moment this petal permeates the purity
Of Innocence, inviting those enticed to obscurity of beauty
hidden is the pollen that infiltrates the air seeding its Influence
upon others self. As all are drawn to the rose that drinks.

Each thorn did consume, all met innocence and each petal now
Turned from purity to onyx of corruption. Where the shades of
White confronted with desires of a thought never felt.

Ever petal had opened, spawned the beast that had slept, but
Now woken as pollen of darkness inhaled by light. Those perfect
features now jagged upon silk torn, blood was not spilt on thorns
But on the white cobbled streets, screams of insanity reeked.

A single rose blossoming beauty of flawed conscience's had
Given birth to unclean emotions, thoughts that took control.
All were nearly tainted only a few were still pure of heart, this
Place of fallen feathers into the clouded thoughts.

There was a rose that blossomed in Calluna, its beauty seduced
Those of purity of heart and seeded a petal that was like a razor
Jagged, upon a soul cutting it apart. With tainted beauty till only the
shards of edges sharp breathed upon a heart. now all was black
Where once there was only shades of white that have fallen apart.

I have read too many poems
From those of you who want to die.

I read the words, I hear your voice,
Yes, I hear your desperate cry,
I am torn and heart-sick at your plight;
Yet, I have to ask you why?
For when you close your eyes forever,
The hurt and pain won’t go away,
It crawls inside all those you love,
Where it kills them every day.

Were you jilted by a lover?
Are you an addict, beaten down?
Or is it that you don’t fit in
On the ‘right’ side of the town?
Does no one understand you?
Or “It doesn’t matter anyway”,
Because when you try to tell us,
We listen not to what you say?

No, I cannot feel the pain you bear
But I understand it’s real
Is there anything that I can do,
To try and help you heal?
Do you want someone to hold your hand?
Do you want a shoulder for your tears?
Do you want someone to scream at you?
Or hold you tight and calm your fears?

Do you need a teacher?  Or a coach?
Or a banker for your debt?
Do you want a job that’s interesting,
Or any job that you can get?
Do you want to make somebody proud?
Or find someone to share your life?
Or do you only want a yes-man
To hand you the pills, give you the knife?

You may say, “Shut up old man! –
Don’t want to listen to your ****.
You’ve always had it easy,
You always won, you never had to quit.
You don’t have a ******* clue.”
And you’re right I probably don’t
But if you keep it all inside,
No one will, and I sure won’t.

Please seek some help, I beg of you
You each have talents, and a heart
There’s a remedy or cure somewhere
For the pain that’s tearing you apart
I’m not a doctor, or a shrink
But I’ve seen suicide up close,
It hurts and devastates the ones
Who loved the victim most.
Phil Lindsey  6/8/15
                     **1-800-273-8255

It's a funny thing how
feelings can fade away
without a warning.

Just like your love
for me vanished within
the heat of my pride
Evaporating within
the tense atmosphere of
our own screams.

All because my lips
trembled as the words
crawled out of their
hidden crevices
*all too soon, all too soon