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  Jul 2015 Dreamer
Michael James
She had the kind of voice that
Could calm a stormy sea
And in its absence, my heart
Is a maelstrom and I'm
Discovering how deep the
Ocean really is.
  Jul 2015 Dreamer
ryn
Give me a minute
To read the stars
Lamenting in their stories
Their laboured twinkling far and sparse

Give me this moment
To stumble and swoon
My branches reaching for
The faraway moon

Give me a while
To be one with the universe
Hear the colliding planets
As they spill their mournful verse

Give me some time
To plot my rightful place
Within my uncharted galaxy
And collapsing space...
  Jul 2015 Dreamer
Amitav Radiance
Fantasy grapples with reality
Distorted and mangled ideas
Waiting to infuse the drudgery
Into the freshness of fantasy
Churning viciousness into potion
Gifting death to the believers
Let the imagination become stronger
To make fantasy bolder than reality
  Jul 2015 Dreamer
Sara Teasdale
Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.

We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.
  Jul 2015 Dreamer
i am miss brightside
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
  Jul 2015 Dreamer
David
In a room full of people,
yet you feel alone.

Always in the house,
but you never feel at home.

The one you dream of
doesn't know you're there.

And you care too much,
when nobody seems to care.

You are sitting still
but your mind is racing.

Your face seems calm
but you heart is pacing.

You are alive,
but feel so dead.

You exist in the world,
but only live inside your head.
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