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 1161° 
Traveler
Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke
Swirling boundless
To and fro

Out of the fire
A non-corporeal host

Stinging eyes
Burning nose
Cough me out
Or start to choke

Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke

Another cloud
Another soul
Into thin air
Watch me flow

Out the window
And down the road!

Surely I was
A wisp of smoke...
Traveler 🧳 Tim
My avatar wrote this..

PS all those things this writing made you think were intentionally design by a wisp of smoke..
 1109° 
Nat Lipstadt
1:12:25 9:20am nyc

Exactly, how far is it to you?
this is more than mere question,
or a rhetorical poem title discard,
consider it an interrogatory of
the first order, a debate raging
with every word successfully
affixed from brain to fingertips,
from my breathing to your heart,
how far is it exactly, pray tell me,
how these cords of words find you,
are your lips bending up in a smile,
need me a weather report, air quality,
wind gusts vitals vital to yo! estimate
how fast & conditions they’ll require survive/arrive in your eyesight well
and be friended


feed me the data, Heart Rate, Blood Pressure,
SpO2, so I’ll know what condition your
condition is in, adjust my words accordingly,
send to this distance back to me awaiting,
the necessary facts & figures to provide the finger stroke directional, do you need whispers or emboldened bold face to arouse the a spirit flagging, a shoulder shaking, a dozen red lipped chords of
kisses and sweet everthings, that do not
dissolve, dissipate or disappear instantly,
but can be stored in a Ziploc bag, refrigerated,
ready for gorging and disgorging, repeatedly,
as needed, synchronized slow or hard, fast
or soft, wet or dry. sweet or salty, savory
or a blended mixture, an adjustable concoction depending
on distance, time of day,
tell me,
the stuff that you accept
with open willingness,
or just begrudgingly

all adjustable
all shaped to
your individuality
elastic flexible
but the schedule
filling up fast
so we can mutual
squeeze into each others
empire of empty

so,
Exactly, how far is it to you,
to where you are being
?
Exactly, how far is it to you nml lipstadt
 797° 
Hex
Flames devour wood,
Like anger’s fire scorches bonds.
Once strong and good,
Now broken, left near still ponds.
 476° 
Carla Marie
You can count on

Babies to cry… and
Cars to break down

You can count on
Teenagers to lose their minds

You can count on
Children’s kisses to fill your heart… and
Flowers and trees to bud in springtime

You can count on
Traffic to be worse
When you are late for work… and

The Moon to glow… and
The Sun to shine

You can count on
Fish on Fridays… and

Fourth of July Bar-b-que...
Black-eyed peas on New Years Eve... and

Me
Always
Loving
you
 396° 
Fisher
if i was a boulder with moss for hair,
i'd find a stream and settle there.
watching bugs and fish go by,
i think i'd like this rocky life.

the sun will brush my hair just right,
and birds will rest their wings from flight.
and underneath my stony feet,
rabbits will burrow, and love, and sleep.

and when a hawk shades ground below,
the mice will scurry and hide and know
that i am a boulder
with moss that grows.
the urge to exist and do nothing else smh
 355° 
Odd Odyssey Poet
bury me alive, and let's just pretend it wasn't suicide
oh, you don't like me, well so do I — there's this ugly version
of myself that I can't deny, so to every girl I date, I always
pray you'll find a better guy

still, I fell in love with the rhythm of your eyes,
cos you always seem to view me as a better guy. to my
surprise, you give me reason to stay alive

but I always tell you not to read too deeply
on some of the things I say. darling I'm only human —
sometimes I make spelling errors, still was it a spell that
you fell in love with me?

      your purpose is love,
                 and I'll protect it with my life.

 334° 
Caesar
I find comfort In the dark
Like the night
The silence
And the villains that used to play on my tv screen
They were brave
Though called cruel
They spoke their
heart
Misunderstood from the start
In the world so bleak
And without a clean slate to start from
They were hopeless from the start
A horrible upstart
Close to my own
I hold villians close to my heart
Shielding them from the hero
Which is all to bland
And to be blunt
There always painted too brightly
Bold colors
Bright and popping
Showing they are brighter
Better than crime the villain
Dark and shy
Most the time unable to fly
Why do wee pain them in such colors
We’re all to simple minded
To believe in a world of crime
Color could truly describe
Lot of topic on this one
 304° 
Larry Berger
things which came to mind
when I read your poem,
I have been able to
flesh out with imaginative
reality, wrestling your
dilemmas to the floor
and pinning them there
while the poetic referee
pounded the mat, shouting,
and counting to three,
the match is over now,
and you can be free
 298° 
Kabiru
Sweet face
Mellow voice
Irresistible person
Lovely human
Everything I need
 291° 
Stephen E Yocum
LA burns, smoke blackens sky,
people flee and abandon cars,
90 and 100 mile an hour winds
feed and fan the flames, people
losing everything, even being
rich, or famous cannot save their
big homes and life's possessions.
Someplace in that expanding,
raging inferno my son, an Oregon
Fire Chief leads 300 Firefighters
and their 75 engines and water tenders
over 900 miles south into the fire storm.
Along with firefighters from other
states. Mutual support needed & rendered.

One of my son's firemen is his own son,
and my 21year old rookie grandson
with a little over one year on the job.
His seasoned father has fought many
battles with all kinds of fires, he set to
retire in May after 30 years on the job.
He has seen it all, with never a scratch
or a "singe", but my grandson has never
experienced anything of this magnitude,
being one of a 4-man truck crew battling
side by side in the belly of a raging beast.

All these 30 years I worried for my son's
safety, now it starts anew, for our boy
barely a man that walks in his father's shoes.

I will not sleep well until they are all
home safely. I grieve for the victims
of this awful tragedy.
When others run away from fires,
or danger these rare breeds run
towards them, firefighters and
police unselfish public servants.
And we would all be in deep
Doodoo without them.
 280° 
Roseleigh
There is comfort in your transparency
A willingness to be flexible
Some find your touch uncanny
Yet even your teeth are gentle
While a cat may have nine lives
You only get one season
To inspire appreciation of the present
And I will always remember you for it
 279° 
Sarthak Gupta
It spoke, it spoke until the mouth dried,
But the words were ignored, the thoughts denied.
Next time when the turn came,
Dull eyes and silent cry, that's all remained.
 277° 
ophelia
But I'm a fish,
Swimming in life's stream,
Chasing fleeting dreams, it seems,
Free in the currents' flow.

Fragile, full of emotions, yet voiceless—
Silent waters stir,
Delicate fins brush unseen worlds,
Unspoken feelings drift quietly.
ugh its so hard being a pisces
 246° 
Immortality
How can I
love someone new,
when you kiss
my soul
so true?
For the blurred-faced man, who comes in my dream-

Are you real, or am I lost in the feel?
 245° 
Xio
Don't look back at the past, it may have been the best years of your life, but you can make the future better.
The wind, a sly lover, lifting my silken dress,
I sway with abandon, revealing soft tenderness,
Wind, with lips so eager, tracing each subtle finesse,
With each rising current, my heated blush will express,
I surrender to breezes that stir my wild restlessness.
 224° 
Thomas Freeman
Tethered between heaven and hell

Sitting staring silently sobbing

I place all my hopes ‘n dreams on to the wishing well

Wishing that one day just like the stars above

I will shine long after my days have come to an end
 211° 
Thomas W Case
Tepid water
between
my toes,
I know
life.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psGsLxRoaII&t=22s

My book Seedy Town Blues is on Amazon.
 194° 
dead poet
death is humble;
death does not discriminate;
death is everything,
but life.
 191° 
Sally A Bayan
East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions. principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.

we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice

we are  a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...

countless points of comparison,  
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood, through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...

we write......

we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities

yet, we await the marvels of each  morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...

years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through hours, of day or night

while you exist in your own part of the world,
as i, in my hot, humid cosmos, long for cold.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May, 19, 2019
(a love poem, edited...for all Hello Poetry writers)
(a repost from May 2019)
 186° 
Grey mirror
Perhaps another chapter completed,
Abruptly you must say, you didn't see it coming.
It was fun and folly with a hint of healing.
At first the story was not appealing,
Then finding oneself reading
in elaborate details, basking in such entertainment,
Occasionally arguing on its illogical stance.
Out of the blue, the story threw in scientific facts and unsolicited advice,
Followed by apologies for the untamed lingua.
Somehow the familiarity lingered,
Seeking tranquility in every chapter.
 184° 
nvinn fonia
During the 7th Annual Interactive Achievement Awards, the Academy of Interactive Arts & Sciences nominated War of the Monsters for "Console Fighting Game of the Year", which was ultimately given to Soulcalibur II.[24]
 175° 
K E Cummins
This is such a small life,
Battling no demons but our own.
And yet, I see an adventure here,
An adventure, dear,
And I think you might be worth the risk.
we're going on an adventure!
 166° 
Airi Lightmoon
A plastic bag for the two of us.
Natural medicine to share.
Take a little bit, and it'll send you there.
Where? I'm not sure I can only depict what I saw.

A woman, beautiful and strong. Her eyes closed as if she was asleep. Green in color, she pulsed her image into me.

Was she telling me that she was a part of me?
Circles surrounded her, characters I've never seen in between.

What does it truly mean?
Is she one who created me? Claimed me?
I can't say.

And I look for her, still, to this day
Who was she? My first thought was that she was Mayan. I don't know why, but during my trip, I was so sure, yet I still can't find her
 164° 
Dhruv
The fall that leaves the traces of cold
Footsteps with chilling fog
bruised hand with warmth of blaze
That gives the hope in unspoken eyes
The hand which was frozen with twist of fate,
softens with the half century wood
An ember that tells the story of survival
Black Robe
High Bench
Pursed Lips

Furrowed Brow
Hand to Chin
The Perfect Pose.

Letter of Law
Bias Hidden
Masked Indifference.

Walk the Mile
Tighten Straps
Pull the Lever.
©2025 Daniel Irwin Tucker
All Rights Reserved.

Societal character assassination in general.
 162° 
The Haunting
I wish a small heart,
could have lunged,
but the air is tight
and what's ripped apart,
I can't communicate
the only red of tarts
is ex-communion
and my guts do burn
a tasty steak demonian
 161° 
Morning Star
I look for warmth as I am here to be loved and gently lit
I am a sweet and gentle soul
Yet strong enough to lift
A little more of wisdom
and a little less of fear
I search for company of wolves at night
In daylight I am fair
I can be free and creative
I can be an angel at times
I also can be the unpredictable
And release my inner thor
 150° 
Stifin
In my final moments ticking by,
I like to be in a place
With a beautiful night sky;
With my family seeing my face,
Smiling saying one last goodbye.
Pleace be ready to embrace
All of us with the saddest cry.
A poem about you in your deathbed. I like this poem it's short but emotional!!🌺🦋
 150° 
betterdays
Koala In tree
Sonorously sleeping now
Tonight theyparty
At the moment we ha have small group of koalas  in the tall trees across the road' during the days ***** of chewing or sleeping fluff...at night there is ***..loud expressive ***.. but hey the babies they make are  just too cute too cate
 145° 
Khadi Alza
I was pulling out my hair,
I just wanna shine!
So put on your war paint.
I had a dream so big and loud,
That somedays you're the only thing I know.
I paint my face with glitter in the morning light,
'Till I saw blue-haired boy.
Hey,
It's cruel you know.
 140° 
Akira Chinen
There are things
that only the heartbroken
can understand
and dear son
I hope with all my broken heart
that one day
you will understand
these things too

a pain so beautiful
that only love can see
that everything broken
everything broken
is lovely too
 138° 
Maria Etre
Maybe my heart
was born too small
for the love
it carries...

That's why it
shares it
just to
give itself
breathing
space
 134° 
Millie
Why would I eat if the lies inside me fill me up? 'Til there's nothing but half-truths trapped inside. I plead, scream, beg for someone to hear my cry but it's locked deep within me.
The pain I feel when I look in the mirror; why? Why do I hate myself?
Hate my hair,
my hips,
my thighs,
my stomach,
my smile.
I won't look anymore.
I can't bear to see who's staring back.
Shatter the mirror!
Distort the already broken image.
How much more damage could I do to myself before I'm through?
The scale wails when I approach; the fourth time in a day. When the numbers fall, I let out a sigh of relief, but when they rise…
What can I do?
What would you do if you couldn't be you?
Everyone's words are pointless. If its not the voice inside my head it doesn't matter. Nothing can satisfy my need to feel empty—to feel proud of the monster I’d become.
 127° 
José Gorostiza
¡El mar, el mar!
Dentro de mí lo siento.
Ya sólo de pensar
en él, tan mío,
tiene un sabor de sal mi pensamiento.
Today was tough going
but knowing how tough
things can get
I got going too.

'We have never had it so good'
oh
please tell me if you could
when was that?
 92° 
JA Perkins
I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
feel every embrace.

So believe me
when I say you're
the one I've always
wanted and that
I loved you before
I knew you.
An amazing thing
 92° 
silent echo
Me Tarzan you Jane
misogynistic ape man --
lord of the jungle
 83° 
S R Mats
The scent of my love
Was rose and sandalwood
Placed in strategic locations.

Yours was patchouli,
Which you rubbed into
Your mustache and beard.

And with each kiss;
Each time we made love
We created our perfume,

The Scent of Our Love.
New lines came to me just now in the shower!
 82° 
Albamaine
I've got an online bestfriend
None of our circle and family intersects
So i know for sure when he dies i won't even know that that day is his funeral

Or could be the other way 'round
But that's lyfe
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