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 Mar 2017 Hannah
cait
repentance
 Mar 2017 Hannah
cait
ten days i will spend
asking for forgiveness
praying for redemption
getting down upon my bones
and whimpering at your feet.

please
kick me while i'm down.
to feel the snap of your toe
against my ribcage
is better than nothing at all.
I would rather be abused and forgotten
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Silverflame
Lying on the beach,
it's getting darker each time you blink.
Hear the colorful explosions up high,
the sky is in chaos, don't you think?

Forget what I told you,
leave those words to the tide.
The stars are peaking through,
my ignorance is wild and wide.

A handful of white rocks,
you smile like a maniac.
Breathing out hoaxes,
while I play piano on your back.

The fireworks stopped,
you gave me black rocks.
My blanket was made for two,
yet another startling paradox.
This is absolutely crazy. I can't believe my poem was chosen as a daily. Especially not when I know there are so many other, way more talented, poets on this site who deserve it way more than I do. But I thank you all of you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading, liking and the nice comments you leave. It means the absolute world to me! :) <3
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Lora Lee
timespill
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Lora Lee
depleted
of energy,
a weight of gold
upon my heart,
its heavy dull luster
pushes down hard
squeezing out
        the light
suffocating
    my staccato
of breath
     I crouch        
quietly
in the brush,
the next step in
my process
                 pending
a dense rock
of pendulum
swaying time
  tick ticking
in my blood
cells reaching
the boiling point
just shy
of spilling over
into froth
waiting for
this conundrum
        to unravel,
my inner tigress
about to unfurl
             her heart
    to leap
and pounce
from
   within
into the
  tight
white
          of blinding
snow, the silent
storm of  
      the unknown
forever
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2LQdh42neg

Thank you, everyone, for your support and lovely, warm comments!! It is so appreciated <3
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Styles
Butterfly
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Styles
Fingers sinking deep
               below your surface;
               seeping into your *****,
               caressing your crevices.
               leaving their mark; baring pleasure.
               coursing ecstasy through your veins.
           searching for the highest of peeks beyond measure
               scorching heat, blood boiling, the pleasure pains
               soothing your aching flesh
               in relentless pursuit; of higher depths
               guilty yearnings, urges run rampant
               as your ecstasy starts to progress
               heavy breathing your hands held abreast
               pungent liquids; drenched with desire
               a seeping puddle stains the mattress
               gingerly leaking, outlining your canvas
                a mist in the air, cooling your skin;
these shallow glimpses we share
as days grow long
the scattered thoughts swirl and bury themselves
in crevices of this old house
to be re-awakened perhaps
when we are many years gone
what can we salvage of this eternal bond
while the Sun buries itself behind the Oak
that we've watched grow from the kitchen window
since the days when our hair was thick and dark
and the smell of fresh cut wood was present
what words can I say to bring tears to your eyes
tears that would come from but a glimpse
that shouted my fervent love
we are captives of our timeless, undying, unwavering hearts
yet all that remains of this diminishing soul
would disperse like the final slivers of light
should I lose you
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Jonathan Witte
Nine years and still
we cradle our grief
carefully close,
like groceries
in paper bags.

Eventually the milk
will make its way
into the refrigerator;
the canned goods
will find their home
on pantry shelves.

Most things find
their proper place.

Eventually the hummingbirds
will ricochet against scorched air,
their delicate beaks stabbing
like needles into the feeder filled
with red nectar on the back porch.

Eventually our child
will make her way
back to us. Perhaps.

But I’ve heard
that shooting
****** feels
like being
buried under
an avalanche
of cotton *****.

For now it’s another
week, another month,
another trip to Safeway.

We drive home and wonder
why it is always snowing.
Behind a curtain of snow,
brake lights pulse, turning
the color of cotton candy,
dissolving into ghosts.

And with each turn,
the groceries shift
in the seat behind us.
From the spot where
our daughter used to sit,
there is a rustling sound—

a murmur of words
crossed off yet another list,
a language we’ve budgeted
for but cannot afford to hear.
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Traveler
ANSWERS
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Traveler
I will always feel your presence
Through these quantum
Ethereal waves
These strings they bind
Through our time lines
Beyond the conscious states

Countless questions
Reasoning why
Staggeringly suspect
Those subtle lies

It seems quite complicated
Yet it's as simplistic as can be
Along came a wind of change
And blew two spirits free
...
Traveler Tim
Hay folks thanks for stopping by
Come on over and visit our side of Hello Poetry!
See ya there!
 Mar 2017 Hannah
Shofi Ahmed
I wanted to reach out to the sky
Not to touch any star
Just to whisper to the Moon
How beautiful is you!

I was still stunned on the ground
Wandering down the sunrise hill
Amidst the flowing morning breeze
I heard of a whispering
‘The eyes above gaze on the ground’
So close to me it drew
As if murmuring tell me about you!
 Mar 2017 Hannah
ADS
Life (Haiku)
 Mar 2017 Hannah
ADS
Enjoy the small things
Because you will yearn for them
When you feel empty
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