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176 · Aug 2016
verily, verily
hellopoet Aug 2016
how sad can we all be
we've killed off possibility
on the altar of selfish parody
176 · Sep 2015
untitled mess
hellopoet Sep 2015
capital
orbital
unnamed
machinations
pursuing elusive
amelioration
ends up in
bewildered
consternation

●○

176 · Jan 2016
when words are all you have
hellopoet Jan 2016
it is needful and kind
● to stay at a distance ○
for just a moment, still
while these words come
○ forward to the front ●
and be duly  recognised*




●○
°
175 · Oct 2015
apocalyptic aftermath
hellopoet Oct 2015
in the aftermath
silence echoes
rising above our mushroom cloud

after all's been said and done
there is no more of you
now, than there is of me*




_ _ __ ✒
●○
°
175 · Apr 2015
washed of brain
hellopoet Apr 2015
lead me onward
allure of indoctrinated
heavy footed steps

traipse in white letters
inked on white pages
then ask me, why?
175 · Mar 2017
plog 321 | limbo
hellopoet Mar 2017
no experience is quite as sobering
and equally devastating as when
it clicks that your happy place is
in fact not happy at all but delusion;
it's galloping into the sunset on an
overcast and sloshing, muddy day
174 · Oct 2016
bon voyage
hellopoet Oct 2016
your varied one-nighters
are a psychedelic journey
heavy on the shutter release
but leaving the lens cap on -
a self-guided tour for two
is far more appealing
174 · Oct 2015
on top of your game
hellopoet Oct 2015
just because you're a pro and
● cope and turn it all around ●
doesn't make it less difficult,
definitely not any less lonely
174 · Sep 2015
theories of relativity
hellopoet Sep 2015
beauty, they say,
is in the eye of the beholder.
ergo, if feet smell like cheese
or cheese stink like feet
all depends on the nose
of the smeller....*



●○
°
hellopoet Mar 2015
I guess it all should make sense
When they'd never lose their wood
Their arms always outstretched
And always firmly based at its root
So what's all this fuss running about
It's the one thing that floats their boat.
From a news article this week.
172 · Nov 2014
flightless words
hellopoet Nov 2014
it has been said that poetry
is the straight and narrow road
to a woman's heart;
for me, alas, it has been the escape pod
from that woman who once
but no longer has regard for me
172 · Nov 2015
it's all about spin
hellopoet Nov 2015
a thing lacking in beauty
finds nothing of joy, ever;
it's uncomeliness increases
and will never be celebrated
an unsightly recollection

passed on each generation,
so make the most of opportune
moments to leave a mark
whether in ugliness or beauty
kindle always, that inner spark*


●○
°
172 · Dec 2015
tucked in for naught
hellopoet Dec 2015
it has finally arrived
the belly of night
no longer offers
dark mysteries
or mortal fright

and these million
scurrying thoughts
scour through his mind
with a deafening march
that leaves him blind*




●○
°
170 · Oct 2015
unchained melodies
hellopoet Oct 2015
It's easy to face
the open road

when you're
bound for freedom

so, put on that 
drive music; we're off!
170 · Dec 2014
submersible
hellopoet Dec 2014
Gone underground
So that is the score;
In view of which
I can't say much more.
170 · Dec 2015
thumb-struck | barely green
hellopoet Dec 2015
as a seed planted
too late of a season
your face is a poem
that will never
come to fruition
and still we lift a
***** and dig*


●○
°
169 · Nov 2016
Empathically wanting
hellopoet Nov 2016
funny faces one and all
each one standing ever tall
'til Dawn drops Night's shawl

and red birds begin to call
then senses start to brawl
'til all negotiations stall

making all skin tones crawl
and each one feeling small
funny phases, one and all
*just a li'l silly, ditty rhyme*
hellopoet May 2015
'

would you 
for the love of 
me 
tie this lace 
upon a tree 

when the wind 
upon it blows 
my heart 
on yonder river flows






_
○●
°
169 · May 2015
a hero yet to be sung
hellopoet May 2015
~


I look at this body of work
and recognise the amount of effort & devotion
that have perseveringly been invested
and in the same breath, realise that this is a man
whose poems shall never be celebrated or cherished.

But it had not deterred him from writing his thoughts
and baring his heart on lines of verse; oceans of metered lines...
His love of language and thought and life evident
in an overwhelming voluminous compilation of nurtured words.
This is a man who knew honesty to the inner self and his Muse.





_ _ __ ✒
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°
169 · Sep 2015
counting sheep
hellopoet Sep 2015
while the night
fraternises with
forbidden horizons

secrets of the universe
tv-snow, static blizzard
teasing but never seen*




●○

~more insomniacal musings
169 · Oct 2015
can't get any isser
hellopoet Oct 2015
would they be
any less -deceased-
or anymore dead

if it got spelt D-E-D?

s'pose what they is
is what they are
none's the wiser*




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°
168 · Nov 2015
one touch
hellopoet Nov 2015
just one touch is
all that's needed
to enter a soul &
yet you're never
around at all ○●

- - these branches

need to be pruned
○● ○● ○ ● ○ again;
their brittle twigs 
~ mock these dull
and rusted shears*




●○
°
168 · Nov 2016
untilled dirt
hellopoet Nov 2016
-not a prayer left
to utter and meet
dire needs make
us aware of power
that is not there;
a surprise in grace
that opens a face

perhaps there is
something in sun-
lit raindrops that
waken seeds in beds
of loam, maybe more
than gardeners' care
or fertiliser's flair
167 · Aug 2016
by way of thanks
hellopoet Aug 2016
such a beautiful uplifting
as you partake of and join in
this adventurous pursuit
of expression and articulation
of words and lines that adorn;
that shape and form this myriad
of otherwise hidden thought & feeling
167 · Dec 2015
disgusting truth
hellopoet Dec 2015
when sadness listens
fear and anger dissipate
--joy dances once more*


●○
°
167 · Mar 2015
World Poetry Day
hellopoet Mar 2015
Had I known much earlier than I have ,
It would most surely have been spent
With more intention and purpose.
Then again, there is always next year!
Resolved during the 30th UNESCO session to proclaim March 21 as World Poetry Day.
DIRECTOR-GENERAL'S MESSAGE ON THE OCCASION OF WORLD POETRY DAY (21 MARCH 2000)

Paris, March 15 {No.2000-22} - On the occasion of World Poetry Day (March 21), celebrated for the first time this year, UNESCO Director-General Koïchiro Matsuura is launching the following message:

"Among the many different forms of human expression, poetry has a major and distinct place. It has always stood apart in the temple of literature. The ancient bards often expressed themselves through this rhythmic construction of words.

"But poetry is more than a rigid codified literary form. It is the basis of every branch of literary and artistic expression. Do we not say of novels, paintings, musical compositions and films that they are poetic?

"Poetry is not very demanding; a voice or a sheet of paper are enough to give it life. We meet with poetry at all times and in all places, thus proving its universality and transcendental nature.

"Every culture identifies with its poets through their ability to give life to its underlying yearnings, it most secret dreams and its shared hopes.

"Yet, poetry is also an incomparable means of intercultural understanding. Learning it in his earliest years helps an individual to develop his sensitivity, deepen his understanding of the complexity of the world, to understand others, through the refinement of art and to steady his feet on the road of life.

"Since its creation, UNESCO has developed a programme for the translation of poetic works from all over the world to make them available to the greatest number and so participate in international dialogue and understanding.

"And so, celebrating this first World Poetry Day, I invite the authorities, associations and civil society everywhere to do everything in their power to restore poetry to its traditional role in the life of the community in order to pursue its universal vocation in the service of cultural diversity and peace in the world."
167 · Sep 2015
why
hellopoet Sep 2015
why
bump up or repost--
just in case you missed out
on reading this

perhaps like those
after school tv reruns
or those movie remakes

imagine: live streaming
and podcasting in
very slow motion*


●○
°
166 · Mar 2015
spectres in the hall
hellopoet Mar 2015
I would have died some time ago,
and several times over, since.
Lost upon myself, my day of birth:
As well as of the reason to be born.

In a gruelling process of ascent,
There upon this ever wearying rut;
mind and heart raised white flags,
Leaving behind an ill-worn tune.

Perhaps it explains this spectral jaunt;
my erstwhile existence from me torn.
165 · Oct 2015
stuff you would recall
hellopoet Oct 2015
Would you know my gait
if merely my words parade,
while everything else lay hid?

Perhaps, should you have shared
in my thought and conversation;
maybe your soul would recall-

once, some time ago, I know
we rode our waves back to shore.*



_ _ __✒
●○

hellopoet Oct 2015
everyone's got their reasons
even those that say they don't
everyone's got their seasons
whether they live it or won't

our ears are designed to hear
and lips were made to kiss
the batting of your lashes
turns stony hearts to bliss

for a time and half a time
this pen will cease to scribble
until reasons find their clime
then again resume its ripple*



_ _ __✒
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°
165 · Oct 2015
mistle-tree
hellopoet Oct 2015
I've seen that tree
And it calls to me;

In mind's reverie

A longing to be free
Take me away, I plea!*



●○
°
164 · Apr 2015
spectres in the hall
hellopoet Apr 2015
I would have died some time ago, 
and several times over, since. 
Lost upon myself, my day of birth:
As well as of the reason to be born.

In a gruelling process of ascent,
There upon this ever wearying rut;
mind and heart raised white flags,
Leaving behind an ill-worn tune.

Perhaps it explains this spectral jaunt; 
my erstwhile existence from me torn.
164 · Nov 2016
someone recently said...
hellopoet Nov 2016
'There are some wonderful
poetic lines that flow here,' they said;
'but if it's meaning eludes you,
then mark this poem on form alone, and say:

"a lot of modern poets jumble words together
leaving out much of meaning, without
allowing the poem to be read, and understood  
by the readers' searching minds."'

how contrary to other poems--
to be read and understood without
challenge or mystery or fun, meaning
just falls open like your daily news broadcast


let us then consider the difference
between biology and romance
whose meaning lay hidden
within the myriad of applied sugar
as with the case biology in contrast with romance;
if poems where to fall open 'wearing its meaning
on its proverbial sleeve, ' at every instance, then
we'd all best summarily dismiss, on the basis of
'word jumbling' and 'lack of meaning,' denigrating
of 'modern poems' as inadequate to explain or resolve
the issue of not having understood a piece of verse;

there are distinct moments when verse necessitates
more than a standard run of the mill 'fair go' for
it's splendour and depth to unfurl and take wing.
don't mind the ranting feel... just let off some steam as some sophisticated bully worked their vile imposition quite eloquently quite recently. My hope is that you won't experience the same demeaning and devaluing at the mercy of such personalities.
164 · Jan 2017
a royal pain
hellopoet Jan 2017
a queen of not so long ago
said to a queen of yesterday
move aside, you're in my way
to which she swished her train
the other stood as frozen rain
and neither did a foothold gain
163 · May 2015
waking up to you
hellopoet May 2015
°

While I slumbered
in the night
and dreamt my Muse
had taken flight
an opalescent moon
had touched my brow

to kiss my cheeks
of fears, for now
above bold mountains
kind stars arrayed
your wonderful gift
of verse displayed




_ _ __ ✒
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°
163 · Oct 2016
paradise lost
hellopoet Oct 2016
it clings to vacated cup's base
icy drink's very last drop

bottoms up, not a chance
to partake of love's libation

had there been other chances
of a remix or extended version;

not a coin left but pocket lint, in
an ever-growing emptying space
162 · Sep 2015
travelling companion
hellopoet Sep 2015
years and seasons passing
persons moving on, away
from moments, perfectly
converged; perhaps still
memory sweet in time

parallel courses, across
pioneering spaces, once
again unite, wayfarers
through portals, dusks
and dawns of rebirth*


●○
°
162 · Dec 2015
politically corrected
hellopoet Dec 2015
political correction
never rose a moon
never set a sun
nor cure cancer
or ****** enhancer
bottomlines remain

very little to gain, but

a worn-out refrain
may uncover truth
somehow missed
for lack of a chance
to give this once over
a secondary glance*




●○
°
hellopoet Apr 2015
What's hard about dreams,
is getting stuck in the dreaming.
161 · Oct 2015
heal thyself
hellopoet Oct 2015
this, realise:
we ourselves
are physicians
to our own
ailments*




●○
°
161 · Oct 2016
whispers
hellopoet Oct 2016
smoke rises
grains dance in the wind
and dogwoods are butterflies
that ride the sky
160 · May 2015
where we were
hellopoet May 2015
'

Post counter's clocked
a year's worth
of daily poetry;
a century
of friends and
commentary.

How is it possible?
that even here,
in this very place,
life by numbers-
we can't hold dear.

Perhaps, as in a road trip
flying past milestones,
it's all a blur
until a window's rolled down
an apple core's thrown out:
a fleeting glimpse of

where we were.




_ __
○●
°
159 · Oct 2016
perhaps tomorrow
hellopoet Oct 2016
done and dusted, deplorable stink
anxious cereal bowl filled to the brink
whose talk is faster than walking

height of vulgarity, hidden ingenuity
missed passes prelude missed opportunity
and flies stick petrified on shadowed ceiling
159 · Nov 2016
restless sleep
hellopoet Nov 2016
it has finally arrived;
the belly of night
no longer offers
dark mysteries
or mortal fright

and these million
scurrying thoughts
scour grappling mind
with a deafening march
leaving caution behind
158 · Sep 2015
simply | solitude
hellopoet Sep 2015
turn your chin
lift your gaze
peer through the haze
nowhere to drop a pin

turn down the din
***** out the blaze
cheer through the craze
everywhere you look is spin



●○
°
hellopoet Dec 2015
get in and get out
of bed: morning, night,
in and out --- again
breath in, breath out
all day long --- strong

          until (we remember)

reminders to self; whether
winter must be so much colder
for those with no warm memories,
and how, in our embraces we've
already mimed awaited spring*




_ _ __ ✒
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°
157 · Mar 2017
reflection | plog 331
hellopoet Mar 2017
when it's been so long
now being woken up
from protracted stupor
and glance at a mirror
only to be let down, again
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