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 Apr 2014 Kurt Kanawa
Cade
Sometimes I am unraveling,
slowly coming apart,
at the seams,

Sometimes I am strong,
standing tall,
and acting quickly,

Sometimes I am nice,
helping the others,
being selfless,

Sometimes I am cruel,
hurtful to everyone,
and uncaring,

Sometimes I lose hope,
but that does not,
ever last,
Semi-okay poem
 Apr 2014 Kurt Kanawa
Cade
Safe
 Apr 2014 Kurt Kanawa
Cade
your eyes they bore,
straight into my soul,
asking, "please stay safe"
knowing how utterly full,
I am of,
crazy and dangerous and,
world changing ideas,
and the urge they give me,
making me totally,
unable to keep still,
 Apr 2014 Kurt Kanawa
Cade
I hear your screams,
you are calling me,
yelling my name,

I feel the panic,
where are you?
where are you?

everything is crumbling,
around me,
I am helpless,

I see your face,
twisted, hurt,
reaching out to me

a sword slices me,
right through my middle,
slicing my skin,

they have won,
they have taken us,
I am dying,

No, no
it’s too late,
too late.
I can't write like you do
I can't really compose
Grace has always eluded me
In movement and in prose

You write of such big things
But they are still all the same
Me? I can't really toy
With ideas so insane

I'm not a professional wordsmith
My art hasn't been trained
When I write, the words flow easy
Unabashed and Untamed

You and your words are sculpted
Precisely, with finesse
But with a subdued gloss and lack luster
So twisted so suppressed

And now I see my dear self
Finally in a clear way
Not in my movements or in the glass
but on my inked page

So if you ask me, dear self
Which cage do I choose?
I'd choose my dented brass one
Instead of your golden noose.
By day she was,
A bouquet of red roses
Sultry with honey
Smelling of divine ambrosia
Giving more than I dreamed...

By night she was,
A bouquet of dead roses
Covered in cobweb
Smelling of poison and death
Taking more than she gave...*


© Raphael Uzor
Beware of such "gifts"
Let's go to the sea.
Let's swim and have a picnic on the sand.
Take every day one by one.

Let's close our eyes forever,
And just lay side by side.

Let's not talk,
Let's just be in love.
Yes, I said it,
I love you.

But all these fantasies
Just sit in my head
Untouched
By anyone.

No one knows that I long for the day
We will sit on a beach
Hand in hand

My secrets belong in my mind.
 Apr 2014 Kurt Kanawa
J
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.
^^^let us live through our poetry
You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.
i love you
your hair (though you like to cut it too short)
your eyes (the way they gleam when you look at me)
your nose (though you say it's too big)
your lips (they fit mine so perfectly)
your neck (it was made for my face)
your chest (my favourite pillow)
your arms (wrapped around me)
your hands (in mine, around my waist, on the small of my back, on my face, everywhere)
your legs (wrapped around me, or entwined with mine)

i love your jokes
your mind
your way with words

i love every fiber of your body
i love every thread of your soul

i love you and everything about you

*
i give you this.
it's of no use to me.
you're not mine anymore
your eyes don't gleam
and i don't feel you pressed against me.
i give you this.
remember what you had
and how you broke me.
keep it.
throw it.
just whatever.
maybe give it to the next
one.
i guarantee you
she'll never love you
like i did.

and just a p.s.
read all the poems
i wrote about you
and ask yourself
why you
don't have a heart.
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