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palladia Nov 2016
in May 2015 ( i told you i had a large corpus of material that i was editing and saving up to publish in Sept of that year. funny as it is, more than a year later, that never happened nor probably will in the near future.

when i first joined HP in June of 2013, i received nothing but warmth and love. today, i'm closing out my account for good on this site and i want to send you the same. maybe one day i'll be back.

in aeternum,
remember to keep following your dreams : he who loses his dreaming is lost...
  Jan 2016 palladia
Christian Danner
I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.
  Oct 2015 palladia
You really have to watch those liberal males,
they'll spend hours and hours with you having
deep intellectual conversations.

They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric
theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love
for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry
about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair
long and most likely won't own a television.

But, they'll understand art and architecture and
literature. It's true that they probably won't give two
shakes about who won what football game, but they'll
dance with you late at night under the stars and they're
always looking for new ways to please you and usually
understand your deepest thoughts, often before you
understand them yourself.

They'll be your best friend and always treat you as
an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind
that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too,
because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike.
They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas.
They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and
the lives of others.

Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in
the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer
while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead
they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a
gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes.

Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
I wrote this in response to a derogatory comment about liberal men.
It sounds ridiculous but only I feel productive when I'm doing nothing.
Sitting back, just relaxing.
Popping blue beans, burning bowls of green.
And just thinking.
Daydreaming about how things could have been.
How things could still be.
But how things will probably be.
Just close your eyes and let music be your guide.

Entire lives constructed and played out
in grand fashion. A world so detailed
I would rather get lost,
And never come back to this travesty of a society,
so raw and primal.
so human.
My world is so beautiful and yet so depressing
because it's what ours could be, but never will become.
Anything to distract me from this.
The 24 year old burnout grinding through school because there aren't many options left.
So where will I'll be in 5 years?
I wont.
palladia May 2015
dear followers, those i follow, those who have messaged me, those who have critiqued me, anyone who has read my words, and those who have yet not,

thank you for spending your time with my work. you have made my 2 year hello poetry voyage a pleasant one.

i’ve had a rough start to this 2015: so many choices have to be made; stressful home-life; and i’m on the verge of a life-changing decision which i’m counting on to put me in a better place. i’ve lost the time to spend creatively inventing new word sequences to post here, as my last drafts are insipidly dull and were posted just to seem like i’m still here… but i’m not. i haven’t been able to write poetry for a year now! i’m just continuously revising old drafts that were written 2-3 years ago, so when those springs run dry, i will have nothing left to offer.

however! i have quite a few megalithic pieces i’ve been working on for over 2 years that i am expecting to publish here, probably no later than sept 2015. after these pieces (which form a book) are fleshed out and ready for publication, i have decided to stop running my hello poetry account and leave it up as a relic of my childhood. most of my poems on here are juvenilia anyways, written when i was 15 and 16 on the vast acres of deciduous north america. i’ve moved on with my life now. i’m in an entirely different place, much older, and hopefully wiser. i’ll try to stay sane these upcoming months and pray i don’t disappoint with my expected poetry explosion.

meanwhile, i’ve shared 2 of my most favourite poems in the world by repost in my feed (right before this message). they are reed kelsey’s “there’s a universe in his eyes” and yangliu’s “rangers edge of the city.” i would like to send virtual xoxoxo to reed kelsey and yangliu because your poetry literally spoke like nothing before to me; i’m not just speaking about mechanics, but your flow of beautiful lines/blocks of words i can only dream of writing. after years of gathering words i find attractive in books (trust me i’ve got plenty), both of you seem to throw those out and just use simple language to create an unimaginably genius arrangement. i’m jealous! yet i’m in awe. xoxoxo to both of you… i can never send enough.

thank you for reading this far and to everyone i mentioned above, much love. i adored my time here, and that’s what counts. and if you really miss me, you can find me on tumblr (if you try).

from all these years of work, suffering, and toil,
pluck me, and I shall glean the gain of an eternal laurel.

now in this triumph, I shall constellate
sail unafraid through stormy Symplegades
catheterize my fears, lost to my face

remember me, with all my glorious infantry
we’ll watch them obliterate the deeds
my laurel has yet to bring…

xoxoxo pallas
Appropriate music to listen to while reading the letter:
Observations of Self, by D. Burke Mahoney:
  May 2015 palladia
oh me oh my
his eyes are
galaxies of planets
and orbits
and you see stars
so clear you can
map every single

he looks at you
like you're his home
like you're a planet
and you've
wound him deep
into your orbit

because that's what
he needs and he knows it

and he looks at you
like you're the only
thing he's got in the

because you are
you're his home and his planet
you're his galaxy and his stars
Who says I can't write about spock and kirk
  May 2015 palladia
August before the arrival, cloud water hearted, Yula drift, long Sasa, Laji a monk's footsteps, I walk alone, walk in July.
Breeze disrupted my thoughts, I will stand in which to stay, at what station will also continue to drift, but life was however, learned to understand life, to understand life, learned in this way and the way the landscape room becomes indifferent, learn to be a wanderer. (Yiwu export)
Standing on the junction of the season, I do not know the years makes us hurry, or we go hurry.
Earth road, Journey, life mountain water a ride a ride, who can use words of happiness and sadness to resist the pace line prime years. I like the night, a person can go to find quiet in the memory, to the longing to stray, along the way, seen the earthly noisy, bustling seen the world, I think I should be quiet, give yourself a little heart lake, let my heart sink to the bottom of the lake, guarding a suitable melody, so that I can put down his heavy heart. Let yourself get a little dry soul to rest, get a little water moisture.
How many nights like repeat such feelings.
I do not know, tonight the cold moonlight cut the silence who dream? (Yiwu buying agent)
I do not know, who are independent of Migiura up for ages?
I do not know, a cappella blowing a flute in the moonlight hurt much Red?
Youth wind gently blowing, will we gradually grow, gradually happiness, sadness gradually, gradually, we are lost.
Our short life is to experience something, meet some people came. Some encounter in life, like gentle wind, snow, like (yiwu export agent) purity, should meet, then please cherish each other, give each other a warm smile, a warm hug, Xiangxi too, cherished, Should really gone, maybe not leave any regrets, I remember your world I have been to in my life have your shadow. Vicissitudes of time to write more than just wandering, there was a Shizumori, a quiet beauty. Sketch moonlight, I write and draw, describe all the thoughts became a ****** pieces of painting, set into roll of a roll, hidden in the depths of my heart, you can go to wait until spring, waiting to all things prehistoric, waiting for the world to the next reincarnation.
Life, melodious, memory or stranding, go learn to really make a person do a lonely wanderer. I was alone silently took years before the trip, like the horizon of their Su Yi Strider, became a vagabond, wandering around the world.
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