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When I first met him, our meeting was nothing extraordinary. It was nothing more than a mere exchange of words and a quick glance of the eye. We were a few years apart, which made me scared to talk to him. But yet, when I looked into his bright blue eyes for the first time, I felt like I saw something more within him.

At the time, I knew nothing but his name and I knew nothing about him as a person. Despite that, it was very easy to see the emotion trapped behind his blue eyes. It amazed me how expressive his eyes were, despite the fact that he was wearing a mask that hid is true self from other people. I don’t know if anyone ever noticed it before, because he really was amazing at hiding it. Even though I barely knew him, I could tell that he was hiding his real self.

Later that night, I was lucky enough to be able to look into his eyes again. It was the second and final time of that night, and this time I felt like I saw something different than before. I saw happiness. But, why would he be happy now when he obviously had a mask that hid his anxiety before? I wouldn’t realize it until later, but I believe that I saw my own happiness in him.

This raised many questions. Why could I see a glimpse of my happiness in a guy I had barely met? If there was a possibility of me being happy, I think I may have found it in him.

Two years ago, I had hope. I hoped that somehow, I could start talking to him and maybe become friends. And now, two years later, it seems that the stars have aligned.

Oh, and they’ve aligned alright. But not in my favor.

It was almost as if the space dust and particles in between the stars aligned just so I could see the shadow of his existence walking past me. But that same space dust covered my vision and left me blind, searching for the man that I had barely seen. It seems that my chances with him were made near impossible; he was put just barely out of my reach.

Everything was too perfect, too set in place.
I don’t think we were ever meant to officially meet.
If one tiny instance were to change, then perhaps there could be a chance.

But, I don’t think that whatever is out there - god or something - ever intended for us to be together. I saw my life in the reflection of his eyes, standing in front of me.
And in the next moment-

I never saw it again.
Some thoughts during a storm. Writing these story things really helps clear the mind wowie
I searched
the deepest depths
of the vastest oceans,
I searched way up high,
past the clouds,
in the bluest of blue skies,

I searched
deep in the hearts
of nature's greenest forests...
It turns out,
that I was carrying it within me
all along - only now, do I realise.

By Lady R.F ©2016
Such a lovely surprise to receive the daily
for my first poem upon returning to HP.
Two dailys in total in my time here...I'm blown away! Thank you all soooooo much!
Such an honor and a privilege

I'm so glad to be back home, here at HP!
I missed this site and everyone soooo much!
I'm sorry I left unexpectedly,
I really missed you guys!
Rosalie ***
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
A woman waits for me, she contains all, nothing is lacking,
Yet all were lacking if *** were lacking, or if the moisture of the
   right man were lacking.

*** contains all, bodies, souls,
Meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies, results, promulgations,
Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery, the seminal
   milk,
All hopes, benefactions, bestowals, all the passions, loves,
   beauties, delights of the earth,
All the governments, judges, gods, follow’d persons of the earth,
These are contain’d in *** as parts of itself and justifications of
   itself.

Without shame the man I like knows and avows the deliciousness of
   his ***,
Without shame the woman I like knows and avows hers.

Now I will dismiss myself from impassive women,
I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with those women that
   are warm-blooded and sufficient for me,
I see that they understand me and do not deny me,
I see that they are worthy of me, I will be the robust husband of
   those women.

They are not one jot less than I am,
They are tann’d in the face by shining suns and blowing winds,
Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength,
They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike,
   retreat, advance, resist, defend themselves,
They are ultimate in their own right- they are calm, clear, well-
   possess’d of themselves.

I draw you close to me, you women,
I cannot let you go, I would do you good,
I am for you, and you are for me, not only for our own sake, but for
   others’ sakes,
Envelop’d in you sleep greater heroes and bards,
They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me.

It is I, you women, I make my way,
I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable, but I love you,
I do not hurt you any more than is necessary for you,
I pour the stuff to start sons and daughters fit for these States, I
   press with slow rude muscle,
I brace myself effectually, I listen to no entreaties,
I dare not withdraw till I deposit what has so long accumulated
   within me.

Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself,
In you I wrap a thousand onward years,
On you I graft the grafts of the best-beloved of me and America,
The drops I distil upon you shall grow fierce and athletic girls,
   new artists, musicians, and singers,
The babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn,
I shall demand perfect men and women out of my love-spendings,
I shall expect them to interpenetrate with others, as I and you
   inter-penetrate now,
I shall count on the fruits of the gushing showers of them, as I
   count on the fruits of the gushing showers I give now,
I shall look for loving crops from the birth, life, death,
   immortality, I plant so lovingly now.
You are standing in the alley
Smoking a cigarette
You hear my voice but you can´t hear me
I smell the alcohol on your breath
Your arm is reaching for my waist
Your kiss has that bitter aftertaste
Your blurry vision slowly has me erased
I leave you feeling like life is going to waste

I don´t think you changed, I just think I closed my eyes
Holding on to hope as I watched the smoke rise
Just love isn't enough for me anymore
I can't be your freedom and your cure

You are standing in the alley
Smoking a cigarette
You can drown your sorrows, but I can't drown my feelings
You pour alcohol down your throat until it stings
You hear my voice but you can´t hear me say goodbye
You drank all the alcohol money could buy
Your blurry vision slowly has me erased
As I'm walking away from what you chose to embrace

I don´t think you changed, I just think I closed my eyes
and I know it was real cause you regretted all your lies
Just love isn't enough for me anymore
Your cigarette burns out and drops to the floor
I got inspired by songs on the radio.
Copyright @ Johanna Magdalena
When I was young
My old Dad said
Keep thinking on your feet.
Don’t lose your head
And fall in love
With the first cutie you meet.

I always tried
To pay good mind
To what my Dad always said.
To let his words
Find a proper place
In the good part of my head.

But Dad never told
Of seductive types
Who were after your paycheck.
They can smile at you
And then turn your life
Into an emotional shipwreck.

They act shy at first
Butter wouldn’t melt
But wait until a few dates later.
They finagle and flirt
And then do you dirt;
Make you ready for your creator.

I learned to slow down
And ask many things
To learn what she is all about.
Now I don’t find myself
Laid out on my floor
Gasping like a dryland trout.

Daddy was correct
When he advised me
To move slow and be wary.
There have been many
Of comely young lassies
I am very glad I didn’t marry.
From Marlboros, and thinkin horribles,
Each time I think of you is another cigarette gone from my pack.

I start my pack full, I test the weight, loving the feel of a full pack in my hand,
But with every thought, they start to slip through my fingers like sand, and find their way home on my lips, where my tears just fall off and drip.

I started with 20, doing so far so good.
Wait whats that? you called?? there goes my mood.

A thought of you, a image plus two and then Im done with a few.
(17)

I choke on my fears, while I clench my hair
I called you my dear, and now im done with a pair.
(15)

Anxiety is something which I so not lack,
Giving my breath to this dwindling pack.
(13)

You feed my addiction being the flame,
my heart burns black, while it bears your name.
(10)

I sit and ponder on these thoughts I wish to behave,
Two more ignites, to feed the darkness in which I crave.
(8)

My pack is now dwindling low,
As I struggle to maintain a steady air flow.
How else can you sleep, when you've been hit with such a harsh blow.
(6)

I have clipped my wings,
after i have fallen oh so low,
in search of my name in your voice, but it is another mans love in which you sing.
This cigerette is now the only thing that glows.
(3)

(Braxton) I remember from where I came and god its a shame,
I just wish the addiction never screamed your name

Empty. Like my heart, the hollow pack crumples in my hands, wishing to be filled.
But the self destructive cycle repeats again, and again. .
And I begin my pack full, yet again testing the weight..
Poem written with the help of my friend Braxton, this poem shows my struggles with my inner demons, and a bad habit.
Yes
I'm lost in my head
It's not that hard really
With the labyrinth in my brain
A left turn sends me to disaster
Go to the right and I find insanity
Around the bend I just might find
That happiness I lost four years ago
I'm going in circles
But I don't regret getting lost.
If I'd never strayed from the straight path,
I would never have understood
The beauty and horrors of life
I would never have known risk
I would not know what it's like
To be alive.
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