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MeanAileen  Mar 2017
I Am...
MeanAileen Mar 2017
I am warmhearted and icy cold,
with a pretty face that's getting old.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.
I am petite and cuss like a trucker,
slightly naive, but I'm no sucker.
I am a sinner with a halo of gold,
an open book with secrets untold.
I am a hypocrite but always play fair,
a bleeding heart and I don't care.
I am a mother who acts like a child,
crazy, impatient and easily riled.
I am spontaneous and I am a bore,
forever forgiving, I still keep score.
I am unstable and wonderfully wise,
a ****** deviant in sweet disguise.
I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am shy and I am outspoken
with a heart of glass, easily broken.
I am awkward and well refined,
lost, insightful and a little love-blind.
I am respected and I am addicted
shamed by burdens, self inflicted.
I am a perfectionist and I am a slob,
unbiased and shallow, an inept snob.
I am nocturnal, a creature of night,
blissfully ignorant, typically right.
I am cautious and I have no fear,
a loser and quitter, still I persevere.
I am brilliant and easily amused,
over-zealous and under-enthused.
I am impervious with wounds to heal,
a habitual liar just keepin' it real.
I am witty and weird and mean-
I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
A lil bit about who I am...
Jordan Aug 2013
Yes, I do believe in something. I believe in being warmhearted. I believe especially in being warmhearted in love, in ******* with a warm heart. I believe if men could **** with warm hearts, and the women take it warmheartedly, everything would come all right. It’s all this coldhearted ******* that is death and idiocy. - D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover
Sad boi  Sep 2018
Moses
Sad boi Sep 2018
I gaze into the soul's windows
And what do I see
An abyss of muddy water
But if I look closer I can see
Specks of stolen sunlight
Streaks of the purest gold only
Prospectors can begin to imagine
By just looking I can tell what a
Gracious, warmhearted, good-natured
Person you are
That all the disingenuous individuals
Fathom
Just by looking
Moses if you are reading this, its not for
you;) - sad boi
st64  Jun 2013
Twist of Blue
st64 Jun 2013
how he loved his sweetheart queen
she always wore the silver bracelet
he gave when she turned sixteen
now their kids are growing; how time has flit



10 a.m.

Eyes opening, sun comes streaming through the windows. It's so late!

I rise, feel so groggy....what's this weighty load on me...?
I've been sleeping, yet feel profoundly *weary
.
Where is everyone?
"Muriel...?"
I get to the bathroom to wash and shave.

My wife appears at the door, "Honey, where have you been? Oh, we haven't seen you in so long... Welcome back! Come down for tea, dahling."
She pours a glittering smile and reaches up to touch my cheek with the back of her left hand, fingernails painted deep red...her nuptial rings still a dazzle after so many years...but she....
"Alright, dahling?"
"Y-yes, dear."

She had never called me darling...or even dahling....before...!
Huh?
And off she goes, to the kitchen.
Welcome back?? did she say?? And her eyes were shining so bright...
Wait a minute....just  hold on ....what....??
I shake my head, unable to toss some heavy feeling....a dense cloud in my head.



10:30 a.m.

Now I'm dressed and freshened up, I head down.

Feeling better, I see my warmhearted and humorous son at the pine dinette table.
I smile warmly as he turns to look up...I remember the promise that we'd go fishing this weekend.
"Hey, budd....."
I reach over to touch his hair, but he flinches away..!

"Who's this, Mom?" Kyle demands hotly.
My wife gives a bright smile which doesn't quite reach her eyes and says: "Now, Kyle....behave. It's Daddy.."
"Oh, he's just .....tired, ok."

She waltzes over and politely hands me a steaming mug.
What in the name of....???
Over the cloud of coffee, I watch them all.
Little Jenny, but my jolly toddler...now on her mother's hip...watches with wary eyes and reaches out to scratch me, her pacifier hanging from a blue ribbon, like a noose from her 'happy-smiles' bib.

"But Mom, he's been away so long...for years and..."
I hear him whispering sullen and lizard-like, to his mother....but he's hissed into silence.

What in the heck....?
"Now, children," Muriel says patiently, "go play out in the yard..."

Oh, I'm feeling so frazzled!



11:00 a.m.

I decide I've had enough.

My wife is at the sink, thickly busy rinsing cups and plates; she smiles sweetly, humming.
She never did like doing dishes....
Now there she stands, looking all coiffed and made-up, hopelessly incongruous...

I shake my head; thoughts roll and collide, like mysterious marbles across my mind-floor...
Kyle watches me hostile, from the garden...arms folded defiantly across his chest.
Jenny's on her tricycle, red as a fire-engine.....eyes blankly staring, bent on crisscrossing her scalene triangle trip.

I turn to ask: "Muriel, where's your bracelet, dear? You always have it on."
"Oh, dahling...don't you worry. It's upstairs on the dresser."

And yet.....I was there earlier whilst dressing, and I didn't see it!

Baffled, I step out to the kids.
I prune the bougainvillea and then rake some leaves. Hairs stand up on the back of my neck....
It feels as if I'm being watched...when I look up to see, they are all quickly resume their activities.
Muriel just keeps on that shiny smile for me.


11:30 a.m.

This is it.

As I rake, some leaves make way for a clearing in the yard.
Bending down to scoop some up, a shiny reflection catches my eye...there's the silver bracelet with that beautiful twist of blue as gemstones.
What was it doing here...?

Still pondering, I see my wife's head **** up from the kitchen window...lips curling back...oh, no smile this time...body looking too *****...eyes like saucers, way, way too interested.....

I look down again...move some more leaves.....a curled hand....But it looks like ......

I recognise my Muriel's hand, her clear and pushed-backed-cuticle fingernails....her arm..her face....but.....
she's here.....!!

What the.....??

I turn round slowly to look.....only..... too slowly.....







how I loved my sweetheart Muriel
who always wore her silver bracelet
with that beautiful
twist of blue




S T, 11 June 2013
Partly inspired by movie 'Haunting in Salem'...just some ****** film I couldn't finish....lol
Dozed off and wrote this thing, instead :)


sub-entry: none
Cast out entirely this time around.
There's a beautiful world waiting,
But it's easy to be blinded by what you think is beautiful in a beautiful world.*

In the dark for so long.
The retina I own captured false images
Of what i once  believed in.
So much effort stored in a mirage,
lodged in doubtful recollections.

I want no sympathy,
I can only evolve through the chasing of symphonies.
Villainous, aren't you?
The conflict is the enemy.

I'll do away with this blame game,
You're just so awfully gifted at how you play.
I was the warmhearted prey

Fooled into what appears to be defeat,
Due to stupidity.
I saw what I wanted to see,
And clearly my vision was wrong.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

(Originally written 10/31/10
Revised 9/27/14)
I-sun Mar 2021
Don't be egoist
Get back to me
Don't think about others' thought
Come back to me
Like the coldest winter going to spring
Or maybe the warmest spring going back to winter
🌨️🌤️
Michael P Smith Jul 2012
Soothing, sensational,
elegant as the harp,
Semblance, integument,
covering of the tarp,
Ebullient, vivacious,
precision of the mind,
Vehement, appetent,
keen & one of a kind,
Perfervid, chocolate katydid,
desirable & luscious taste,
Delectable, ambrosial,
palatable & consumed with haste,
Sybaritic, voluptuous,
enticing to the senses,
Libidinous, hedonic,
enriched untightened hinges,
Efficacious, puissant,
robust delight to the eye,
Potent, consequential,
immeasurable symbol of the sky,
Pulchritudinous, gorgeous,
magnificent as the autumn sun,
Resplendent, vivid, lustrous
as a diamond-lithographed gun,
Sympathetic, affectionate,
condoling soul of a angel,
Altruistic, benignant,
warmhearted with no mangle,
Serenity, tranquility,
composure of divine peace,
Harmonious, amicable,
placid as the slow moving creek...
Z  Sep 2018
My Universe
Z Sep 2018
I want to be close to you like Mercury
to see your full glow
and brightness of your intimacy

I see you like a Venus
because of your unsurpassed beauty
and your unfathomable, abysmal kind of love

You are like the Earth
where living with you is not a problem
and with you it is always easy to breathe

I see your ardent desires like a red Mars
to fight a war to cover and protect me
even sacrificing your own life

You give a gigantic precious tenderness
and enormously unselfish affections
like a Jupiter

You give me snowball rings like Saturn
that gives remembrance to all the beautiful
things that we had been in the atmosphere
of treasured memories

Your warmhearted axis
that tilts on the rocky core of my life
is like in a deep ocean of Uranus
that clasps me with grasping arms

You are like the depth the Neptune brings
who takes me beyond the known
to what's alive only in my wildest dreams.

On a very far and infinite distance
deep into the darkness like Pluto
you are perfect to get lost with
nothing matters but You and Me
At the Matra, in a country,
Lives my elder and dear auntie,
Warmhearted, hardworker and hale,
She is from whom I know this tale.

A bumbling deerling on a day,
Went astray onto the highway,
He fell over a fallen trunk,
Breaking his leg with crack and clunk.

While the poor was sadly weeping,
The old lady stopped there, seeing.
Taking him up, right to the lap,
She took the fawn home for a nap.

Curing him and cherishing him,
Not just healing his broken limb,
But giving him fresh hay, water,
As if she were his dear mother.

Katy the cat and Doug the dog,
Nestled to him next to the stove's log,
Sharing humanely their one nest,
They could not hurt the little guest.

The fawn's leg is quickly mending,
He could dance without pretending,
He could dance since he is not *****,
However, he wasn't in the mood.

His doleful brown eyes in the far,
Are hanging on the morning star,
While the morning's red-purple lights,
Are playing on the mountain's sights.

Evening winds are chasing the haze,
Then, they get lost in the hills' maze.
"My fresh crops are waiting for you,
Come home, deerling! We all love you!"

Tears sprang into the deerling's eyes,
He wished to go back, without lies,
Only if his mother wouldn't worry,
Only if his auntie wouldn't pity.

Day and night he wants to go back,
Whither the smooth grass is his snack,
Where are fancy fields of flower,
Waiting for their deerling brother.

Where squirrels are jumping around,
Woodpeckers are hitting the trees' crown,
Cuckoos are singing gay sonnets,
And ants are wearing heavy puppets.

He's waited by the stream, by the wind,
By the running clouds there sky-pinned,
By the dewy blue-bell flower,
By the fields in colour-shower.

The old dame is weeping for him,
However, she won't hold back him,
Each one has a home to live in,
Being deer woods or human housin'.

Escorting him until the gate,
The dame must tip-tap back and wait,
Waving to him until seeing:
"Farewell, my dear little deerling!"

Pacing slowly, ambling stilly,
Door is clacking, curtain's swishy,
She is watching her dear from there,
For last, he may look back to her.

Her helpless little animal,
Hurries more and more his footfall,
And then, as fast as the lightning,
He is on the mountain, climbing.

But on the top, under the sky,
He turns back to say a goodbye:
"God bless you, field, and my old dame" -
Like the wind, he left as he came.

The summer fleets, the leaf falls down,
Every beech tree balds its ex-crown,
Snow blankets the houses, the lawn,
The old lady's living alone.

Nature's waking up, flowering,
She doesn't forget her deerling,
The Earth is turning once and twice,
The gate is knocked by someone nice.

She looks out the window lattice,
What a strange nightly guest that is?
Moonlight beems upon the country,
She opens wide the wooden entry.

Her hands opens in hugging blow:
A deer, deerling and a mother doe,
Standing there, then letting them in,
Her heart's beating, recognizing:

Her deerling became a deer dad,
Having a son now being sad:
His forefoot's broken a little;
They visited the hospital.

He asked her with his bare eyes:
Please Dame, cure my son with your ties,
Don't let him crying dear auntie,
May God return you your bounty.

Mist is afore them, fog behind,
They dressed the cape of night to hide,
Leaving their little in her arm,
Knowing, she will cure all his harm.

The little got cured one by one,
He was almost able to run,
And before the beech throws its mast,
The young buck is in the forest.

At the Matra, village border,
The Old Dame within the portal,
She's not alone why she would be,
Cold or hot, she's a busy bee.

She's surrounded by bucks and does,
They're coming back as visitors,
Winter-summer, from year to year,
They bow their head to Mother Deer.

The village folks loving her too,
They give her nicknames, one or two:
The Old Lady within the dear,
Or just simply Dear Mother Deer.

Red poppy, carnation, sage bloom,
Are decorating her mild room,
In big vases and little jugs,
Rainbow colours like made of drugs.

A flower from Steven Peter,
Another from Flower Esther,
A third one from Johhny Seral,
Surely, they'll be good persons all.

The wild flowers followed by songs,
The room's full of musical tongues,
Children singing is far and near,
While laughes and cries Dear Mother Deer.

At the Matra, in a country,
Lives my elder and dear auntie,
Warmhearted, hardworker and hale,
Her golden heart is in this tale.

Salt loaves wait the little deerlings,
Swiss rolls wait for the new-comings,
Be her guest, you too, I just say:
This is the tale's end; run away!
Fazekas Anna - "Öreg néne özikéje" translated by me, Benyamin Bensalah, from Hungarian.

12.10.2017
Travis Green Jan 2021
His hazel eyes
invites me inside his desires,
unrelenting chemistry,
bright dimensions of bliss
rousing my soul
with his deep and tender affection,
his gratifying vibe
that eliminates my doubts
about exploring the unknown
and feel your strength
sway inside my system.

He transports me
to the most breathtaking places,
writing poetic songs on my skin,
bringing me into the beat
of his immersive world,
a chocolate love that comforts me,
enhances his inspirational messages
to me as I luxuriate in his warmhearted embrace.
Michael Mitchell May 2013
Upon entrance into the realm of reality
My first image basks in the bliss of your smile
You knew that bearing two offspring was sheer destiny
All the love that you bestowed was definitely worthwhile

When I’m in pain, depression, or sorrow
You welcome me in a warmhearted embrace
Such care heals my soul for a better tomorrow
Your unrelenting support propels me in the life race

Your grace branches to lands beyond reckoning
Your unique ability to serve others is a true virtue
Your duties are far from easygoing
You deserve much more than the credit accrued

You fought valiantly when things turned gray
You should have a nice rest on this Mother’s day
This poem was a gift to my mother for mother's day. Because of this special holiday, I decided to post it on Hellopoetry so that all my brothers and sisters can read it. Enjoy:)
-M&M
Jesse stillwater Dec 2018
Mushrooms popping
up everywhere
moving pine-cones
like unturned stones
not even the weight
of lapsing maple leaves
can keep them down
as they reach up for sun

Four legged soul-mate
friskily passes them by
on her way to sparse
apples the deer didn't find
looking for a moment
to feel sun's slithering balm
where the mushrooms
bask in a warmhearted calm
Jesse — 2018
a walk outback
a minute ago near sunset

— The End —