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I will fall in love
With the man
Who took

*The stars
For his eyes

The sweetest fruit
For his smile

The reddest plum
For his lips

The nightingale's song
For his voice

The caress of a mother
For his touch

Samson's strength
For his will

And the purest love
For his heart.
Will I find him?
On cloudless moonlit nights
When the world is silver and darkest blue
And silence seems to reign supreme
If you stretch your hearing inwards
You will hear the distant moans
Of long lost lonely dreams
Homeless and obsolete
Fading away
To become endless shadows

                                           By Phil Roberts
 Jan 2016 Stacy Mills
Cody Haag
Upon entering this world,
I emanated innocence that was profound;
By that and pure youth
I was wholly bound.

As I aged and discovered that
The world harbors many dark things,
I also learned that a person has only whatever
Light he decides to bring.

I am learning slowly,
But surely, over time,
That there is purity to be found
In this world of grief and crime.
Kicking pine cones , hands in pockets with my favorite scarf on ..
Outfitted like a business man with something important to decide ,
a lawyer testing a juries intellect , like an important subversive agent with a clandestine government ...
Walking the fence line , dressed to save the world someday , my flashy duds turning heads , yet their only clothes , and clothes never did make the man so they say !
Fancy leather gloves , gold cuff links , cashmere sweater with well planned schemes ..
Upscale hero with a prominent address , four star restaurants , high end assets ..
Caviar and red wine , penthouse vista .. Fancy cigars and first class tickets ..
I'm still Cocoa Cola , cheese and crackers , homemade biscuits ..
Forever overalls , laying hens and sour mash whiskey ..
Copyright January 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Jan 2016 Stacy Mills
Rhiannon
Want to play a game?
You know that one where,
The first person to break a heart wins.

The one where our anxiety is so bad,
We think that if we stay in bed all day,
That'll wash our problems away.

The one where the crippling pressure that still lingers from school,
Is killing you in college,
And you don't know how to tell anyone.

Want to play a game?
You know that one where,
We place a gun to our heads,
Count to three... then press the trigger.
The poem formerly known as 'First taste of bitter' has been rewritten to reflect the lovely people who inhabit this etheral poetic wonderland that is home to many and a refuge to many - inspired by HP's own Elsa
- thank you Elsa  :))

My first taste of HP

I was welcomed right away
Day one I had three friends
Peter Hamilton, Cecil and Ana
Is where my HP journey began

From another site I'd arrived
Not seeking fortunes or fame
Just a place to share poems
With people who feel the same

I've always been so welcome here
~ always made to feel at home
Thats down to the friendly poets
Who you all are, you know.

So many, many friendly souls
My, how that list has grown
Thank you HP - I glad I came...
I no longer feel alone



Special thank also to - Poetessa Diabolica, Niamh, Coleen, Shanna, Wolf, Brandon, Evie, ridicule, Beryl Dov, Donna and Sleeping Bag. Much love to everyone who knows me. X
HP =
H.elpful P.ositivity ,
H.ome (of) P.oets ,
H.appy P.eople
H.eartfelt P.oetry

Some readers will find that they have already liked this although they havent even read this (revised poem) - DONT PANIC! - as The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy would say. It appears that I have done something naughty by renaming and rewriting a poem that was previously read and rated. Thank you all. :)
 Jan 2016 Stacy Mills
Àŧùl
It was a cold night,
I was coming home,
And I didn't inform her,
As I wanted it to be a surprise.

War was over and I was going home,
The terrorists had been terminated.

I had stopover en route,
At a distant town I paused,
Famous for its winery,
I had got the finest ***,
For both me & my wife.

Obstructed en route by a blizzard,
I thought about my wife at home.

Waiting for the way to be cleared,
I slept because I felt so very tired.

A dream sequence started,
It was so bright and warm.

I was basking in the Sun,
My wife accompanied me.

Holding hands we're in the backyard,
Not a cloth shielded us from the Sun.

Composing poems we were,
Warm and hot ones as well.

I had said:
"Oh my honeybunch,
My buttercup,
I love you,
From the core,
Of my purest heart."


She had replied:
"Oh my sweetiepie,
My bigger baby,
I love you too,
From my heart,
And even my body."


But then the dream ended,
They had cleared the road.

The driver again started driving,
At a slow speed fit only for snails,
Still my rifle rattled inside the bad.

Now I reached my town,
I expected her in nightgown,
In the velvety green one she had.

Edging closer on foot to my home,
I observe incandescence in the hall,
Glimmering through the curtains,
I thought she was waiting for me,
Basking in the heat of the fireplace,
After a tiring day's work at the office,
She should have slept peacefully,
But here she was, I thought,
Waiting for her man to be back,
From the neighbouring state's capital.

With these positive thoughts on my mind,
I parried forwards in the snow,
And I thought I'd surprise her,
Telling that my work was done,
Earlier, much earlier than I had expected.

I produced my copy of the key,
And silently opened the door,
But then I heard some sounds.

Totally unexpected sounds,
Like the intimate ones in bed,
I wanted it to be some teleseries,
But then I noticed an overcoat,
And a pair of oversized boots,
Neither the overcoat belonged to me,
Nor the huge gumboots were mine.

It dawned upon me,
My wife had been cheating,
She was in the hall,
The indecent incandescence,
With the noises of it,
Filled the home after issuing,
From the main hall.

I immediately stepped back,
Closing the door silently behind me,
Then I went to the bus stop.

I entered the lodge nearby,
Took the bottle of *** out,
Drank it full slowly but surely,
Then I took the gun out,
Sank the *** in & pulled the trigger,
BANG!!!
The bullet dug under my chin,
It pierced me through my head,
Shattering the lamp overhead.
Didn't plan on writing such a grim piece but an undesirable event in my life has made me require to do it...

This is part 1/2 of Indecent Incandescence.

My HP Poem #951
©Atul Kaushal
Growing up is not easy,
Starting to see things as they really are,
Knowing life gets messy,
No longer wishing upon any star,
Growing up is not easy,
Thoughts take a new turn,
There's so much to learn,
Its exciting as well as scary,
At times it all goes well,other times fiery,
But its a step worth taking,
Living requires changing.
And growth is change, though change isn't always progress
Its a worthwhile process.
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