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Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
A Wonderer, and
A word–weaver,
Holding few experiences
Volume with substances
Crafting those threads
Self-defeating, self-preserving

All good old memories,
Rescued by an ink
Release ownself,
Enable to rip the darkness,
Image and its’ reflections
Eclipse of reality,
A dream within a dream
Wish to acknowledge
A travelling soul.
Genre: Abstract
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
dixie krause Dec 2016
he sits unrequited.
he stays where one could see him,
but not where one would acknowledge him.
he stays in a circle,
existence and presence known by those close to him.
he stays unbothered.
acknowledged or not—
he remains there.
Viseract May 2016
Sometimes distractions are better than reminders
In a way they can help to guide us
Through emotional turmoil and troubled times
Sometimes it's better to have them as your guideline

Other times, I may say, reminders are best
To ensure that the past is properly laid to rest
That you understand what was, what has been
And fully acknowledge what you have heard and you have seen
Àŧùl Jan 2016
To thank each one of you,
Today, I take the opportunity,
By taking names for your support.

For being the source,
First of all, I thank Life,
For the inspiration she was.

She guided me to Hello Poetry,
Introduced me to new friends,
Broke up ultimately however.

Then I thank Timothy Salter,
For his own and his family's,
Articulate poetry helped me.

Madam Hilda writes as amazing,
And as amazing is their daughter,
It is hard to tell if Marian wrote it.

It's helping me learn more,
Respecting it has taught me,
Had to be paid to earn more.

Not forgetting Gitacharya Vedala,
For he elaborates on every detail,
Thereby helping me experiment.

Same is for Pradip Chattopadhyay,
Hinting of Rabindranath Tagore,
He's the poet clad in sombrero.

Their pure physics at soul poetry,
Helped me learn experimenting,
With sheer hollow truthfulness

I then engage in remembering,
Elsa Angelica for inspiring me,
Her own poetry is developing.

She inspired me to improve,
My strengths & weaknesses,
She taught me being lucid.

Then of course I thank Sukeerti,
She taught me being beautiful,
Without being too explaining.

She encouraged my writing,
Always was their as a friend,
Giving me her positive inputs.

Madam Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Squires,
Aptly mature her poetry is always,
Very much to learn always exists.

Her persona is respectable,
Definitely motherly her aura,
Making her a poet so reputable.

Several other poets fascinate me,
Equally instead of less or more,
They all teach me the lessons.

Madam Sally A Bayan is there,
Her sweet mature bits of advice,
Best complemented by her poetry.

Shayana Shrikanthalingam,
Seeing all her polished poetry,
Not such a difficult name for me.

Ever inseparable they are,
Brandon & Earl Jane Nagley,
They are the immortal lovers.

And I recognize the beauty,
An Indian model here on H.P.,
Poetry surely as cute as herself.

She is the most elegant girl,
On Hello Poetry and in reality,
Bhumika Fulwani I refer to here.

Finally, I express my gratitude to her,
In my life she's the ultimate one,
Now I needn't anyone else.

She is my Pooja Shah,
She is exclusively mine,
She is here forever to stay.
I have a very poor memory.
I might have missed some names.
So please forgive me if I have forgotten you.

But I assure you that I have full respect for you.

My HP Poem #992
©Atul Kaushal
JR Rhine Nov 2015
Privilege: written on my skin
I swear I'm on your side
Though I lock my doors when you pass by.
Try to ignore what's within
The enraged masses to whom I spoke
Though I'm guilty of what's battered down their throats.
Get me by the *****
The phallicist marvelously displayed in power
Squeeze out every drop of lust; watch me shrivel and cower.
Place me within these walls
Walking along your glass ceiling as I dream
Fondling your ******* on behalf of the company.
I'm no passerby
Though I weave you on the street like a fleeting ghost
I serve like you're a growth and I'm the lucky host.
It's a **** good lie
To myself; believe I'm not guilty too
Of all the hate and greed that's crippling you.
As a middle class, Christian, heterosexual, American, white male, My privilege sickens me, as is the deep satisfaction in my comfort sickening. But what can I do about it? I supposed the first step is to acknowledge it in depth and breadth.
GGA May 2015
Oh, stay away with your blanket so warm.  
Wrapped in the comfort of lies you have borne.
Like clouds with weight, convene upon my chest.
In the fog of emotion, it is fierce.
To confess this feeling, true to my core,
Unleashed in admission, dead heart, no fear.
Like waves in a fury, they toss, they pull;  
The wind scatters much, not this does it touch.
The steadfast burden, comfort of despair;
Depression is gray to those unprepared.
To free this blanket of anguish and woe;  
The ear of another to hear your hurt,
Shiver your shiver, acknowledge your quake,
This blanket of depression will soon yield.
Find someone to talk to. Depression is temporary if you are willing to fight.
Rockie Apr 2015
I skim the page
For any sign that
You acknowledged my presence
Atop the rooftop party that day

I skim the page
For the sign that
Everything was marginally magical
Below the ground of our feet that day

I skim the page
For I have seen the sign that
I needed to see.
Dallas Phoenix Apr 2015
Decipher the bowels
that slushes out through my imagination
Crystals and xylophone chimes
Pouring out the ink wells of sensation
Don't pivot pickets to my position
I can't stalemate this war for expansion
For my tongue is a swollen pickle
Dipped in bitterness
and ****** by the lips of semantics
I groove in the basses of basics
and grow a garden for further foundation
For my tongue is a swollen pickle
And boy is it's perfume amazing
I mean
Can you smell the awkward amps?
Pumping veins with Crayola visions
or a Chaplin transcript with deadpan humor
Are you experienced enough for social division?
My tongue is a swollen pickle
Say whatever the hell I wanna say
Crunch me when you digest this sour thought
For the reign of excitement's here to stay
Annmenphis Feb 2015
Acknowledge is bigger than love
It's not bigger than trust

If I'd ever lost faith in you, me or humanity
Then reach out after the falling and the missing integrity

Give yourselfthe chance to actually trust someone so much, that you can let them love you without any tracks of fear
I'll guarantee you, acknowledge will instinctively appear


a.j
Jude M Salazar Dec 2014
I bring you a message,  one simple and true

Want what is real, not plenty but few

You shouldn't look past such small events

To absorb every scene, all the colors, all the scents

See yourself change while time passes by

The times that you live, the times that you cry

Little do we acknowledge small parts of our lives

Things that have no meaning but are sharp as knives

In some cases, we will never see the things

Life will still go on, even if you miss the message this poem brings
Everything  starts with a begining
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