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Bijan Nowain Feb 2015
Lounging upon the grassy knoll
Mindful, restful, enlightened soul
Clouds dividing, break apart
Sky’s a canvas, alluring art

Sun’s shining, departing gloom
Rising warmth, flowers in bloom
Lustrous light, glistening dew
Silky grass, sky steel blue

Lush fields of tranquility
Subject to vulnerability
Pad and pencil writing prose
Lying comfortably in beloved repose
Little Azaleah Jan 2015
I** remember how we met,
you were there sitting behind me and how I never noticed you.
You would tell me about how my childish ways caught your attention.
I remember the letters we would exchange between classes,
telling how much we adored each other.
Those late night calls and voice recordings we sent,
you would say I was beautiful even with my messy hair.
The songs you would sing,
the laughs we shared from the jokes we tell no matter how bad it was.
I remember the strolls we used to take,
and how your hand felt warm against mine.
The flowers you'd give randomly,
and that smile I adored.
This is the memories of you I remembered.

?

{ E.I }
Hidden message.
Mara W Kayh Jan 2015
Traded in my dreams for
A house and garden
So you could sit at my table and
Dine with me,
Beloved.

Before,
I was just a guest
Lost in your house.

Now
You and I
Can sit face to face
And see each other
Through the veil
Of searching and dreams,
For the very first time.
Don't know what I'm really trying to say here. But it somehow makes sense to me.
skyblueandblack Jan 2015
She was holding on to a man broken
every gesture made, every word spoken
was a desperate cry from a place so deep
that he can only reach it in his sleep

she holds him together so the pieces don’t fly away
keeping her balance as he kneels to pray
sometimes he sees her, sometimes he doesn’t
sometimes he lives in his past, sometimes his present

she implored, she beseeched
she tried action, she tried speech
if you cannot love me, let me know
if you will not love me, let me go

But he holds on, as if holding on for dear life
as if he is drowning and every stroke is in strife
as if she is the only thing keeping him afloat
as if she was every single word he ever wrote

and his eye remains to the shore -
someplace clear but far
it seems within reach yet
more distant than a star

more and more it appears an exercise in futility
finally admitting it is beyond her ability
she drops to her knees, eyes up to the Master
trying to prevent her heart’s impending disaster

the weight is so heavy, so hard to bear
hope only comes in the form of a prayer
with hardship comes ease, promises the Beloved
but try as she might, she cannot rise above it

despairingly close to losing all hope, she implored
her tender hands bleeding from the double-edged sword
would letting go bring relief or a tortuous void?
would her heart remember the previously enjoyed?



~ epilogue:

Then one quiet night upon an angel’s wing
she heard a voice that only an angel can bring
somewhere between a sigh and a scream
somewhere within  a half-awakened dream

She watched him float above the ocean waves
his  feathered wings skimming the waters surface
catching rays of sunlight into pristine prisms
a radiant reflection of blue-green and turquoise

From the edge of clouds,  he finally spoke
and his words became a poem
singing sweetly behind smiling eyes
gliding together over the ocean foam
http://skyblueandblack.com/2015/01/12/between-a-sigh-and-a-scream/
doubt creeps into me
it's been months since
one of my poems have trended

why is my writing no longer resonating with people?
does hello poetry hate me?
should I just stop writing on this site?
irrational questions flurry trough my mind.

i take a deep breath and listen to my heart.
I write because it's what I do,
and I share my writing so that I may be helpful to someone else
which includes me helpful to me.

I write because my heart to ease my doubt
I write to connect with the Creator
I write, so I do not drown in my words

I breathe more deeply and let go of comapiring  myself to others
I do not need outside validation to experience that
I am a child of the Beloved
so I "let go and let God"

I'll keep coming back to Hello Poetry
and keep writing to be true to my own heart
thanks for letting me share
I have been judgin my poems and myself in the back of my mind, because none of my poems have trended for months.  I keep on writing on this site anyway, but this was my attempt to let go of results and to just give myself to the process.
Barbara-Paraprem Jan 2015
Don’t we encounter the beloved
just everywhere?
‘No, that is not him!’ we say.
Or him over there? ‘Never ever!’
We seem to know exactly
what he looks like
and are slamming in this way, maybe,
one gate of heaven time and again.
We were only mistaken
once again.
How right we are.


© Barbara-Paraprem, 2015
Pamella Dec 2014
Writing is the way to my existence:
what my heart beats for,
my lips kiss,
my mind thinks,
my skin craves,
and my soul hungers for,
I make known
through words
that my pen bleeds
to write across
your skin made of paper.

- PMT
Entry no. 7: Body Poetry.

Actions through words.
Pamella Dec 2014
There are two sides of goodbye:

Good, as to
"It was good seeing you."

And bye, as to
"But I must go."

- PMT
Entry no. 4: Good Side, Bye Side.

Goodbye has always been the easiest farewell but the hardest hello. Tell me what you think, stranger.
Pamella Dec 2014
And in my heart,
it stung like thirty thousand whips
when you left me
without a note of goodbye.

And in my mind,
it burnt like thirty thousand torches
when I remember
your promise.

"I will never leave you."
And like the leaves of Fall,
you did.

- PMT
Entry no. 3: The Promise.

For all the one who left and got left behind.
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