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Is it a warm bed on cold night?
Is it a cup of coffee shared?
Is it eyes glimmering – book ending a candle light?
Is it a kind word or a gentle touch
Or is it simply understanding much?

I think a Valentine must be
Learning - Showing,
Pushing - Pulling,
Holding on for all your worth.
Never doubting - never pouting
Knowing that seeing isn’t believing
It’s more a matter of trust.
Daring to share
Without a care
Of loosing one’s own self.

Becoming one isn’t just fun
It’s knowing someone’s there
Looking for what we call love.
Maybe sometimes it’s just a matter of ****.
But when your heart is breaking
And there’s no place to hide,
If you find my hands upon your face –

I’ll be there by your side.
Love isn’t simply one thing. It’s all things rolled into one. It isn’t candy but it can be. It isn’t a card but it might be. It isn’t flowers but if it were you’d know it by the smell. So Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone on Hello Poetry. I hope each and every one of you have the best day ever. It begins with you!
Grace Spellman Dec 2017
you are a type of magic
that i've never seen before

and i want to learn all your tricks
i was writing my boyfriend his birthday card and one of the lines was "You're a type of magic I've never seen before." and it inspired this. Happy Birthday, e.
Glenn Currier Dec 2017
Would it be insensitive and unkind
to say I don’t like letters enclosed with Christmas cards?
Usually they glow with all the lovely and bright things
in the family that make parents proud.
You don’t hear about the dark underbelly
of their lives that would likely ruin your Christmas mood.
I suppose that is a gift.  But it seems so unreal.  

My wife wrote one this year.
It is mostly about adventures and comic misadventures
in our travels.  
A couple of the stories reveal the raconteur in her
and remind me of her dad who was a master storyteller.
Her letter brings a smile to my face.
But there is too much about my various afflictions -
detracting from my strong male image.
But at my advanced age, I care less about image.
And that’s a good thing.

So this year, have mercy on your friends
and don’t include a letter unless you type:
“Optional Reading” at the top.

Merry Christmas 2017
Viseract Oct 2017
So you say you're flying but deep down you're dying
Smile so crocodile I can sense you're lying

Plastic and fake prone to imitate
The snake in the grass leaves patience with Fate
Waiting too long and you got it all wrong
Singing sad songs to put the remorse where it belongs

Stay strong, head up, trust is a must
Don't violate the love by living like it's ****
Because once we are ashes there is no us
Just sorrow on the windowsill, filling gaps with dust

Mistakes will be made and battles will be won
You may win some but the war is not done
In the lulls of time we take time to have fun
And when its up in smoke we bare loaded guns

As we stand alone, so we live united
We take up arms and become divided
Withholding memories, we fight one sided
So we live our fantasies when the dogs aren't biting

Born for a purpose some of us never know
And as such we drag mangled cars under tow
We want to be remembered yet we all stay low
Want to live fast yet we all run slow

The hint is in the name but it's never us we blame
All praying for a change yet we all remain the same
A shame to run this, our Human Race
Ashamed to go out and reveal true face

Where are we now? What is this pain?
The mistaken take charge and the wise turn insane
We reach out our hands, but in spite we never grasp
The fingers lose grip and the numbers are cast

We take chance for granted as though it is not much
The coincidences we call luck eat you for lunch
I never liked this Earth and nor should anyone else
Yet I stand alone where my future needs help

Dumbed down we deal Death, a rigged trump card
From our very first breath until our very last
Peace amongst all is hidden in the chaos
Amongst the stars shine those who were misguided, lost
people are odd
Gabriel burnS Jun 2017
In my left hand a joker,
In my right a Jack of Hearts:
A wild card that will break this game
And I know in these crimes nobody can claim-
Their hearts back.

The dealer, the eyes of Judgement
Offers me a King of Spades,
Which I could use to dig up my grave
After you withdraw your red knave.

I dig my nails into my palms
The game is on
the stakes are way too high
my queen of hearts is
reflected in your eyes

Thumb is rubbing on that
ace of spades
the hard way always taught
I should know my place
but I cannot resist your call
A big thank you to Eleni who started me up on this one with her witty stanzas! I encourage you, reader, to pay a visit to her beautiful work! It's been a pleasure :)
Evan Crow Jan 2017
Never let the voice that whispers softly in your ear .
Dictate the direction of your soul.
As in his embrace you find passion but do you know truth?

Make no diffrence between the two.
For a fools logic often allows passion to blur the reallity .

For in blood promises writen agreements seem easy till the price need be paid.

Locked doors will not shield you from a end simply create your tomb .
On full moons and othet dark ocassions often there is light even within the darkness.

Did the promise not live up to the truth my dear.
Did that temptation just seem to sweet to deni .
We can ignore are nature but we are carnal animals just the same.

Death finds us empty as alone we must enter to whatever may be .
Never make promises your not willing to keep.

And so in your demise the whispers softly as they were spoken from a forgotten lovers release .
Were still lies just the same.
Terry Collett Jan 2017
You liked card games with Bart liked to sit there and watch him and his emotions play out as they did when he thought he was losing the game even if it turned out afterwards he won you in your white dress-white for purity he jested- and straight mousey hair and the white shoes you wore which he said reminded him of that nurse in the nursing home he went to as a boy who used to touch him in bed at night when she did her rounds and the other children were asleep touched him in places he thought unusual and thinking about it later as utterly ****** it was getting late the sky was dark and stars and a moon shone and you had lit the candle to give light and Bart stood there by the table-he stood as he got anxious of losing- holding his cards in his hand his other hands on the table him staring at you then the cards in your hands watching as you dealt them or laid some on the table you smiled at him he didn't smile but stared at you you're cheating he said how am I cheating? you said I cheat never you replied smiling unable not to smile at him with that look on his face he had an odd face-much as you loved him- his brown hair with the widow's peak largish ears elfish and brown eyes that stared and stared you put a card on the table he gazed at you as you put the card down any good for you? You asked he shook his head looked at the card you stared at him at his red jumper-he liked red it was his bit of revolutionary stand his ideas of communism much his own-I suppose you have a good hand he said looking straight at you both are good hands you said smiling I meant your card hand he said moodily not bad you said holding your cards against your small breast he held his cards behind his back and walked over to the radio and turned it on a fuzz of noise erupted then it settled on a station of classic music-he loved Bach he was a Bach addict- the music was Mozart a piano piece he walked back to the table and sat down his cards against his chest he was a genius Bart said who was? You said Mozart he replied you laid down another card he took it quickly and put another down in its place he smiled that's better he said the music was not too loud so did not distract you watched him as you carried on with the game Duncan's wife's pregnant Bart said you gazed at him that's her fourth isn't it? You said yes it will be he said poor girl you said having him on her having it away so often Clare is up for it Bart said moodily-he hated you saying things about Duncan- as she a choice? You said putting another card on the table of course she does Bart said he stared at the card but didn't pick it up you took the card and replaced it with another a useless card to you you looked at your hand of cards it was better Duncan was a Scot a big Scot and Clare was a small girl and you found it difficult to image them having *** him pushing her into the bed and thrusting into her like some old steam train into a tunnel Bart and Duncan had been university friends and Clare had been a student of art she painted water colour-not much good- Bart stood up as stared at his cards his ears moving as they did when he got either annoyed or pleased he walked about the room what's up bad hand? You said he paused no not that he said just thinking about Duncan what about him? You said eyeing your cards taking a card from the pack on the table and laying it down on the table Bart looked at the card then looked away he's having an affair Bart said gazing at you wondering what you might say who's the ****** *****? You asked picking up the card and putting down another card in its place your card hand was getting real good no one you know Bart said how do you know whom I know I might know her you said doesn't matter you're not to tell Clare it would do her mind in if she found out Bart said so who is this bit on the side? You said Bart hesitated looked at you then at his cards her name's Julie he said works in his office typical you said is she blind or ****** or both? She's a secretary and he has know her sometime Bart said you held your cards close to your breast and where do they go to have it off? You said you make it out to be cheap Bart said he loves her and the fact Clare is pregnant complicates things the Mozart ends and a voice mutters on about the piece I bet it does you said poor Clare I bet she thinks the sun shines out of his big backside Bart laid his cards on the table with a flourish the cards spread out like a coloured fan beat that he said you gazed at his cards on the table and smiled and laid your cards beside his how's that? You said he closed his eyes you cheat I'm sure he said just skill and luck you replied a Schubert piano piece started up on the radio Bart looked at you then sat down his face sulky you're not to say anything to Clare he said she'd not take it well you gathered all the cards together and shuffled them up another game? You asked no I'm not in the mood he replied I'd not tell Clare you said let her find out the hard way you said she won't find out if you say nothing Bart said grimly she'd tell me if your were bonking someone else you said putting the cards back in the pack I wouldn't do that to you Bart said looking at you with his brown eyes I'm glad to hear it you said but Duncan's thing is different Bart said he's fallen in love it's not just about *** it's love he told me and does he love Clare any more? You asked he didn't say just said he loved this Julie and they had *** a few times where did they go? You asked how do I know? Bart said in the office after the others had left to go home did he have her over his desk or on the floor? Why do you have to cheapen things? Bart said it's love and it has a kind of beauty to it you stared at him sitting there there's no beauty in betrayal you said he said nothing to that but stared at his hands on the table his fingers moving as if the table was a piano say nothing to Clare Bart said his fingers following each other on the imaginary keyboard   I'll say nothing you said Bart stood up and turned off the radio the room became silent bedtime he said you blew out the candle and the room became dark lightened only by the moonlight Bart went out of the room and you followed closing the door behind you and followed him up the stairs looking at his light brown trousers and black shoes knowing it was going to be one of those nights with Bart wanting to have it away wanting his ****** rights.
Lady Bird Dec 2016
all cards are on the table
nice concepts can get in the way
so beware the wild card  
friends with benefits
if only for a second; smile or frown
the muse of whatever wont stop
flipping choices will still sway
Let me talk about your intoxicated eyes
Let me take your beauty just as surprise
Through your eyes let explore seven skies
Let us establish real wonderful love ties

You and me are eternally chained together
You are my life let me just declare and aver
You are green ocean of beauty and I am diver
Love is a beautiful tune and you are dancer

Please induct me to care as personal guard
Allow to take charity from beauty as reward
With trials and tribulations life is so hard
I am a gambler let you be a real fortune card

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Viseract Jul 2016
He twirls and whirls with supernatural speed
His usual blue eyes, with smoky black gleam
In the midst of a battle, sword in hand
Master to master, friend to friend

A metal, black, that no-one knows
Owned by one associated with crows
His messenger, his ally, his beast of burden
Caws and calls his silent song of death

A mercenary, bounty hunter, with just cause
To right the wrong and return what lies lost
To defend, apprehend, to defeat the Kursed
A story riddled into my verse
As you could probably guess, I'm writing a story called Ace of Silence. The main character is Silence, the Blank Card. His calling card? A blank card. Weapons? A katana made from metal nobody recognises, two silent guns with similar make, set in a city called Kortal where gangs, drugs and various illegal activities are rampant. He is a good Bounty Hunter. Because if you're good at something, you never do it for free...
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