Nessa dieR Mar 15

Time has passed—painful, long years
My words have ceased to flow,
And I am drowned by all these tears,
since you left long ago.

This river—my own torture— flowed passionately in and out.
Rains of my own sentiments poured into a hollow beach.
Helpless cries of restless doubts.
It was you they failed to reach.

Finally, after everything I had seen
Red skies and starless nights
I became aware of what it means
Having you once again on my sight.

I found you in the shadows of the moon—the brightest of all stars
And now that you returned, I can heal the stitching of love’s scars.

Max Southwood Mar 11

What is the void?
Nothingness manifested?
There can’t really be such a thing…
How can there be nothing?

It’s impossible.

You can’t fault me for having trouble wrapping my head around an idea as intricate and deeply infinite as nothing. From a young age, we’re taught that everything, even empty space, is created from protons, neutrons,  subatomic particles…

Empty space is always made from something else.

Some describe the void not as a place, but instead as spiritual enlightenment and/or liberation. As detachment from everything. Some describe entering the void as the moment one realizes that if you try too hard to understand then you will miss the point; as the moment where the student realizes that he will never be able to anticipate his masters surprise attack, so, instead of being anxious he accepts his inability to know; as the understanding that holding on is suffering and letting go is freedom.

There is no way to truly talk about the void, about emptiness, because there is nothing tangible to be expressed in words. And yet, our curious human minds are so fixated on using dialogue to try and articulate this commodity.

Words will always fail.

Even if we could wrap our heads around this idea of emptiness, this complete and total lack of anything (comfort, love, hate, despair, joy, happiness, agony(all pieces of this complicated fabric known as human existence)) we would descend into the deepest and darkest of melancholies. The sudden moment of realization that non-being and being are one and the same and that the only thing separating the two is the awareness of being aware and the unawareness of being unaware would be too much to endure. The weight of realizing that nothing is everything, that we are 0 (placeholders for nothing (the extinction of our species before a return to nature untainted imminent)) would prove to be the strongest link of all in these shackles of existence.

What is the void?

Maybe it’s best not to ponder this any further.

Chirayu Writer Oct 2016

Hello friends & wishing you all a very
An auspicious & prosperous DIWALI.
"You aim always for a new glow for a whole year;
Hard work glows your day for the time
Likewise Light is a glowing nature
It is a hope, faith and light shine in your life,
A Candle glows for an hour;
Matchstick glows for a few seconds;
But a wish glows forever.
Here is my wish for a glowing Diwali and glowing year till next time....
 ..............HAPPY DIWALI............... 
On this auspicious festival of Diwali
I wish & pray that, may everyone Life filled with a Sparking color of happiness & Light of Prosperity. May this world & people of this country live with a calmness & Fortune for love.
Diwali is one of my favorite festival & it is also the festival of light where houses are decorated with candles & many more things, making it a perfect festival, it is also one of the most beautiful festivals celebrated around the world through Indian culture, it seen a metaphor instincts for self-improvement and as well representing for a new beginnings. It involves a strong belief in giving to people in need, and performing every ritual by traditionally, a time for new clothes to be worn & Indian sweets is seen as a varieties of colours and flavours are eaten during the celebrations.
So wish you a happy diwali & May this writing platform of hellopoetry continues as the same mark of living, an originality of making a talent into a magic light.
Again, like every festival I use to mention to invite from my heart to all this cheerful people so I am inviting everyone to be a part of Indian festivals and culture... everyone is most welcome to India..
India is Country to experience different Tradition, with a beauty of joy, beauty of passion, beauty of love , beauty of art & beauty of everything that you have never experienced before...
reality is the real life.. ....
Thank-you..

-Chirayu!.

Happy Diwali Hello Poetry..
Vinyldarling Oct 2016

Hi, it's me.
But, I mean, you probably already know that.
And you probably already know what I'm about to say, but now you can have proof of the words that run around in my mind endlessly while you enjoy your mothers pasta dinner.
Yes, I miss you. And maybe you don't know it yet, but one day you'll realize what it really felt like.
I've never held a gun between my hands before, but it felt like I was pulling the trigger, guiding the bullets through my heart as you watched and didn't stop me. As I placed the blade between my chest to ensure the only thing that was really keeping me alive was ceased from pounding and then you cleaned the weapon clean so I couldn't remember what happened if I somehow survived.
And although these are things that didn't happen, it's what I feel. And my feelings may be metaphors, but they feel far more than just a figurative language used to compare a thing that has meaning and something that is just simply there.
But maybe you already knew that.
Maybe I'm just saying it for the hell of it.

Oskar Erikson Jun 2016

It's D-Day.
Essay due.
Some foolish theorem on:
"Relativity & You"
All typed up,
ready to print.
God I hope the printer,
Still has some ink.
DAMN.
No luck.
and
the switch is stuck
on colour.
F*ck.
E-Mail maybe?
The Net'll save me!
I think the bills been paid lately.
Router on:
Cursor gone,
Mouse has died,
Keyboards fried,
Oh what a wonderful way
To start a College day.

angela Jun 2016

to me,
love was always a mystery to me. i never truly understood what it was.
though, i like to think that i did and sadly, i thought everyone else knew what it was too but just like me, it was a mystery.

as someone who grew up without knowing what it truly meant,
i always thought it was something you can look for again after it's gone, something that will make you feel better on your bad days, something that will complete you.

i have loved so many times, or so i think i have.

but honestly, aren't we just a bunch of people throwing around the word love thinking that we know what it means? unintentionally making someone else feel special, not knowing what the consequences of using the word love really are?

now that i am older,
i think i finally understand.

that love is something no one can ever talk about without mentioning how much it actually hurts. loving someone meant truly wanting them in every way possible. most of us cannot handle how imperfect a person may be, and we will try our best to change them because "we only want the best for them." love is not finding perfection in someone's imperfection, but instead it is accepting the imperfections in someone and learning to love it as well.

i know i still can't tell you what love really means but i have found someone who helped me understand what love might be.

i loved every bit and piece of him, i loved everything about him. all his flaws, his appearance, his heart, his personality, his tantrums, the way he talks over me when he gets excited, how he tries to see eye to eye with me even when we have completely different point of views, damn i loved everything. everything that i never thought i'd like, i did anyway. i didn't only want him, i needed him. he did not complete me, but we go so well together. i never wanted to change anything about him even though i wanted to see them do better. i was willing to go through it all with him, good or bad.

is this what love really is? the fact that you know someone's bad side and you still love them anyways?

you see, no matter who i meet in my life and maybe, just maybe i might love them but i will still be able to pinpoint their flaws and maybe those are the things i won't like about them or the things i wish to change about them no matter how much i love them because i am selfish.

but with him, it's different because i loved it all. i still do. i never wish to change anything about him because that wouldn't be the person i love anymore and that's just something i can never do with anyone else, i can't love someone else like this.

he taught me how to be patient, kind and accepting.
but most importantly, he taught me how to love.
sadly, this love is only meant for him and no one else because love is not meant to be thrown around like how we did to others before we have met each other.

i guess your last lesson was teaching me that love also means wanting to see someone obtain the bigger and better things even if it means doing so without you.

i can finally say this to someone and mean it,
i will always love you, no matter what you do, where you go and who you meet in life.

thank you, my love.

another one for him. to the one i really love, to the one who has taught me so many things. i will cherish everything you've taught me. every word said i will hold dearly to my heart. god has bigger and better things planned for you and i guess it's just not me, but i am forever grateful for our paths crossing, even though we do not get to continue on each other's paths together but i will always be here for you because, this love is only meant for you and it will last a lifetime.
Alexandra King Apr 2016

How Almost Became My Favorite Word.
There is always that one constant in your life, that person or thing that is always there, never late, that never grows tired of soaking up your tears during the late nights when everything seems to go wrong. My rock solid anchor is James. He is my best friend of two years and boyfriend of a yeat. He never fails to pick up the phone, never hesitates to wrap his arms around me when my atoms start falling apart and making combustions in my brain, he always texts me in the morning, never shows up late and always makes sure I am okay. He's my 100-year-old willow tree, sturdy and safe, branches that shade my head from the rain and hold me high in the sky when the sun is out from behind the clouds. Needless to say, he never fails me. Over time, I grew used to having James around, to him replying to all of my texts and always picking up the phone. One day he didn't pick up. Didn't respond to my ‘good morning' text, or my ‘sneaking away at lunch to tell you I love you' message and when he hadn't got back to me by the end of the school day, I knew something was wrong. Every hour I called him, every 30 minutes I texted him...twice. At eight o'clock I had given up, decided he was ignoring me and turned my phone off. As though he was reading my mind I heard the phone in my dorm ringing, so I went up to it and saw James number flashing on the I.D. I picked it up freezing my vocal chords, preparing the ice queen voice I've been practicing my entire life. I took a deep breath and right as I was about to say something I know I would regret I heard a shaken voice say my name. Any semblance of anger or hurt dissipated from my body as I told the man, whose voice I never heard so much as shiver that I was there. I sat silently in the suddenly too hard chair as I heard him struggle to spit out the words I realize he has spent all day practicing, and finally, I heard a voice more tears than sustenance say "Alex, I might have cancer."

    I never knew how fast your world could turn upside down. Now I am not a weak person, I have lived through more than most of my friends, I survived a mother's suicide, a father's absence, and a stepmother's abuse and more destructive bonds than I can count. But at that moment, I felt my stomach sink like I ate a thousand pieces of osmium. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I just sat there. Listening, hearing James tell me he might be dying of testicular cancer and hearing him break down for the first time in years. I remember knowing I had to be strong, having to accept the role of the calm, optimistic girlfriend as I sat there assuring him he was okay, that the doctor would just say it's just a bump, not a tumor, not a deadly thing that could rip my best friend away.


For the next few days, I was in a daze only floating through classes and waiting until I got to talk to him next, waiting until he got the results back. He was a wreck, and so was I but I never let him know how scared I was, I just sat there and promised him I'd be there no matter what no matter what the test results said. I never let my voice quiver when we were on the phone, but right when the call would end I'd walk empty to my room and let the tears slide down my face. I'd stay there for a couple of minutes, fix my makeup, then go back and text him and eat and act normal with friends. I love him too much to show how scared I was because I knew it'd scare him.

    A week before I got the call, James and I were talking about words. He asked me what word I despise; I said ‘Almost' and when he asked why I explained to him that almost means that us humans came to the brink of something amazing but fell short just so many times that we made a word for it. The day I got that call I officially changed my least favorite word to malignant. Malignant is the reason my sister died three days before my birth, malignant is the reason my mother killed herself, malignant is the reason I own my uncles Rv, malignant is the reason I dyed my hair pink for a 12-year-old girl, and the reason Sierra stopped attending school. Malignant is the reason my stepmother doesn't have a daughter. Malignant means I spent three weeks vomiting every morning while I waited for the doctor to finally the results back from the tumor that sprouted over the summer as I worried at age 13 if I would end up inheriting my families genes, ones with holes where being healthy is supposed to be. Malignant is the cause of almost because every cancer patient I've met coming so close to something beautiful but falling short.

    A few days later I learned that almost can be a beautiful word when I heard in a voice more sunshine than sorrow "It was almost bad, I'm okay, though, it's not cancer, and it's just a weird blood vessel. I don't even need surgery. I'm not going to die." and I remember laughing like the Joker as every feeling of fear and doubt was ripped from my body in an instant, and I remember him laughing along. I learned a lesson that day that no matter how strong someone is and how much they care for you there will still be times when they need you to be strong for them. When you have to shove aside your feelings and simply tell them that everything will be okay, because in the end sometimes that's all they need to hear.

this is an essay i wrote the topic was "What's a negative situation you've been in and what has it taught you." during this time i was going through a cancer scare with my love. he is okay now and all is well.

When I was five (and this I barely remember mind you, I was five or so—maybe younger, who's a boy of five to say—and all memory is as cloudy as Seattle in copyrighted images or Tom Hanks movies I've never seen or something) I carried a dead squirrel into my small white boyhood home by it's bushy tail. I presented the creature to my mother as a gift, like a dog with a dead rabbit between it's jowls, limp and nubile. I guess it could also be a rabbit.

I was proud. In elementary I took upon myself to own the blacktop playground for what it was; a mound of black something to step and pound on and run and scrape knees and kick things, forms of kickballs or tetherballs, always red. I remember standing in line at Sunny Vale Elementary and promising the girl behind I was not cutting but not quite knowing how to say it.

The summer after we moved. I don't remember school after that, not until third grade, but it was different. My attention felt divided. I was a boy in two, interest piqued by different sectors of memory, such a selective doll. I remember reading with my father and having fun with my mother. I remember my father's beer and my mother's youthful smile. She will be forty-three years this year. My attention is divided. I am a half-man in two.

Julie Langlais Jan 2016

Tasting fresh knowledge
My drowsy brain makes it painful
I struggle with absorption
Overloaded to keep up
Re-reading something three times
To finally understand

Ease is quenched in PE
As I drink my passion
Math is inviting
Until vocabulary intercepts
Dividing digits from words
Suggests competence
English, an ultimate abstract
Articulating on paper
Siphons disappointment
Red exes… inflamed circles…
Muting my words as
Scarlet runs down my pages
Pigmentation of rejection

Halls of higher education
A distant future
A promise to cultivate
An accomplished mind
Validating myself
Disregarding the doors
Hindering my entry

© Julie Graham 2016

words from my last year of high school.
Ronjoy Brahma Nov 2015

मानसिया साननो रोँगौ
आरो बुजिनोबो रोँगौ मानसिया
जेब्लासिम मानसिया बुजि रोङा
बे समाव बियो थारैनो लाजिया
देलायनो सोलोँनाया मानसिनि मोनसे रोँनाय
देलायनो रोँनाय लोगो लोगो
मानसिनाव मोनसे गियान सोमजियो
अब्लानो बियो लाजियो
लाजिनायानो मानसिनि मोनसे समायनाय
समायनाया मानसिनि मोनसे रोँनाय
बे बाथ्राखौ गोथौयै बुंनो हायोदि
जेसेबां रोङो बिनि आखल आखु गासैबो समायखाङो
लाजिनाया माखासेमानि रोखोमनि जायो
मोनसे नंखायनि थाखाय
आरो मोनसे रोङैनि थाखाय
अदेबानि मानसिया नंगौ नङाखौ लानानैबो
मोनसे गिनाय फैयो
बेयावनो लाजिनायबो थायो
मानसिफोरा गावखौ फुरायै बिजिरनो सोलोङाखै
नंगौ नङा बेखौ थि खालामनो हायैयाव
गुबुननो फोरमायनांगौ जायोब्ला
मानसिनाव लाजिनाया फैयो
नैबे बाथ्राखौबो साननो होयोदि
लाजिनाया मानसिखौ समायना खालामो
आरो बेनो गाज्रिबो नुहोयो
अदेबानि बियो मानसिनो गासै
गुण गियान आरो जाम्बाथिनि सायावनो
सोनारनोबो हागौ नंगुबैआव।

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