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deadhead Apr 29
I don't consider
light and dark
to be opposites.
They're just the same;
they couldn't exist
without the other.
The light needs the
dark in order to shine,
and the dark needs
the light in order to exist.
jasmine wild Apr 21
and suddenly i can see them, colours
like i've been so oblivious to their existence before.
i notice the yellow rim around my towels
and the redness of my lips,
the shampoo bottle is actually blue
and my scrunchies reflect deep purple.
like my eyes and my soul have become desensitised to the beauty surrounding my life.
A life full of colour.
I don't want to merely exist anymore,
I am happy to be alive.
Luna de miel
Y voz tan dulce
Cuando te extraño
Tu memoria calma mi alma
De tanto dolor

Tus ojos tan bellos
Cómo el sol
Radiante sobre la arena en el desierto
Y cuando te miraba
Mi ojos eran rojos de tanto amor

Oh morena que hicisteis
Oh morena que me hicisteis
Estoy enamorado de alguien que no existe

Por ti me invento millones de serenatas
Cada mes
Expresando mi pena
Por no poder mirarte otra vez

Y cuando la luna llena se levanta
Tendrás mi corazón
Y yo me quedaré sin nada más
Que tu memoria y sin tu amor

Translation:
Honeymoon
And voice so sweet
When i miss you
Your memory calms my soul
From so much pain

Your eyes so beautiful
They’re like the sun
Radiant on the sand in the desert
And when I looked at you
My eyes were red from so much love

Oh brunette what did you do
Oh brunette, what did you do to me?
I'm in love with someone who doesn't exist

For you I invent millions of serenades
Each month
Expressing my sorrow
For not being able to look at you again

And when the full moon rises
You will have my heart
And I'll be left with nothing else
Than your memory and without your love
maritza Jan 28
the odds of us being alive are basically zero
so us existing at the same time is pretty extraordinary to me
J Dec 2020
sometimes
though I suppose I should say often
taking into consideration that
I cannot go a single day without
feeling this way
but once again that won't accurately describe
because this issue that I'm having
is not feeling anything
so let's say
experiencing this.
I cannot go a day without
knowing this exists
which is funny really because
I'm not really sure i exist
Which sounds funny
or maybe absurd
but I get to this awful point at night
when I'm alone, see, I think being alone is the trigger
where my vision is blurry
and clear
and I rock yet I don't move
am I typing?
or am I watching someone else type
or am I imagining someone else type
thinking
hoping
wishing
I too were alive
what
where
who
am I?
I'll listen to songs on repeat
I'll sway and
tune in and out
of the mood to sob
or to dance and scream
or to freeze, and be nothing
except whatever I am
or am not.
the air
grips my arms
or whoever owns these arms
and goosebumps are left in the ghost's wake
ROXANNE
you don't have to put on the red light
ROXANNE
you don't have to put on the red light
ROXANNE!
YOU DONT HAVE TO PUT ON THE RED LIGHT
ROXANNE!!
you
Don't
have
to
put
on
the
red­
light
ROXANNE
Ro
this is the song that I've been listening to for the past
well who even knows
I want to say hours
but the concept of time leaps around me carelessly.
I like the music, I like the sound of his voice
I like how it brings back childhood memories of singing it in my mother's car
though I only knew how to sing "Roxanne"
and honestly as long as I said it every other word
I was doing pretty good.
and
yeah
maybe it has something to do with me
something deep about who I was
and who I am now
comparing the differences
talking about what I'm mean to be, who knows.
it just
feels right
to listen to right now.
I'll get tired of it eventually.
i don't have the mindset to really be able to
explain why I love this so much.
I used to want something unique for my children
or at least something uniquely spelled
I wanted their future teachers to look at their names and say
"what the **** is this."
maybe it would single them out
but they'd be something entirely new, wouldn't they?
one of my best friends is having a baby girl
my friend and her husband are naming her Honor.
I used to want to name my girl
Hasel
like Hazel, but with an "S"
But I'm sure I'll use that name for ferrets
Haesel and Baesel
now I'm thinking I like the letter "R"
my biological dad won't like it
we all have to start with the letter J for him
maybe they'll have my last name
maybe that will be enough for him
so now I'm thinking
I want to name two of my children
Roxanne
Rhiannon
but I'll change the spelling
it just feels real pretty right now.
or maybe Jolene.
Sydney likes
Nala and Lydia
Nala Roxanne Collins for Sydney's last name(or Scott for mine)
Lydia Rhiannon Collins(or Scott)
or something along those lines.
those sound real pretty actually.
Am I typing still?
who am I?
i wish I could just go a day
without wanting to **** myself or
god
I'm so tired of feeling sad.
I'm thinking that this is sad
or numb
or somewhere in the middle.
I'm just
in and out right now
i think this hurts.
but I'm trying.
I didnt know
How deep I was
Until you found
A piece of me
So lost
Even I didnt know
It existed
Ken Pepiton Nov 2020
A radical thought rose to greet me. At the root of this adventure,
there was a dare to defy the unknown holders of keys to gates
and vaults and amphora, sealed to preserve the power of
knowing truth that makes free, by the very knowing.
The secret meanings exposed as conspiracy. Aha.
Readers know of things working together,
line upon line, next after last,
precepts are not commands, but ladder rungs.
Grip first precepts, take hold, know that we do know.
Each of us obeyed... the messenger from truth said read,
that there is ought to read goes unsaid,
be not deceived, that we have received,
accept... thank you... from one alienated mind to another.
This is the most-read piece I have on HP- from August of 2018,
- something changed in the world I share, I dove in to the depths
of the ocean of opinions, and found i could breathe.
----
A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.2 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohs,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>
----

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
* Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?
That the past two years of public postings have been sorted by popularity, I think, exposes a mental cohesiveness of writer and reader to streams thought. I am a long form meandering storyteller. The story I find in the chance sorting of all I have exposed on HP, is strengthening to me, and I hope to any reader. Not knowing everything about anything is no excuse for not sharing what you do know. Whether life is hard or fair, machts nichts, making each day give account seems to cause things to work together for good.
Mrs Anybody Oct 2020
I miss something
that doesn’t
even exist
also check out my other poems!  :)
Bhill Oct 2020
jack and the bat went on a hike
they walked and walked till the nuisance spiked
it’s seemed kinda strange to see a bat walking
it doesn't really matter, as they both were just talking
what in the world could they be talking about
I'm sure it doesn't matter, at least I have doubt
as long as they talk, and talk while they walk
and don't cause trouble as everyone else squawks
there is too much squawking, in the steps of today's life
we are all very different, so put away that old knife
jack and the bat exist only in my mind
if you see something here we must be aligned....

Brian Hill- 2020 # 276
KNS Sep 2020
I am not tethered
Not yet
Not ever
I exist exclusively outside your gaze
I belong to myself now
You will not keep me here,
In fear and in folly
And I, I will not stay
Though I am weary of what awaits me
No!
Let me rise, now
The strength of my atonement and courage
Will protect me
As I wonder into a page without your expectations of failure.
Yes!
I choose to be free.
I have chosen sobriety for nearly six weeks. This is an ode to myself and everything I am becoming.
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