Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
have you ever grappled with despair
not in imagery, symbolism or portrayal.

I mean, have you ever felt the elevator drop
the watery weakness that extenuates breath
a depth of fatigue that makes lying on the floor a burden
an aching pounding in your chest,
the broken-glass dryness in your throat
the gritty ache in your eyes
that makes you want to close them forever?

Struggle no more, leaden limbs,
free the weary weight.
Eyes that struggle, release the light.
The body begs to no more fight.
In a blur of sluggish thought,
I whisper sleep's sweet name.
The will has dropped.
The yearning stopped.
I’ll rest on that distant shore.
Songs for this:
Nessun Dorma by Sarah Brightman
Caruso (Live at "Pavarotti International" Charity Gala Concert, Modena 1992) by Luciano Pavarotti, Aldo Sisilli
Pie Jesu by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Sarah Brightman & Paul Miles-Kingston
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: Extenuate: lessen the strength of something
Zelda 5d
I've got my rose-colored glasses on  
And skies in my eyes.  
I've got stumbling thoughts in my head  
And a few choice words (for you),  
Trapped in the back of my throat, (just for you).

I've been sitting at the piano,  
Staring out the window,  
how strange it is... that;  
Well, blue is associated with sadness  
When the sky is so beautiful,  
Like you  
When you're laughing  
Because of  

We never really say "good morning", do we?  
It's only ever 🫂 (a blue hug)
We never really say "how do you feel, today?"  
It's only ever "I need coffee."

I'm trying to find the expressions,  
But the keys keep playing the wrong notes.  
It ain't right

Blue skies
Aren't empty
They hold
Clouds, resembling objects,
Always drifting, changing
Making me feel
I'm always free-falling
What if it falls apart mid-flight?  
Will we survive?

The sky has never been so blue
My vision has never been so blue
I don't think I was made for blue skies

I'm not an Obrina Olivewing butterfly.  
My blue isn't true;  
It's just the way I see light right now,  
A false perception
A state of mind

but I...  

I've got my rose-colored glasses on  
for you
just for you
My one and only

Zelda Jul 15
Never have I ever seen you cry.

"Truly a sweet soul,
Such a sad soul."

Never have I ever heard your voice,
Soft, Strained, Shattered.

"...because you're suffering.
...I'm also sad...
Doesn't mean we're bad for it,
It's just a state of mind."

Hopeful or desperate?
I can't decide.

"Maybe one day,
we'll dig ourselves out of this hole."

What if this hole is the end?
We could illuminate the skies above

it's sad, so sad

"I've never known you like this.
You gotta find peace of mind."

Such a sad soul,
Truly a sweet soul.

I don't know if it's the right title
I may edit later
anotherdream Jul 1
In the middle of my ignorance
I believed our love would stay
Though you had nothing to lose
If you disappeared and ran away

And that's exactly what you did
When you realized I was afraid
I had nearly forgot the loneliness
That was keeping me awake

You understood I was alone
And I welcomed you to stay
So you could tell me all the reasons
Why you wanted it this way

But once you slammed the door
And couldn't stand me anymore
I fell into deep depression
With my eyes fixed on the floor

Solemn regret swept over me
Cause I can see you were ignored
I was fighting inner demons
While our relationship was torn

So in the end I am to blame
I should have met you in the rain
Before you walked into the storm
Before your hands had closed the door
Zelda May 18
I walk through hallways
White lights, Marble floors,
And portraits on the walls
Of girls covered in moths
The contrast to their eyes
Resting on their lips like morning dew
Drawing up tears, as if nectar

I think through hallways
Many have stated that
A moth is drawn to a flame
But I recently learned
A moth is drawn to celestial lights
And though a flame can mimic celestial lights
It is not a celestial body

All the girls are celestial bodies
And all celestial bodies are covered in moths
Carlo C Gomez May 13
A scribbled note passed
from one insider to the next.

The day she runs out of people
she'll conference with birds,
fall asleep a child
and wake up a woman,
broadcasting from home
on the night in question.

A hundred years from today,
she'll hold on to dead flowers
from the fairground encounter.

She will avoid the bridge,
circle instead around
the walls of Jericho.

She'll write upon the wall
like it was her heart.

I’m a sucka for long eyelashes,
wishful sighs punctuating long
skyward gazes, endlessly searching
for answers to questions as of yet,
thus is my manly melancholy primary
or rather,
my hurry up need fix for tender loving
by a man who writes me poems that are  this fem’s,
as in feminine, as in all mine, even down
to the unwrit, declarative dedication that, is powerful
whispered, avec a-graze~touch
upon my cheek,
“I wrote this for you,”

oh gawd, I even love him despite
his horrible pink sneakers…
ugly to almost ning cute…

May 2024
HP Poet: Melancholy of Innocence
Age: 59
Country: India

Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Melan. Please tell us about your background?

Melancholy of Innocence: "My name is Raj / Melan (as on HP). I am an Architect and Urban Planner with a MBA. I unsuccessfully pursued Doctorate (twice), but due to circumstances - could not complete it. I have worked with several International Non-Profit Development Organizations and Projects. While living in Amsterdam (Holland) for 4 years I was International Development Manager in-charge of ten-countries of the world – Oceania (Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea), South-East Asia (Indonesia, Thailand, Philippines), Spain, Russia, Belgium, United Kingdom and Chile. And for separate projects I have lived for more than 6 months in Bangkok (Thailand) and Accra (Ghana). I have travelled to more than 40+ countries."

Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Melancholy of Innocence: "The first vivid memory of mine that I can call as a poem was when I was 8 years old. I had gone to my Mom’s office picnic tour for 2-days and there I had met someone of similar age of opposite gender. On coming back, whose name I wrote “three” times (one below the other in 3 different fonts) on the last page of my school notebook. I consider that as my first LOVE-poem. My first form of “identifiable” poetry was at the age of 13 years. It was about doing “morning household chores” and helping my Mom so that she can reach her office on time. After a very long break, it was only when my BELOVED inspired me to become member of Hello Poetry, I did so in 2016 and started writing serious poetry. I have 23 books (fiction, non-fiction, poetry) self-published on Amazon."

Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Melancholy of Innocence: "LOVE surely inspires me. Being in LOVE makes me feel - live and breathe in PEACE. Poetry happens to me when without knowledge amidst mundane incidences of life – like, while taking bath or wearing clothes, standing in front of a mirror, reading some story/poem/article/lyrics, watching an interviews/movies/songs, listening to music OR just by observing the way people behave, express themselves, their ****** expressions, their mannerisms, smiles/sorrows/laughter/giggles; the way they walk, turn and look around them, stand, sit that always reminds me of my BELOVED. I also always make it a point to peep out from my home balcony / window seeking a glimpse of sunrise/sunset, moon/stars, birds, clouds, feeling breeze on our skin, blooming flowers, bees, insects etc. and many more things…! Basically, I think I get inspired by something that touches me deep inside and reminds me of my BELOVED. I immediately experience the realization of “I being in deep true pure eternal LOVE” in our heart and soul. That’s how poetry happens to me."

Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Melancholy of Innocence: "Poetry is a true expression of how exactly I feel inside me at that very particular moment of time and I try to be as honest as possible in expressing it with words that communicates my true and pure feelings of LOVE to my BELOVED."

Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Melancholy of Innocence: "Rumi, Omar Khayyam, Ghalib, Tagore, Neruda, Pushkin, Kabeer, Jayadeva, all enlightened Sufi fakeers and many more contemporary lyricists."

Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Melancholy of Innocence: "I like to read. Now a days I read in digital format anything that catches my interest ) text books, non-fictions, literary-award-winning books, biographies. etc. I like to draw, paint, sketch, do photography, do exercise, play sports, watch movies, serials etc. I even have written full-feature movie-scripts. I try to download and listen to all songs of music my BELOVED likes and sometimes recommends me. I like to do simple household chores (sweep/swab the house, clean the toilets etc.), do mundane shopping errands, cleaning and arranging things around me, I love to sit and observe things – “Nature”; and especially common everyday people and wonder about their childhood years and their life’s journey. I like to introspect a lot and question my own thoughts – making sure I do not get convinced and/or imprisoned by anything (beliefs, rituals, superstitions, views, thoughts, religion, philosophy, “..isms” and “so-called” TRUTHS) that I may have come across - seen, read or heard. I am very uncomfortable and vary of building identities of I, me, my, mine, myself…"

Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for allowing us this opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet, Melan! We are honored to include you in this ongoing series!”

Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Melan a little bit better. I surely did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #16 in June!

Bowedbranches Apr 24
I guess I should thank you
For the solitude
I definitely do
Deserve some me time
Next page