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Decra Kerubo May 2019
Tell me,
How does it feel to write?
How does it feel to twist phrases,
How do poets feel?
How do writers hold their pens,
And I will know how to Hello a poetry.

I am not Harry Potter,
I wasn't born holding a pen,
I wasn't bought for pens till three
I am told, Harry wasn't born with a pen either
I know, he writes so perfectly
And now I know, I can hello my poetry

My fingers are too feeble to write
My focus  isn't in rhyming my scheme
My prowess is above the rule of poetry
My wonder is, why my pen makes such patterns.
My prayer, tell me how I hold my pen
And you will hello my poetry.
This poem is based on the organization title,
"Hello Poetry" and creativity in style where the pen is being held differently with regard to the holder. Then, other poets, recomend and the persona recomends theirs too.
Cat Lynn Aug 2018
You are always there... Even when I don't want you to be

Walking either right next to me... or behind me

You know when I'm alone... and need a loving embrace

You knock on my door... demand that I open it... so I can look into your baby face

I have tried rejected the love that you offer, I have tried ignored your company

But you always found a way to make me accept and deal with it...and all so suddenly

When I am in tears or in the midst of run and sit beside me

A partner... A friend that sticks closer then a brother... I know you will never abandon or leave..

Your eyes speak words that I know you could never speak..

and you stare at me so heavily, especially when you see me walk away and leave...

Are you bothered that you can't come along?

I can't help but want to turn around.. since this feeling of separation feels so wrong

I have corrected, forgiven, and rebuked you several times... I'd thought you hate me for those times...

But you only grow closer... and become all the more attached to me... which is more then fine

When I sit alone, and try to ignore the atmosphere I live in

You come walking up to me, sometimes bearing gifts or something to share, making me give in

But you always make sure your emotions are clear and made known

I know most of what you go through... I see you so much... how can it be ignored or thrown?

Feeling so locked up and caged? Several stair cases under?

Sometimes you come to me for guidance and comfort.. but I don't know the mind of a boy... but I do wonder...

I'm still here... I miss you so much sometimes whenever  I'm away

But I have that glorious image... of you running to me with such a big happy smile. Don't delay!!

Greet me with a kiss on the cheek, or sometimes on the hand

Your such a little fella... but you think of your self to be a proud man

But oh... the boy I love... the boy DOG I love...

The best friend that I need and don't came from above

You mean so much to me... I love you my slobbery, fluffy, Pomeranian MUNCHKIN!!!!!!!

What?... Did you think I was talking about a real boy?
...Soooooo... How many of you did I fool? XD HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously XD I want to know how many of you I fooled into think I was talking about an actually boy lol

Don't get me, wrong, it would be a great poem for a lover but i wrote it for my close companion... Munchkin, a Blessing from the Lord

Dog's always have that tendency to leave a paw print on your heart don't they? ;)
Mach my words, that time travel aye
foresee (rather than being
     at a stand still, nee frozen
     analogous to cry

oh ja hen nicks, or more particularly
     going backwards)
     this chap doth espy
great breakthroughs,

     asper similar advances this guy
   i.e. myself witnesses quantum leaps I
learn (reading The University Of Penn Gazette)
     the Burmese doctoral
     engineering student Kai
     Sir Von Wilhelm Harris

     made profound advances within
     advanced combined research
     laboratory of rocket surgery
     and brain science set my
mouth ajar
     (with rivulets of drool spilling forth)

constructing a simple
     to assemble gizmo (avail able
common household materials
     rendered unto YouTube), and/or Cable

Comcast, Fios, Infosys, et cetera
     which accidental discovery
     automatically codified feign
     top secret "FAKE" news to enable
boot (simply for formality sake)
     code named Clark Gable
yet in reality (a faux veil of secrecy)
     to con Vince sing lee

     foster an inimitable
mystique, button truth
     for general public to unzip noble
     no red bull) knowable

handy escape to past or future
     and essentially unlocked laudable
simple "household solution"
     to become the latest craze

     (synonymous with an ****** - manageable
minus addiction, conviction,
     and excruciation viz zit operable
via needle marks of the masses

     within a fortnight necessary
     supplies sans quantifiable
while Das Donald Trump
     could enact legislation satisfiable

knowing majority being
     totally tubularly oblivious unalterable
measures permanently infringing on inalienable
     rights such as life, liberty
     and the pursuit of winnable pacification.
Cat Lynn Nov 2017
There he is, my little baby boy, his fluffy ginger fur spiked out in all directions.

His eyes, like coco powder surrounding a drop of pure vanilla. They are so big and heart catching I have to mention.

His spiraled tail laid over his back and spread out like a fire work. Curly and a sandy color, it stands out against his Gingerbread coat.

His tiny, dainty, quick moving paws always in a scurry as he races to his little window, barking in a  high pitch squeal, his spirit always in a float.

His fur flows in a fluffy rustle when he stands outside to strut his pride, his little mocha mountain peaks alert and doesn't miss a single action.

He walks like the world revolves around him, he runs for nothing but his own fancy desires, He flaunts his cute looks, with the sway of his tail and barks at other dogs just to get a good reaction.

His white furred lips speak of whimpers and pleads to me whenever I'm down,  He lays over my arms when I type, sick of not being the center of attention.

He allows his two back legs to fly behind him when he kicks in demand. He bangs his two front paws to the ground when he's frustration for not getting his way. There's too much tension.

I can't help but to laugh at the pathetic adorable soul! Thinking he can live his spoiled "perfect" worry-free life forever.

But even the greatest break, people wear a mask, and so do dogs! He pretends he doesn't need any body. He think's he's so clever!

Behind that perfectly circular face of fluff and eye seeking attention, is a heart of fear... There is no drop of bravery within him...

As his mother, as his human, as his owner I feel his fear, for we both fear the same thing... The higher authority, our changes to them are dim...

When he is around them, his tail hangs low to hide it's spark, his shiny wondering eyes look down in shame of his small size and courage.

His mountain peeks collide in an avalanche. They lay back and hide their mighty heights. His hopefulness for joy could not flourish...

His eyes water up like a river from a down pour... have you ever seen tears pour from a dogs eyes at a constant rate? I have...

His pride as an Alpha was only an act, his true identity is all omega, his mind and heart have been split into halves...

He's high pitch but low noted howl does not ring when he is in the state of depression as omega. He instead taps his two little light paws against my chair as I sit...

I look down and sadly sometimes I ignore him. My mind already in a struggle. But the little one is wise as well. He'll kick his back legs and howl to catch my attention and throw a fit!

He knows I need his little fluffy sweet comfort, and he needs my warm embrace and my soft lap.

The only time he always look so content and happy is when I hold the little dear and he purposely falls backwards so I may hold him like a baby, an opportunity I have to grab

He has a big smile on his soft furry face, his eyes pleasantly closing, his body pliable and limb.

You would think he was fake by the peaceful contentment on his face, his little black paws up in the air, so many adore him

Only because of his physical appearance, not because of the longing to change sweet hearted Pomeranian from within

When I set him down, the peace instantly breaks, his happiness is shattered, his nose sniffing up at me in disbelief, he needs thicker skin.

Munchkin... you had two owners before us, the first one threw you out of the car in front of a pet store...

The other locked you up in your cage for too many helpless countless hours... you remember this for sure.

The Lord is merciful... for we have came to the rescue, your soul is now being built back up... we promise we won't abandon you. I won't abandon you...

If only you knew how the Lord has used you in my life... The blessing you have been. This owner ship refuses to move.

You are my sweet Pomeranian Munchkin... and I am your owner
Have No Fear Little Fluff.. Have No Fear  

*I love you <3
Thank you Lord for using Munchkin to teach me to control my anger, to train me for the future, for being such a loving comfort, for the bond me and my little boy share, and for using him to open my eyes more to your mercy's and abundant grace.  I know I don't deserve anything  at all. Praise You Lord.

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