When she opened her mouth,
every color came out.
I was -*colorblind

know you see me

semper dreamy

slip-ping on - and - off

in the spacey place

almost convinced , (was it?)

“empire free me ,

soldiers see me   ,

envious armies are after me

because broken me is all they see

i patch my self invisibly --”

so in retreat i lay my self,

an icon to vanity and decay-

soon enough i know the soldiers may

hunt, may find, may trap, may bind

never right - NEVER WRITE ,

always blind

inside my rotten mind ,

(oh it was) it was not -

naught but tongue twists and brain rot

easy enough to force, forget

the pleasantness of title : Pet -

was it, will it, could I  build it ?

it never will -

it never was -

a different thought ,

for beggars sought

to free them from their cups and coins -

to seek release from their ***** -

along the railroad tracks out back

we find the air is acrid, black

and children polish stones for sale

for some enormous, bloated whale

that cracks the whip but bears a treat --

I have Orders I must meet .

Margo Roth Speigelman
Is the girl
I always wished I could be.

In reality,
I'm more
Like Hazel Grace Lancaster
Minus the cancer.

In the end,
I only want
To get out of this paper town
Come to terms with the fault in our stars
And the fact that I'll never find Alaska.

An open letter to teachers
I love learning
You make think that’s odd considering the blank look I have on my face every lesson
But it’s true
However when you put me in a room of thirty other kids I don’t get along with
Or don’t like learning too
It kinda kills the mood
Whilst learning definitions is important and I understand
You’ll forgive me for looking out of the window for a few minutes before tuning back in
You’re just as bored as me I know
But of course you’ll never let it show
After all
Your class is the most important of them all
Thirty minutes of homework a night at least
I study 6 other subjects
Each of them requiring at least thirty minutes too
That’s three and a half hours of work a night
Plus eight hours of school
That’s a twelve hour work day
So you’ll forgive me for yawning in your class
Afterall I stayed up til 12am the night before doing the work you set me
No of course not
How dare I yawn in your lesson?
That’s right it is incredibly rude
It is my fault I stayed up so late the night before
Doing work that you set me
How dare I?
I apologise

I love learning
But I don’t like sitting in a room of 150 other kids doing an exam
Spending three nights before fitting into my head all that I could cram
So I could have you stand over me and watch me as I write
Or the giant dreaded clock counting down from 100 to 0
Each minute going faster as I struggle to calculate how many times 0 goes into 100
Asking a question that can’t be answered
“You won’t be able to ask questions in real life”
That’s odd because my work place embraces asking questions
On the bottom of every sheet saying ‘ask the manager if you don’t know how to do these jobs’
But that’s not the real world
Part time work is not the real world
Flipping burgers at Maccas is not the real world
But it seems pretty real to me

I love learning
When I was 8 loved to do maths
Triangles and squares and circles it all came naturally
Then you started implying that maths was a boy’s area
That only boys do well and boys can succeed
I lost that love
Took a left turn at maths and English lane
Whether that was the best or worst choice I’ve ever made I’m here now
A poet who can count to 100 in threes languages but can’t make sense of the letter x
What’s it doing there?
Isn’t maths just numbers?
Are English and maths crossing over?
No
X and represents everything and 1 all at once
Just like how the conch symbolises law and order?
No
It’s just a number
A number that needs to be worked out
Ten lines at least to work out x
A million different solutions and trial and error will not be one
It’s the cheat’s way out
The girl’s way out

I love learning
My maths teacher taught me to love maths again
My English teacher taught me English was not just a constellation
My drama teacher taught me drama is so much more than the stage
But maybe this is all too late
Because when I’ve spent my life waiting to fall in love with maths again
My love for maths was lost
My love for learning was lost
My drive is lost
I love learning
But not as much as I used to

I write with honesty and drape it with emotion.

I wash my words with tears and dry them in anger.

I never read my words out loud, my tongue has no taste for them.

I don't notice anyone sees my writes as I notice nobody feels them.

I tap my words on to a screen as I watch my tv.

I write my words just with me and expect nobody.

Words scrape raw into my mind, on to the screen.

They reap my pain in the most simplest way.

It's not very beautiful, not like my hello poetry friends, but it's just like me no time for etiquette.

The words stumble from my mind, much like someone who has lost thier way.

And my heart reads into every line, even when I say I bare none.

Be it rushed, sloppy and brazen...

My words always always find their way onto my hello poetry page.

I get lost in all of my fellow writers, writes.

But it's no surprise, because that's how it is in my everyday life.

I'm lost and I'm found, alot down and almost never sound.

I write how I live.

I write only what I live...

My echoes are all I have to give to my hello poetry friends.

Red Flame

Once again
Beauty
Reflected
In the Context of the World
How many times?
Can Love say No to Itself
From the Perception
Of Difference?

Writers Ink,  
Unspilled

When a Flag comes out
Is there no longer One?

Are the Words Spoken
In Another's Language
Really  the Threat
Of an impoverished Life?
Or the Words of another
Persons Faith
....heretic?

These ears
of Listening
Are the Walk
Of Life..

There is
No Team
No Coin
No Fear

Just the
Opportunity
For Choice
To Love, and Listen

A Rainbow
Of Entry
Into a Room
Without Light

Love's Miracle
Unbroken
Sight

I love you,
I love you, from the bottom of my heart,

I'll whisper that,
In your ears,
When we're no longer apart.
(I bet it gives you chills)

You did the same to me,
All those nights really late,
I'd ride my bike to you,
And I'd hop over those gates,
Then in through the window,
Where you would be awake,
(a few times you weren't)

That mile and a half,
Riding in the dark,
Sometimes it was foggy,
But there were always sparks,

I've tried living without you,
It's been nothin but a mess,
If I have to live without you,
I'll be miserable at best.

So I say again my beautiful girl
I love you
I love you, from the bottom of my heart.

For me to dine with you
We'd have water not wine
Paper towels as napkins
But you only get one sheet
And this old pizza box for a plate

The food will be cold
And I can't give you dessert
Though I do have some pretzels
And chocolate syrup

All of this is not because it's what you deserve
It's just all I have to offer
But unlike other places
I'm open twenty-four seven

I had to close the door.
Because you were-
We were
Becoming strangers
Getting to know
Each other.
I had to close the door
Because I need to
Have faith
He will open another.