Petulant in her bedrock,
Serene in the eyes of the crowd,
Alas! Oblivion but not.

all poetry is personal
some more than others

to just spread out your private feelings
     in your verse
may not be everyone's delight

but if you choose words
so that the many find their voices
    in your own
you may be lucky
to achieve all poets' dreams

your personal voice
becomes the public

This must be destiny

I hear echoes of warnings from my former self ricocheting in my head

This must be deserved for the plethora of ways I have hurt people

To mark me with pain I will remember and maybe be a better person

This must be fate
There was no other way out

I still hope things will improve but I think this suffering was intended and therefore my punishment must be served

My beloved was anger
So the sun went after
The big waves of the ocean

They said in anger
What a matter!
I will discover

Her smart was shiny
Her face looked sadly
Shame! The sin converted directly
To that spot of ready
That has red clearly
They wanted to send them in a hurry
The Arab is neglected completely
The danger was surrounded without lately

To keep your throne, sell that land widely
Its people is the worst at sight
Their sight which carries hope
And democracy also
Not killing, ruin or shot
the advanced land expressed

Liar, they will deal with them actually
As they make with red Indian
Taste their blood with cool
**** their woman almost all
And said they look like an animal

Palestinian ask God
As they have no justice at the land
The hate was planted
The terror born in fact
Defeat all occupy person

He stood beside her
Give his heart to her
She was her motherland
If your mother was rapped
You will lift up a white flag
Asking for love and mercy
Or you carry every weapon
Killing every worst one
The hate at one was growing
The fire was increasing
The one who seems stupid
Or wise wanted to get problem dissolved
The occupied has terror fact

i got a friend
on hello poetry

i like her poetry
she a good person:

interested
light-hearted
and a fighter

keep it up girl
and stay a writer


by the way: tizzop says hello!

You were honey. I’ll say it unashamed—you were honey.

Not in spite of the acid,
but because of it.

He is a drop of morning dew
Blended with sunlight streaks
He is a wind gushing through
And I found my inner peace.

1/22/2020

A blank page. Is beautiful,
Like an empty cardboard box.
A blank page is pitiful,
Like a bike without shocks.
A blank page is powerful,
Like he who controls the clocks.

Words. Are dangerous,
Like a career in bomb diffusion.
Words are ponderous,
Like time spent in seclusion.
Words are useless,
Like having skills in indecision.

Expressions. Are misguiding,
Like incorrect road signs.
Expressions are inviting,
Like getting off the sidelines.
Expressions are exposing,
Like craters left by mines.

Fears. Will debilitate,
Like brakes locked on an icy road.
Fears will dictate,
Like poor learning of law code.
Fears will fabricate,
Like a hasty corduroy road.

How can the potential of a chart,
The potency of what we hear,
The mystery of an open heart,
Not keep one from outrunning Fear?
You just don’t know where to start.
Oh, when will everything become clear?

Pain. Is difficult,
Like a test of endurance.
Pain is heartfelt,
Like an understanding glance.
Pain is insult,
Like taunts in arrogance.

Doubt. Is dividing,
Like a denominator.
Doubt is saving,
Like a backup generator.
Doubt is disregarding,
Like a prideful visitor.

Acceptance. Is costly,
Like a gambling addiction.
Acceptance is ghostly,
Like it’s writing fiction.
Acceptance is necessary,
Like a correct prediction.

Love. Will change your ways,
Like moving across the planet.
Love will catch your gaze,
Like seeing a leaky faucet.
Love will not cease to amaze,
Like that: nothing but net.

How can feeling sufferance,
The weakness of doubt,
And the need for acceptance,
Continue to keep Love locked out?
Oh, how low will I cling to reluctance?
I just don’t know where to start.