Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Ormond 3d
Treasure in forest,
Water dropping crystal beads—
Dew on wild orchids
I'm sitting at my desk after a math test
And on my math test, I really tried my best,
But now, thank ***, I get to rest
And play with my colored pencils.

I feel like it's been so much time
since I've written in colored pencil rhyme,
But I find, it really is sublime
Writing in something other than monochrome grey.

As I sit and gaze at my pencil collection,
I am realizing that it has turned to obsession,
But there are twelve colored pencils for three stanza perfection,
So, for poetry's sake, I guess it's okay.
I actually did write this the first time in colored pencils after a math test.
Writing is my passion
You're my inspiration

My rock solid foundation
Whom I seek in times of tribulation

Pragmatic precepts did he essay
Not so difficult to follow, I would say

Though departed to a place far away
His memories keep me swing and sway

I yearn for your visitation
Desperately need some consolation
An avid reader, a writer of merit, a man of profound knowledge and moral soundness. I owe everything to my appa. The memory of walking alongside with him in the journey of life is unforgettable. The imprints he made on the sands of time are indelible.

"Blessed be the Lord thy ***, which delighted in thee..."
Nathalie Nov 4
There is sweetness in your soul

Secrets that are shared between

Your heart and mind

There is nothing you can say

Or do to separate you

From the love that has always

Been yours.

Shift from fear to love

And you will discover

That the Universe has a sublime plan

You will never grow cold from love.

It will always be there

To keep you safe and warm.

Thoughts like clouds,
storming my mind.
lightning and
heavy gushes of the words,
striking against the wall,
of my brain, like blind birds.

Here I stand,
no pen to write with,
no paper to write on.
Words will escape,
by penetrating in my soul.

My fear of losing my words,
stays by the side of my thoughts.
They can come at any time,
will shower like a rain in my mind,
or they can go at any time,
leaving me to think sublime.
Shadowhollow Sep 10
I want to touch you
Run and jump arms open wide

But I’m afraid if I do I’ll fall right through you
Your a fragment of my dreams reflected in a mirror

Your beauty incomprehensible
Dangerous , raw , your the sublime
Too beautiful to touch

So I float atop a dark mirror as your ominous  shadow is cast over my shattered reflection

Stretched out bare
For all to see

Something untouchable
aquis Sep 3
the sublime music
in his head
consumed him
and then made ‘him’

Thoughts after watching ‘Amadeus’ (1984)...

“I am one of those who will go on doing till all doings are at an end.” Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
zen Aug 30
This place is amazing
nothing like anything
Ha! This place is gorgeous!
This place is a palace of some sorts
A mothership,
This place is full of delight and adventure and rainbows
I wouldn't give it up for the world this
Honor, this Creed
clambering continually in calamitous Abyss
Who is it there behind the rainbow curtain,
calling upon my name?
It's important that you leave home
Gary Brocks Aug 27
No buttressed vaulted ceilings here,
or monkish men in robes of cloth,
a space where things are sold and bought
and yet, there is an atmosphere:

A cloistered hush outside of time,
etched in rows of words, wooden,
the self’s restrained demarcation
seeds this scene for the sublime.

“In the beginning was the word”,
nothing before that differentiation,
in the assemblage of imagination,
a whispered restless breath is heard, as

marks on paper command the motion
of eyes and thoughts across a texture
in which silence is a rapture,
the echo of yearning and union.

Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
Next page