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.
Your my want
My need
Why I breed

Can I feed
I smell you from afar
The natural kindling you are

Come to the sky for me
From up here we can have a view
Lovers below me then you

Naked skies surprise
Another word of the wise
When I find love we will not die

No one can ever take my love
As we catch a glimpse the sky above
Our love like a woven fabric

Together we blanket the naked sky
Our love can make us fly
Forever running from the question why

Naturally we begin to dance
Sending both of us in a trance
syncopation Jun 24
My little guy is the best little guy
And I’ll tell you why

He gets things beyond his years
You wonder if he has an extra set of ears

Because he hears things I don’t even catch
And he can relay them to you
Yet he’s far from even being two

How does he do this you may ask
Without really language, it’s quite a task

But does it he does in subtle ways
A light hand gesture, a simple gaze
He uses words, one or two
If you’re still lost he’ll try to
Help you along the best ways he knows how
He can utter thoughts without having to say them all aloud

A few times we have tried to attest whether we
Are reading too far in, and whether it’s just me
Trying to decipher what cannot be
Whether everything is happening coincidentally

What we have found is that it is not
His conveyance is one with purpose with thought

I’ll give you an example when he was one and a half
He watched a movie about a dinosaur and a boy you’ll have quite a laugh

As did he,
Until it got to the point where the dinosaur brought the boy back to his family
The dinosaur couldn’t go with
Yet he urged the boy to
Nudged him close and drew a circle around who was who
The boy understood it was time to say goodbye
As did my boy as there were tears in his eyes
Which streamed down his face as he watched and he felt
And his daddy and I were so floored we knelt
Beside him not wanting to deter
The young paltable feelings that stirred
Deep within his young body and mind
A soul that seemed too ripe with time
Time that had not even elapsed
Somehow from somefar away transcended past

Love him love him love him I do
How does he know all this while not even two
( Tanka for my father )

honest man of grit

no nonsense but so caring

shared your life with me

rescued me from orphan's plight

showed me what it means to love


rob kistner © 2018
I read "Fellow Passenger" this morning, a wonderful poem from Pradip Chattopadhyay. It put a lump in my throat and stirred warm memories of Bob, the man who adopted me and made me his grateful, though frequently headstrong son.
It has been 35 years since my father passed, but he is frequently on my mind, and often in conversations I have with my son. Dad was a nose-to-the-grindstone, hard working man, who never graduated high school. But he was brilliant in the knowledge of how to live and love life, and the need to unselfishly share what one has. A man of great integrity, he taught me how to be a man, and the meaning of decency and dignity. I miss him greatly. He was my salvation and my hero.

Pradip's piece sparked this tanka, a love note to my father.
Willow Sep 26
A Once stranger told me
The story of how she got here
The moment she realized she knew
This is where she was meant to be.

A meaningful memory passed on from us
One she had known all her life.
While wandering in the woods one day
A regular routine
Became an amazing awakening.

She stood in a new weathered barnyard
Fulfilled with effortless emotion
The air became the adhesive
Between the energy and her soul.

Two feet on the dirt
Two hands lifted to the trees
Two eyes opened wider than ever
One heart
Ready to heal.
emanation wise
of trees
whose catchment
grieves silkworm
in its leaves
that ties are natural bounds
to flutters in the wing
and sputters wind in hurricane
their minute features spin
a lasso of fear
a topple
Hunter Green Sep 4
Have all the instigations of my heart issues
dawned insinuations of my used tissues,
Or am I the one to blame?
Can I trust a mind that never stays the same?
How are there no answers,
in the windows of your eyes?
Why aren’t my instincts strong enough to overcome these lies
I make up in my mind,
the ones that bring peace,
but only for a time in between my insanity?
For the very next moment I’m wise enough, I wish I was always wise enough, to come back to reality.
Janhavi K Aug 14
We're a bunch of heartbroken lovers,
eager to stitch back together
the strands of our reality.
Always hesitant to take the first step,
we simply trust anyone who takes the step for us,
because we are broken enough to be wiser,
but not wise enough to stop trying.
She is like fire,
She burns everything on her way.
Without any hesitation or delay.

She is like fire,
A free-spirit who knows no bound.
Her feet just won't stay on the ground.

She is like fire,
You can see it in her eyes.
She can be both childish and wise.

She is like fire,
Her desire is to touch the sky.
All she wants is to fly.

She is like fire,
She travels to soothe her soul.
While, I admire her from afar and grow old.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
It is about someone I know. I have left the ending vague and abrupt, intentionally. Happy reading!
Stories browsed by the bedside of budding of children
Told of all the adventure that awaited us
So I ran amok with my compatriots
Every one of us wreathed in youth
Burning with the boundless fuel
Of curiosity
From the streets spilled opportunities
Of Fame, Of Wealth, Of Love
Then eventually the Sun rays Bent
Before bleeding upon the stone
So that we traversed on bricks of yellow
Until sore legs led us
To an enchanted emerald mirror
And as we stared we began to wheeze
Seeing a frail old wizard or witch
Wondering “why” with a whimper
As curtains cradling clocks, crash upon us
An Ode to Oz an Ode to Youth
Next page