Enigma 1h
The feels that rise within my mind
sometimes I keep them packed inside.
but now I sit and here I write
to vent them free, in this twilight.
Some call me rude and some say shy.
Yes, that's the truth, I hereby lie.
I am no hermit, don't be mistaken
for I am uncouth and slightly shaken.
The profused silence, it is divine
like dots to connect, in bedlam of mine.
Only in tranquility and peace of mind
is when I fathom world's great design.
The more I speak, the less I know
The less I speak, oh, there you go.
I am no different, just as different
as floating lava, amidst the snow.
These words, these thoughts.
They freeze, they burn.
It's like a grand storm
trapped inside an urn.
This quietude is my escape from life
this serene silence I have devised.
This solitude exposed me to the placid side,
that never had I known, until my demise.
But now I sit and here I write,
to vent these words under this moon.
I often lose myself in this
and seldom find myself here too.
Be free to share your thoughts if you have ever felt anything similar.
dina 9h
just when i thought
that i'd have a day
when i could just sit
where i am and stay

stay placid and cool
without a single worry
but now i am caught up
with words in a hurry

they pour out of me
like bees from a hive
only to land and get hurt
and not stay alive

for i can write
only so fast
the rate these words are going
only few can last

they're words about everything
from last week and last year
they have so much to tell
to those who can hear

but i am tired of this
and choose not to aid
these words who want to get out
i choose to stop this parade

maybe another time
i will allow them to dance
but of course when i sit down
nothing will advance!
speaks for itself! creativity comes when i least need it!! who else can find this to be true?
Rowan 18h
Future fear is such a foe
It clutches your hopes
It rips your confidence
Scratches your smile
With a weird harsh noise
The same way a pencil
Would scratch a chalkboard

It closes the curtains of your eyes
Opens a window of doubts
There is where it stands
It Shoots rocks of what ifs
Breaking your glass heart of hopes

And you stand behind
With it pulling your legs backwards
From life
You stand there
With it painting your mind black
Till you cant get excited
Your mind
Becomes a tv with no signal
Future fear
Is white noise

But you grab your pride
To take the lead
You let your soul loosen up
Humming while it flys
Now listen up
You’ll turn on the lights
To search for your smile
To see
You’ll have it clear
Future fear will never again
Observe you as its home
Write what I remember
Remember why I'm writing
Light what I remember
Remember what needs lighting
Fight what I remember
Remember why I'm fighting
Unite what I remember
Remember what needs uniting
Though I have my doubts about my work, I always remember why I chose to do what I do. And it's not just from me, but from my close family, blood or not.
And you guys here on the HP platform.
Really, I can't thank you guys enough.
I'll remember why I write. I'll remember what to light. I'll remember why I fight. I'll remember to unite.
Thank you all. God bless!
Lyn xxx
She writes so for one brief moment
Someone somewhere understands
And in that moment
Neither the reader or the poet
Are alone and misunderstood
Do not misinterpret my silence
As an absence of fortitude
I choose to raise my pen
Instead of my voice
Your spoken words
Will fade with time
My words will remain
Ink stained imprints on your mind
Long after I’m forgotten
I can't write about you

Perhaps that's why I've been so quiet
Not quite silent
But it's lessened
He can't believe me
Sophia 3d
Write before you grow tired of the world
And then write some more

I want to hear your voice
i am trying   i am trying to write
but i can't seem to find the right
because today i tasted june's rain
showers      they tasted sweet and
                       like a memory i never
wanted    my pocket is a dog's house
and i own no dog    dear god i am a
sinner with a leash     i hope
                    and pray
that thy holy rope can carry my
there is something pretty about
long queues    it's like measuring
       the distance between
one birthday        and another i
hate birthdays the people who
forget i hate even more
         bear with me
i could have been the candle
that never dreamed of wick
       and fire and wax and
light    you only remember when
the lights go out or when you for—
get about the due date or when you
get to celebrate another year  
                   her tongue reeks
of patience   said she’d wait for
the right moment so we tore
our moment apart      the loose
ends would surround me like
tendrils to their prey    how sad:
  a moment has a name
                        and a face
but no heart     but only if it’s
                not right  
i have memories of you
telling me that every raindrop
    has a secret name
and that by uttering one
                 correctly one
can kiss it without bursting
i am trying    i am trying to write
something but i keep forgetting
          i have even forgotten
                     your name
I think
I fall for
find more
to write
your name
in my
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