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#case
The sun rises in the east, clearly evident, glorifying the gardens of every house. And somewhere in the forest, a human hums, while another faintly breathes. In a moment, the glow lit every corner of that forest. Have you seen the eyes of that person? The one at the bottom did. She resisted, perhaps unsuccessfully, only to be buried, to be found, to be reported, and to become nothing. Cases do run cold for many years, as cold as the body - but not as cold as the heart of the person, who witnessed the sunrise, and the faint breaths you released in the forest.
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 2:35 PM UTC
Nature's Indifference
and of course, when you make it and you make it and make it and make it over to the place where your dreams become blue flowers; you liked those would you pick a stem, if you happen to remember me for a moment in time; would my words happen to strike you since after all i was only pixels and pictures? would you lay down a flower for me, since i won't make it?
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Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 7:41 PM UTC
in case i don't make it
It feels like you're not capable of change Too old Too selfish Simply too deranged Too late to take back all the damage rendered Surroundings diminished since day you first entered When facing adversity you choose to run To you life a game but it isn't any fun I wish you'd be forced to endure the same hurt you inflict Then while you are on the ground simultaneously kicked Who could love somebody like you? (Besides your family) Only related because they're required to be Someone making others miserable just because they can The female version of the Tin Man I find it hard to believe many consider you attractive Every move you make is to your appearance detractive When they start seeing your ******** you hit the road Onto the next victim's life to corrode You have strength in manipulation Weakness in heart Only a matter of time till your charade falls apart Maybe somebody will reach through and you will actually grow Be better inside not only just for show But for now darkness has a hold of your soul Consumption steadily taking control Friendships should treasure not throw away like they're trash Setting fire and watching while they burn into ash But isn't it what you do best? Tear everyone into shreds? Worming way into their lives to purposefully **** with their heads I have zero idea what you gain with your depravaties Mind must be stricken with some type of mental disease Arms cannot reach to touch or hug somebody close Fingers busy fumbling for your next dose Or stealing objects that do not belong to you Try in my house again and you'll end up black and blue From beginning should have treated you like an aggressor Never given opportunity to rifle through our dresser If paths cross once more I promise it's on sight Don't plan on showing mercy You better be prepared to fight Hope you look over shoulder every waking minute of the day By the time I hit your peripheral it'll be too late to run away I want to teach a lesson-one you will not forget Believe this poem is much more than a threat Up until now sky has been the only limit to your offenses Perhaps a beating necessary for you to come to your senses If man above DOES exist I am certain he would approve Of me striking the wickedness evident in your every move In nearby future I foresee a shifting of fate's cards It will soon be YOUR life dissembled into broken shards Regret the heaviest weight for your hands to carry Have done too much wrong-no amount of dirt can bury Your imperfections may be covered by the familiar cloak of night Come sunrise what's hidden will be exposed by blinding light A plethora of lies scattered over this globe Switching identities as quickly as clothes in wardrobe Your evil spans fabric of time and space Insults and destruction will never be erased You drown the whispers of ghosts with meaningless noise Inner serenity exchanged for fleeting interactions with boys What a great role model for daughter you've become If she follows in your footsteps to be like you she will be phony and dumb I cannot wait to kick your *** and get the sweetest revenge My mother's untimely death I will then have avenged The instruments of detriment drugs and alcohol Both contributed to downfall I can't blame you for the dope or the start of her alcohol abuse It is your fault the liquor was reintroduced She was mostly sober when you began bringing ***** around You left that bottle there it was soon thereafter downed After that spiraled out of control On her already declining health it took a massive toll So **** you for being selfish not caring about her sobriety All I will ever consider you is an enemy For her demise and everything you stole from our home Pretending to be sweet as honeycomb Should have peered through your facade sooner but you put on a great show Doubt you'll amount to anything more than a scandalous ** But all you've torn will heal and rise up even stronger Won't have to tolerate your perversity any longer It might be holier to choose the high road but I don't think that will be the case As soon as I get the chance I'm going to smash your ugly face
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Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 12:37 AM UTC
Skull **** Chuck (Part 2)
It feels like you're not capable of change Too old Too selfish Simply too deranged Too late to take back all the damage rendered Surroundings diminished since day you first entered When facing adversity you choose to run To you life a game but it isn't any fun I wish you'd be forced to endure the same hurt you inflict Then while you are on the ground simultaneously kicked Who could love somebody like you? (Besides your family) Only related because they're required to be Someone making others miserable just because they can The female version of the Tin Man I find it hard to believe many consider you attractive Every move you make is to your appearance detractive When they start seeing your ******** you hit the road Onto the next victim's life to corrode You have strength in manipulation Weakness in heart Only a matter of time till your charade falls apart Maybe somebody will reach through and you will actually grow Be better inside not only just for show But for now darkness has a hold of your soul Consumption steadily taking control Friendships should treasure not throw away like they're trash Setting fire and watching while they burn into ash But isn't it what you do best? Tear everyone into shreds? Worming way into their lives to purposefully **** with their heads I have zero idea what you gain with your depravaties Mind must be stricken with some type of mental disease Arms cannot reach to touch or hug somebody close Fingers busy fumbling for your next dose Or stealing objects that do not belong to you Try in my house again and you'll end up black and blue From beginning should have treated you like an aggressor Never given opportunity to rifle through our dresser If paths cross once more I promise it's on sight Don't plan on showing mercy You better be prepared to fight Hope you look over shoulder every waking minute of the day By the time I hit your peripheral it'll be too late to run away I want to teach a lesson-one you will not forget Believe this poem is much more than a threat Up until now sky has been the only limit to your offenses Perhaps a beating necessary for you to come to your senses If man above DOES exist I am certain he would approve Of me striking the wickedness evident in your every move In nearby future I foresee a shifting of fate's cards It will soon be YOUR life dissembled into broken shards Regret the heaviest weight for your hands to carry Have done too much wrong-no amount of dirt can bury Your imperfections may be covered by the familiar cloak of night Come sunrise what's hidden will be exposed by blinding light A plethora of lies scattered over this globe Switching identities as quickly as clothes in wardrobe Your evil spans fabric of time and space Insults and destruction will never be erased You drown the whispers of ghosts with meaningless noise Inner serenity exchanged for fleeting interactions with boys What a great role model for daughter you've become If she follows in your footsteps to be like you she will be phony and dumb I cannot wait to kick your *** and get the sweetest revenge My mother's untimely death I will then have avenged The instruments of detriment drugs and alcohol Both contributed to downfall I can't blame you for the dope or the start of her alcohol abuse It is your fault the liquor was reintroduced She was mostly sober when you began bringing ***** around You left that bottle there it was soon thereafter downed After that spiraled out of control On her already declining health it took a massive toll So **** you for being selfish not caring about her sobriety All I will ever consider you is an enemy For her demise and everything you stole from our home Pretending to be sweet as honeycomb Should have peered through your facade sooner but you put on a great show Doubt you'll amount to anything more than a scandalous ** But all you've torn will heal and rise up even stronger Won't have to tolerate your perversity any longer It might be holier to choose the high road but I don't think that will be the case As soon as I get the chance I'm going to smash your ugly face
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84
have it on good authority Tommy-boy, that the the Joni song. "I could drink a case of you," was possibly written for you! Entirely likely, Since reality Is on course, of course, when one starts down the course of drinking your word wine, the hors d'oeuvres to your poems, the real 'beat' of you, who lives in that world, resurrecting their spirit, He, The Case, even kinda looks like Ginsburg, Allen,^^ the angel incarnate, (for whom we poets recite the Kaddish), and should you happen be doing justice in the vicinity of, a bookstore in his town ("Bass Capital of the West") you might just hear 'im, expounding line by line, his compositions, hawking his hawks, selling his talents for free~ dom how will you recognize him? by his creative spark, hidden beneath that hearted head where his heart resides and.where he hides that giant W that is his work's diminutive,^^^ as in wunnerful. amen                                                                                                           nml
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Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
The Case of Case^
have it on good authority Tommy-boy, that the the Joni song. "I could drink a case of you," was possibly written for you! Entirely likely, Since reality Is on course, of course, when one starts down the course of drinking your word wine, the hors d'oeuvres to your poems, the real 'beat' of you, who lives in that world, resurrecting their spirit, He, The Case, kinda looks like Ginsburg, Allen, ^^ ^the angel incarnate, (for whom we poets recite the Kaddish), and should you happen be doing justice in the vicinity of, a bookstore in his town ("Bass Capital of the West") you might just hear 'im, expounding line by line, his compositions, hawking his hawks, selling his talents for free~ dom how will you recognize him? by his creative spark, hidden beneath that hearted head where his heart resides and.where he hides that giant W that is his work's diminutive, ^^^ as in wunnerful. amen
0
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 10:57 AM UTC
The Case of Case^
of the molecules of the water they will swim in, that flow by my citybounded abode in a tidal estuary heading fir dispersal and aspersions into the Great Atlantic Ocean which I will visit come the spring, and are etched yet then within the relentless waves of the those very same atoms, upchurning and upspitting white foam which will very lively likely contain new poems, perhaps, perhaps even, those writ by fish in their dreams, for who actually knows the original origins of the dreams we drink daily, not I, who finds them when the wet smoke of fog of evaporated water kisses my lips! P. S. perhaps I have written poems authored by the very same fish you held in your grasp once upon a time in a photo)
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Jan 2, 2025
Jan 2, 2025 at 12:19 PM UTC
Mr. Thomas W Case: I do not dream of fish, but
Atul Subhash, I empathise with you, This modern age is evil. Your wife behaved narcissistically, The judge behaved more so. I can understand your situation, And you're a lesson, an inspiration. I won't ever get married, brother, For I fear divorce, yes, I do. Instead of getting married, I'd rather get a cat, yes, a cat. As for my monies, oh the dust, I'll donate it all to a cause. Animal welfare, Medical research. Somewhere useful, But not in a marriage.
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Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 10:36 AM UTC
Atul Broke Down
Sometimes I want to Kiss you Sometimes I want to Choke you Sometimes I want to Hug you At times I want to Poke you You make me want to Slap you I Really want to Kick you But just remember that ALL the time I want to Love you 😍 ❤️ 💕 But Sometimes I just can't stand you Sometimes I get real agitated At times you get on my case Because of tensions your racking my nerves You need to get outta my face When Lonely your on my mind I wanna be with you ALL the time in Reality you will Find I'm your Baby and you're Mine But you get on my nerves Sometimes!!! By: Belinda Richmond Date: 9/10/2022
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Sep 7, 2024
Sep 7, 2024 at 1:54 PM UTC
Sometimes
~ March 2023 HP Poet: Thomas W. Case Age: 53 Country: USA Question 1: We are very happy to have you participate, Thomas. So how long have you been writing poetry, and how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Thomas W. Case: “I've been writing poetry since I was 16, and I've been a member of hello poetry for 3 years.” Question 2: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Thomas W. Case: “The things that inspire me to write are life: the good, the bad, the ugly. Emotion inspires me to write. Poems come to me in many different ways. Sometimes in pictures, sometimes a word will pop into my head and I will write around it. And sometimes a situation in my life will transpire and I will write to process it.” Question 3: What does poetry mean to you? Thomas W. Case: “Poetry is cathartic for me. It's a lifesaver, it gives me a unique perspective on the world, it helps me to make sense of life. Poetry is my highway through the madness.” Question 4: Who are your favorite poets? Thomas W. Case: “Charles Bukowski, Pablo Neruda, Dylan Thomas, and W.B. Yeats.” Question 5: What other interests do you have? Thomas W. Case: “Writing short stories, reading, and spending time with my kids.” Mr. Timetable: “Thank you so much, Thomas! We really appreciate your willingness to be the first one to be spotlighted.” Thomas W. Case: “Thank you, man. I look forward to seeing the post and how it turns out.” And thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Thomas a little bit better. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable) We will post Spotlight #2 in April! ~
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Mar 14, 2023
Mar 14, 2023 at 7:50 PM UTC
HP Writers Spotlight: Thomas W. Case
~ March 2023 HP Poet: Thomas W. Case Age: 53 Country: USA Question 1: We are very happy to have you participate, Thomas. So how long have you been writing poetry, and how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Thomas W. Case: “I've been writing poetry since I was 16, and I've been a member of hello poetry for 3 years.” Question 2: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Thomas W. Case: “The things that inspire me to write are life: the good, the bad, the ugly. Emotion inspires me to write. Poems come to me in many different ways. Sometimes in pictures, sometimes a word will pop into my head and I will write around it. And sometimes a situation in my life will transpire and I will write to process it.” Question 3: What does poetry mean to you? Thomas W. Case: “Poetry is cathartic for me. It's a lifesaver, it gives me a unique perspective on the world, it helps me to make sense of life. Poetry is my highway through the madness.” Question 4: Who are your favorite poets? Thomas W. Case: “Charles Bukowski, Pablo Neruda, Dylan Thomas, and W.B. Yeats.” Question 5: What other interests do you have? Thomas W. Case: “Writing short stories, reading, and spending time with my kids.” Mr. Timetable: “Thank you so much, Thomas! We really appreciate your willingness to be the first one to be spotlighted.” Thomas W. Case: “Thank you, man. I look forward to seeing the post and how it turns out.” And thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Thomas a little bit better. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable) We will post Spotlight #2 in April! ~
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21
A quick knock on wood Pondering if I should Knock again in case The first one was in haste
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Nov 13, 2020
Nov 13, 2020 at 5:51 AM UTC
Knock On Wood
I'm going through a dry spell. I thought a challenge would be fun. Write your best tribute to Charles Bukowski poem or write a poem that could be a lost poem of Bukowskis'. He is my favorite writer and I thought maybe this Challenge would break my writer's block. Be sure to put in the Author's notes the mention that it is a poemfor the Thomas w. Case/ Bukowski challenge.
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Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 9:59 AM UTC
Thomas Case Challenge for Bukowski
I’m just a girl from LA. I was swapped like a small puppy between owners, some that treated me like a pet, some like just another possession.. No one thinks of beauty as a curse but it has haunted me all my life. Beauty seems to be associated with the ****** and men and women alike feel entitled to use you for their own satisfaction. That was a lesson I learned early. I also learned the advantages of agreeing. I got married at 16 only to escape, I was used and abused. We divorced fortunately. While working at the factory somebody took my picture  and said I could make a living as a model. I let them take many photos over the years, many I was ashamed of. Again I was used for other people’s gains., The only person who ever accept me as me was Joe D. I actually loved him and he loved and respected me. I made many movies, the “Misfits being my latest with Clarke, my hero. People were drawn to me, Presidents, senator’s, attorneys general.... not for me but for their personal use and gratification. They introduced me to drugs That make the day to day pain go away. I get no pleasure from what they demand of me, but the drugs make it bearable. He is coming tonight and I look forward to being detached from reality for a short time. I know I’ll be me again in the morning but the brief escape tonite is a blessing. More later... We all know there was no later for Marylin. If she had lived and wrote a poem here’s what I think she would have wrote... My life was an act, I never got to play myself. I played the part out of necessity so often that I forgot who I was. A life of not being you is a life without the soul you were born with. I search for me but am always obstructed by those saying who I should be. I yearn for the day that Marylin can be Norma Jean. I’d love to meet her, maybe tomorrow...
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Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 7:39 AM UTC
Marilyn Monroe...
I’m just a girl from LA. I was swapped like a small puppy between owners, some that treated me like a pet, some like just another possession.. No one thinks of beauty as a curse but it has haunted me all my life. Beauty seems to be associated with the ****** and men and women alike feel entitled to use you for their own satisfaction. That was a lesson I learned early. I also learned the advantages of agreeing. I got married at 16 only to escape, I was used and abused. We divorced fortunately. While working at the factory somebody took my picture  and said I could make a living as a model. I let them take many photos over the years, many I was ashamed of. Again I was used for other people’s gains., The only person who ever accept me as me was Joe D. I actually loved him and he loved and respected me. I made many movies, the “Misfits being my latest with Clarke, my hero. People were drawn to me, Presidents, senator’s, attorneys general.... not for me but for their personal use and gratification. They introduced me to drugs That make the day to day pain go away. I get no pleasure from what they demand of me, but the drugs make it bearable. He is coming tonight and I look forward to being detached from reality for a short time. I know I’ll be me again in the morning but the brief escape tonite is a blessing. More later... We all know there was no later for Marylin. If she had lived and wrote a poem here’s what I think she would have wrote... My life was an act, I never got to play myself. I played the part out of necessity so often that I forgot who I was. A life of not being you is a life without the soul you were born with. I search for me but am always obstructed by those saying who I should be. I yearn for the day that Marylin can be Norma Jean. I’d love to meet her, maybe tomorrow...
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Innately We all are The healers On finding The right sufferer One day We will realize After all
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May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 9:54 AM UTC
Heal