#david
Heart hurts and great deception,
Words said with harsh inflection
Find no space in company comfort,
In the grace of God, you stand triumphant.
It is like David, that in our lowest,
Our hearts cry out, in words of poet,
For despite the strength we might display,
Our hearts are easy to decay,
So in this place I sit and pray,
For all the pain to go away.
My heart is weak and not worth saving,
But that is my God's favourite craving.
May 2
May 2, 2026 at 6:42 PM UTC
David looks different
under a hazy pink sky,
at least to my wearied eye,
anyways.
Once he loomed tall
and imposing, every inch
the chiseled adonis,
cold marble, a burning gaze
that would see the world in flames,
unafraid of his home
turning to cinders in the blaze.
But now the cracks appear...
or maybe they were always here
and only now are clear,
in any case -
the once-boy seems tired.
World-worn, lost in thought,
forlorn,
back bent, nigh-broken,
brow heavy with the weight
of sorrows unknown,
yet all too close to home.
Perhaps wishing that night
might finally fall
on Florence.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 11:08 PM UTC
Behold the hymn that sings without words,
The quiet symphony of the waking earth.
Nature, the ancient artist, brushes the sky.
She is the first poem, the sacred verse,
Carved in mountain lines, and oceans curves.
Her voice is thunder, her laughter rain,
Her silence ? An alter where peace remains.
The river writes cursive, winding free,
Telling tales to rocks and trees.
Leaves clap in the rhythm of the wind's applause.
And flowers open like psalms in bloom.
The sky wear it moods in robes of flame,
From sapphire calm to silver storm.
The moon and sun ? Lantern guiding dreamers right.
Let's appreciate nature, let's feed our eyes with thy beauty.
Jan 22
Jan 22, 2026 at 6:03 AM UTC
ON THIS THRESHOLD
Now I hold a key to Solomon’s Seal
It fits the Star of David too
Rock climbed the Walls of Wisdom
Cornerstones well placed towards a
Throne of Love, ****** thorns my rope
Courage dissolved into pebbles of joy
As loneliness became Aloneness
On this threshold my nails oxidised
Into water atoms, fire ashed my carbon
Womb aglow with vacancy, heart an
Open page of becoming you will not
Know unless you are ready for Grace
Beckoning from fields of dandelions as
Soccer fields shatter into pastures
On this threshold you are observed by
Luminous eyes which dissolve pigment
Hair, feet, bones, marrow, brain cells
Pleasure and pain like autumn leaves
Make compost before pearls and rubies
Body becomes only heart splintering
Into the spacelessness before the hole
Fingerless I stroke the burnished key
Know how to insert it into my given space
I see skylarks in a shimmering silence
Silver serpents twirl around golden orbits
The threshold disappear as I slide
Into a nothingness of Light at
Peace
©GhairoDanielsPoetry2014
Dec 10, 2025
Dec 10, 2025 at 4:18 AM UTC
I never dreamed
I’d say goodbye—
The thought was just too far.
Your name was written
In every tomorrow,
Not in the silence of stars.
Plans lay folded,
Like clothes we never wore,
Journeys whispered
But never begun.
Words caught in the hush
Between heartbeats—
And now, they're gone.
I never saw it coming,
This aching, quiet end.
The world still turns,
But I remain—
Still not ready
To let you go.
Still holding on
To then.
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 3:11 PM UTC
David P. Carroll is a poet and writer who stands up for justice, particularly for suffering children and women. He has been featured on the news and radio, discussing poetry, and has won competitions and certificates for his writing ¹.
Carroll's poetry covers a range of topics, including love, social justice, and Irish heritage. He has published poems like "Falling in Love" and "Happy St. Patrick's Day" ² ³. His work is available on various platforms, including Hello Poetry, where he has shared his poems and mentioned being on TV talking about poetry ⁴.
Carroll's romantic poetry book is also mentioned, showcasing his versatility as a writer ¹. Overall, David P. Carroll is a passionate poet and writer who uses his words to promote justice, love, and social awareness.
Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 3:21 AM UTC
I miss my little brother. Especially at harvest. He was a hard worker – strong back and long reach. The kind of brother you want around.
‘Course, there was much more to him than strength and size. His art demonstrates that. He used to love experimenting with oils in his down time and had a knack for vivid battle scenes.
They say you paint what you know and not a year went by when he wasn’t called up for service. They would come to the farm to say the king needed him, and there was no refusing that call.
What he saw on the front line haunted him. So much was expected of him of course, but I think we overestimated his ability to cope with the ordeal of combat. Folk mistook his stature for a propensity for violence that needed release. We knew different. He was happier in the fields.
I heard dad talking with him while he painted. It was clear my brother knew the value of a champion. The lives saved. The men who got to go back to their farms and families. The gods had gifted him, dad said. But when I see his canvases, that’s where I see the gift. Lasting reminders of the trauma that lesser men can wrought. Reminders of the suffering one man can save us from.
I miss Goliath.
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 12:39 PM UTC
I too ...
am grief stricken
& wanted of wear
I'm still haunted by
that place ...
where the Truth lies
& Souls be ******
without hope
or care !!!
Oct 18, 2024
Oct 18, 2024 at 3:10 AM UTC
David repented and seventy thousand fell
Jerusalem's execution stayed for God relented
And where the Angel stood the Temple arose
Anti-David hardened and strengthened
The war entrenched and more enemies joined
Captives remained and fires uncontrollably raged
Surely this time it'll be more than three years
And enemies indestructible more wicked shall be
And Jerusalem's destruction, once more, unstayed
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 2:08 AM UTC
THINGKING AM LOST
DROWNED IN THE CORNER......
JUST LEFT-BEHIND
ALONE IN THE DARKESTSIDE....
NO ONE TO TURNED INTO~
MY GRIEF OF SILINCE AND LOST!
YET, HELLO POETRY AWAKES
TO TAKE MY SENSES AND BE FREE....
YOU ARE THIER MATE's
TO WAKKEN's ME UP AND FREE!
TO LET GO!
AND BE FREE AGAIN.
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 10:34 AM UTC
YOU ~
THINK YOUR ARE RICH ENOUHG
REACHING THE SKY
ME~
KNOWING STILL, DEEP THINGS INSIDE
REACHING THE STAR's.
AT THE END's OF THE DAY's
ARE WE, BOTH STILL THINKING A PART?
OR WE ~
NOT THE SAME SAME THINGS IN MINDS!
OF KNOWING OUR TIME!
IN THE SERVICE's OF FAITH,
AND FOR THE FILIPINO's PEOPLE's!
WE BOTH DIE ALONG THE WAY's
THUS, WE BOTH FIND THAT PART.....
OF WHO WE ARE?
A
SPACES BETWEEN US!
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 10:14 AM UTC
Beneath the fair blue face of Heaven, harp
In hand, a shepherd flats an A that's sharp.
He plucks and tunes and finds the perfect pitch
And plays a harmony exceeding rich.
The afternoon is hot, and all the sheep
Are full of grass and falling fast asleep.
Cotton ball clouds go slowly floating by
While drowsy songbirds neither sing nor fly.
Even the shiny fish in waters cool
Nap in the cooler shadows in the pool.
Save for the sound of rills that gently spill,
All things are silent. Everything is still.
So too a watchful lion keeping eyes
Upon a ewe lamb dozing where she lies.
As still as stone he stalks his sleepy prey:
He's waited patiently the livelong day.
And now the time has come to work his plan,
While most at ease is bird and beast and man.
He takes the first small steps in his approach,
Then breaks into a run and makes the poach.
Bewildered sheep in panic loudly bleat—
Asleep to wide awake in one heartbeat!
The shepherd's senses rush, and running down
The brute, he smites the beast upon his crown.
Dazed and confused, the lion drops the lamb
That lives but by the grace of Him, I AM.
The shepherd grabs the lion's beard, and, hair
In hand, he slays him (as he'll slay a bear.)
Returning safe the lamb unto the flock,
The shepherd goes and stands upon a rock.
He lifts his hands to God, and, singing psalms
Of praise, he gives the LORD his weather'd palms.
Cotton ball clouds go slowly floating by
As stars begin to twinkle in the sky.
Feb 17, 2023
Feb 17, 2023 at 1:08 PM UTC
Then the arch painter,
up in the blue yonder,
stirs the sea of colours,
and posing in style,
infuses the magic with
tangerine daylight.
Then I don't know
if you were walking
by a brook or a river,
you would tune in,
perhaps like the sweet singer,
Hebrew King David,
the water nymph hums a melody.
Then the narrative resonates,
it never just goes away like the wind.
Birds chirp and sing
in the groves and on every street.
Then I was watching the BBC
on a black and white screen,
the beloved monarch had passed away,
and Britain was mourning.
Then she appeared
once in a stolen exhibition
by my poetry in motion
and jolly happy she was admiring
now she's gone I just dreamed.
Then amidst the melancholy,
I heard twittering birds chirping,
missing the mellifluous melodies,
so awesomely sweet,
alas, Queen Elizabeth wasn't there
to speak her English!
Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 9:06 PM UTC
Give someone a joint.
Watch them glow.
Watch the squirrel run down the birch wood tree.
Congruency in lives,
It’s complexity is unmatched like
The Mighty Leaf
Vs
The Hungry Giraffe,
Who’s David?
Lalalaisallthismeans.
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 12:18 AM UTC
That night was intense
When you kissed me it was on
I felt your love bomb.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 3:31 PM UTC
For weeks and weeks I've viewed this site
Hoping that some day it might
Produce good verse instead of *****
But now I know this hope is vain
And I'll not pass this way again
and to my mind this site should be
Not 'Hello' but 'Crap' Poetry.
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 4:48 AM UTC
Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
I see the passion in your eyes and now I saw the big surprise
"Cause there was a time
All I did was wish
And now I know it was love
Although it's not the way I hope
Or how I felt,
Somehow it fells lust,
But now we're standing face to face
It's in this world
A crazy place
And when I thought my chance to be loved has passed
You came and save the best of times.
All of the night you sent your words
When depression comes upon me.
I wonder how you know my feeling
Because your words always heal my depression
And build up my hope so high
It's not the way I want it how I felt
Somehow it is love
And now we're standing face to face
Is it in this world, my love, David P Carroll
Because just when I thought my chance has passed
You came and safe the best for the lifetime.
I love you 🌹❤️
Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 7:26 PM UTC
COCOONING IN HIS HEART FOREVER.
Cocooning away with my
Lover David P Carroll today
Falling in love with him feels so beautiful every day,
It's like climbing a mountain
Once your at the top you truly
See it's beauty between you and me,
Together in love we'll be with the Lord's
Blessings shining upon us
Every day we thank him and
Pray to him for our happiness and joy we share together every night,
So just listen to my heart
Every day it's beating
I love you I could never love Another man darling
As much as I truly love you.
Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 6:48 PM UTC
My Name is Shepard: When King David was very old, he could not keep warm
**********************
ancient kings grow aged, time offeres no exemptions,
hard life body, worn from glory, battle hoary, many women,
his story was not an allegory, it was allegorical story retold,
a poet loved the lord, sunk to sin, pride, yet, always asking why,
for all kings have boundaries, limits, even offenses unforgivable.
his psalms depleted, his eyes rapid failing, and the warmth
gone missing was not from his body, that but a side casualty,
his eyes were to mountains cast, wondering whence will come.
a warmth needed live forever, knowing full well no such power
exists except his Lord’s lasting embrace, their joint, last verse.
<>
My name is David, born a shepard boy, dying a king, a human saved
by the hand of the Lord from the paw of the lion and jaws of the bear,
gave courageous trust to slay a Philistine giant, the greatest gift?
To pen powerful words that long outlived my actions and misdeeds,
a gift transferred to you and you, a certain knowledge that truthful
writs, will be your everlasting scrip and scripture, a name well recalled, poems of praise, songs of lament and sorrow, lyrics of wisdom, even those of mistakes, errors of sin, asking for wisdom for the greatest bravery, to ask, and greater still, to give forgiveness.
the warmth I seek will arrive at last, as the watchmen recite my poems by candlelight to me, as I ascend to meet my maker, the candle giving both heat and light for this is the dual nature of human life, this balance striven to leave our ledger level, letting our history be an honest reflection of we we were, who we hoped to be, and the record giving the warmth of our human truths long lasting.
******
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 10:32 AM UTC
You’re a disembodied voice
only appearing in mirrors
like the Candyman.
Sometimes I look into the mirror
and say your name three times
then finish jerking off.
Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 1:55 AM UTC
a state of standstill is a state of decline
an excess of sediment, an ineffective wine
i only hear that defining moment of time
in the less and less frequent creaking of the keys
the same old letters sadly clack
but can't ever get it back
heart's not in it
can't stay ******
overreactions come to attack
an embarrassing pervert that you already *****
every hour since a desperate hour
wolf crying wolf every five seconds
where the collective cower
****** is always his death name
dont wear it out
wear it where the collective cower
every hour since a desperate hour
hands in the pockets
of that dress with pockets
calling out his death name
when the coming time comes
wolf hands caught in the pockets
of that dress with the pockets
May 27, 2020
May 27, 2020 at 1:18 AM UTC
My Poem Will Be In The News In Several Asian Countries Tomorrow.
Thank you all very much God bless stay safe
Peace And Love.
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 5:37 PM UTC
her milk is him
her eyes are full of good tidings,
washing my body with lavender soap cake,
all the dirt crumbs of a hard life drained
into a circle of holes that carry away carings,
to places where their squeaking can’t be heard
her hands, pillows for a head so sorrow-weighty,
her body, her hips, a bed upon to rest,
and he wonders,
how did he exist before she become his nest,
her hair of grass, now, a coverlet for twigs and strings,
when then he laid his body down for disturbed sleep
her milk is him, a restorative that refreshes his content,
how did, once upon a time, he let existence subtract
his time on earth without any relativity, time unrecognizable,
he was in no one place, pathless, subsidizing nothing,
unable to distinguish tween the straight and the curved
her milk in him, whitens his soul, she calls out,
“*you are my shepherd, my king, my David,
my white marble sculpture of our current existence,
when you drink the white of me, it is I who is fulfilled,
when you write of me, your milk is me*”
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
Son of Ham, slave of slaves, reigned.
Humiliated, but unrepentant, defiant, and unfearing,
They asked for one of theirs to be king.
Saul, anointed and prophesied, crowned king.
David, feigned madness, fought for the Philistines.
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 6:24 AM UTC