Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#lakes
She is my lover Of a thousand moods. I never tire of gazing upon Her long lithe body, Her head pillowed On mountain slopes. She the mercurial Keeper of wind Which come Autumn, She will swirl just As a vibrant young woman Will swing a muffler ‘Round her neck. I awoke to almost silence, Sipped Italian roast To chase away the barefoot dreams Painfully afoot within my heart. Stepping onto the deck A tsunami of awe Washed with wonder My heart clean again. The night’s stormy anger Had torn Every star from the sky, Atop endless wavelets They now adorned Her morning robes. I whispered her name Wenatchee.
0
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 7:13 PM UTC
Wenatchee
The sun seemed to rise slowly, almost hesitantly, this morning - a yellow syrup pouring into a deep, dark blue sky. The air is hot and thick, like a low viscosity liquid. We’re going out on the boat this morning and when you have 9 passengers and crew, everyone’s toting something. Kim and Bili have towels and a shoulder bag of sunscreen lotions and repellents, Charles has a cooler with everything needed to make breakfast omelets on the grill (the eggs have been pre-beaten, the veggies pre-chopped, the cheese grated, the meat diced). Anna and Lisa are toting a cooler of sodas buried in ice. Leong has the “dry box” with phones, Nintendo switches, kindle readers and iPads. Leong’s rolling a luggage rack of textbooks, Sunny has a large coffee thermos, and Sophy has a bag with dry clothes for everyone. The girls are practically running over each other in their eagerness to be last onboard because the first two get to towel the night’s condensation off everything. I carried the lunch cooler full of Chick-fil-a sandwiches, but my main job is to check the indicators and disconnect the dockside water, drainage and electrical feeds as Charles takes the helm and begins his “preflight” before he fires up the Mercury 500-hp engines. I know we’re a “go” when he turns on the underwater lights - that’s my signal to cast off. The engines roar to life and then purr as we slowly pull away from the dock, we girls greasing ourselves up with sunblock. The air conditioning begins to help but picking up speed is what finally breaks the hold of the oppressive heat. As we exit the marina Charles opens-up on the throttle and that’s always a thrill. We usually ski first, before the lake gets crowded, and lounge later. Sunny, Leong and Anna like to sit in the bow, refreshed by occasional lake spray and the wind-whipped cool. Leong likes to sit in the cabin, like Charles’ copilot while the rest of us recline on lounges facing rearward to watch the skiers. Our summer mornings have passed like this, launching around 6 am, skiing, then swimming, studying and getting off the lake before the noontime “heat advisories” and afternoon thunderstorms. Later, I’m relaxing in the shade, having just gotten out of the lake, and I’m on my iPad. “What are you writing?” Anna asks. “Oh, I write poetry and stories - mostly stories these days but there is some occasional poetic recidivism.” I say. “You write poetry?” She repeats, as if shocked, “I didn’t think there were any poets left.” “Well,” I say, “Most poets died, in the early flames of science, trying to prove the pen was mightier than the sword, but there are still poets around - they live in cities where they’ll try and wash your windshield if you stop at a traffic light, and they’re frequently mistaken for the homeless - or they may actually be homeless.” “Can I read some of your writing?” She asks, after waiting through my long joke. “Absolutely NOT.” I answer.
0
Jul 8, 2022
Jul 8, 2022 at 2:35 PM UTC
boating
The sun seemed to rise slowly, almost hesitantly, this morning - a yellow syrup pouring into a deep, dark blue sky. The air is hot and thick, like a low viscosity liquid. We’re going out on the boat this morning and when you have 9 passengers and crew, everyone’s toting something. Kim and Bili have towels and a shoulder bag of sunscreen lotions and repellents, Charles has a cooler with everything needed to make breakfast omelets on the grill (the eggs have been pre-beaten, the veggies pre-chopped, the cheese grated, the meat diced). Anna and Lisa are toting a cooler of sodas buried in ice. Leong has the “dry box” with phones, Nintendo switches, kindle readers and iPads. Leong’s rolling a luggage rack of textbooks, Sunny has a large coffee thermos, and Sophy has a bag with dry clothes for everyone. The girls are practically running over each other in their eagerness to be last onboard because the first two get to towel the night’s condensation off everything. I carried the lunch cooler full of Chick-fil-a sandwiches, but my main job is to check the indicators and disconnect the dockside water, drainage and electrical feeds as Charles takes the helm and begins his “preflight” before he fires up the Mercury 500-hp engines. I know we’re a “go” when he turns on the underwater lights - that’s my signal to cast off. The engines roar to life and then purr as we slowly pull away from the dock, we girls greasing ourselves up with sunblock. The air conditioning begins to help but picking up speed is what finally breaks the hold of the oppressive heat. As we exit the marina Charles opens-up on the throttle and that’s always a thrill. We usually ski first, before the lake gets crowded, and lounge later. Sunny, Leong and Anna like to sit in the bow, refreshed by occasional lake spray and the wind-whipped cool. Leong likes to sit in the cabin, like Charles’ copilot while the rest of us recline on lounges facing rearward to watch the skiers. Our summer mornings have passed like this, launching around 6 am, skiing, then swimming, studying and getting off the lake before the noontime “heat advisories” and afternoon thunderstorms. Later, I’m relaxing in the shade, having just gotten out of the lake, and I’m on my iPad. “What are you writing?” Anna asks. “Oh, I write poetry and stories - mostly stories these days but there is some occasional poetic recidivism.” I say. “You write poetry?” She repeats, as if shocked, “I didn’t think there were any poets left.” “Well,” I say, “Most poets died, in the early flames of science, trying to prove the pen was mightier than the sword, but there are still poets around - they live in cities where they’ll try and wash your windshield if you stop at a traffic light, and they’re frequently mistaken for the homeless - or they may actually be homeless.” “Can I read some of your writing?” She asks, after waiting through my long joke. “Absolutely NOT.” I answer.
Continue reading...
16
i want to watch the sun bloom from the earth i want to watch the moon rise in the sky i want to lay down in an empty field in the dark and look up at the stars i want to watch the world be set on fire with color of the setting sun i want to see the reflection of clouds on a still lake i want to find shiny rocks in the sand but these are just small wishes that hide in the back of my ruined mind behind the boxes filled with words of telling me that I'm not good enough
0
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
wishes
Sometimes I think how different my life would have been if I was born in countryside among the mountains and lakes where I so desire to be
0
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 10:12 PM UTC
mountains and lakes
Its Way... nature has an assignment to wake up the seasons seasons have their own special way this should be performed birds chirping and singing in tune with the sun rising annual blooming of the desert cactus and flowers melting of the snow in higher elevations water gaining speed down rivers and streams waters that will fill lakes, ponds, and reservoirs trees are regaining leaves and providing shade for the ground below all in the name of life succession nature has its way... Brian Hill - 2020 # 114
0
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 2:27 PM UTC
Its Way
Ivy climbs gnarled knotted trunks Darker lines and streams divide where white wool digs below tufts of heather and tall tipped reeds Calm flat lakes vacate Pale hues of birch become rocky barren lands of moss and brown broken bracken Thick conifers multiplied for miles The mountain side tipped with ice Houses change like the hedgerow from new to old Some unfurnished whilst others glow
0
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 3:21 PM UTC
Ballyshannon to Cavan
the raised lakes of Beijing are fitted with the finest glass walls parents go there to unload their unwanted children the squids of the lakes grab hold of the children,           hug them                     adopt them                           teach them to breathe people walk by, pay no attention but the glass walls are built tall             wiped clear to the point where i can’t help but to notice. the orange plumed tentacles grown straight from the children’s backs           pulsing like a flame                   like a phoenix                          like a poppy’s bloom smeared by the color of the water’s haze or the tourist’s awe-shot eyes.
0
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 6:14 PM UTC
the raised lakes of Beijing
Al Petroleum. Fazing in n out. The flicker. The whisper. She's here. You took too much man. You took too much. Who said that. Garrett Johnson.
0
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 5:28 PM UTC
Al Petroleum
Hey ** Oh my ghosh! What a day this is. Lightning  streaks across the sky, The clouds clap and roar, Little lakes bubble with joy, The rivers rumble gaily down the mountains. Not to mention, The trees stand with limbs akimbo, Drenching from leaves to roots in the lovely rain, The birds cuddle in their nests, All sing tra la la la......................... For its raining, raining,raining.
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
Hey **
I tried to take a picture Of everyday I was with you I tried to take a picture Of all the happiness you bring I tried to take a picture Of the flowers that you sent The ones that were red With that very strong scent I tried to take a picture Of the day that shined so bright The way the sun radiated yellow Giving us its light I tried to take a picture Of the nights by the lake Where we sat in the blackened dark Smoking getting baked I tried to take a picture Of the smile on my face But I turned the camera around To hide the clear but staining tears that raced I tried to take a picture Of the love around me,dear But an uncompromising flash burnout Causes me fear I tried to take a picture Of the happiness you bring But what I captured Was the truth and its sting
0
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 2:31 AM UTC
I tried to take a picture
these lakes hold nothing more than the emptiness of my own two hands; than the silent fall of my breath. because the birds are awake and the sky is still an empty canvas that I didn’t finish, that I chose not to because these fingers would not keep still, because they were too focused on tracing you, and trying to twine you back together again, and the sun does not speak to us, not like we speak to it, It does not open its sad, dull mouth to try and herd together our aching, empty words, It does not speak in tune, it does not speak at all. and the moon does not look at us, not like we look at it, It does not try to study the placing of our bones, or our wide open arms and how they got that way, It does not wonder why we sing to it, why we sing to it with our hoarse throats and heavy eyes. these lakes write in cursive. These lakes write in ripples from our lips, whistling over them, delicate, trying not to disturb. these lakes know us. These lakes do not forget - can’t forget, because we have fixed our naked backs into their stomachs, floating, trying to write our way into the sonnet, trying to be a part of something other than our own selves. But the birds cry from grief, and all the water tries to do, is drown us. So we both walk home alone, bare feet parading over torn ground, shoes grasped between our bleeding hands. It’s better off this way. It’s always been better of this way.
0
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
how the water wrote a sonnet
Standing by a crystal lake, With the surface as still as time, I gazed into the reflection's soul, The same time it stared into mine. As the moon fell down the sky, As slow as an autumn leaf, It crept its way into the painting, Making the two of us feel complete. A gush of wind suddenly came, Revealing the fragility of our bond, Leaving the both of us, Simple vagabonds. Conceding, I walk away, On a path only by me explored, Whether our fates will ever cross again, Nor you or I will ever know. The wind is gushing again, Disturbing the serenity of willows, They sing, and sing again, About the love they just witnessed.
0
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 1:48 AM UTC
A moment of binding
Woke up, at Lake Balaton, wrote up, some words like Babylon, or rather, a rant on like the Tower of Babel, chant down, Babylon we build up and gather, or rather, we collect then scatter, collect the thoughts, then write them in patterns, sort of, like what prose is, bitter sweet, like what a rose is, smells good, but has thorns, stormy seas, but calm shores, snore, no, sleep, yes, wake, up, re-, freshed, at a resort on a vineyard, overlooking Lake Balaton, with a girl who is gorgeous, that let’s her ball of yarn unravel some, she says she’s my “substitute, in other words a replacement, for the other girl I was going to bring, with me on this 24 hour vacation, and at first this sounds like an insult to her, like she’s just here because the other one couldn’t make it, but really if she can so easily replace the first girl, then that means that the first girl was actually basic, and was easily replaced with, the new one, see the first is so last night, and this new one is so new dawn, I’m on, a level seldom reached, like a secret state of enlightenment, the type that’s so sacred it’s rarely preached, enlightenment, secret, oh there he goes again with that Illuminati talk, Jesus, Jesus, has nothing to do with this, the new one is on the balcony dancing, in the sunshine’s rays she’s beautiful, the old one is gone now, has no place in my life at all, except for on the shelve of Past Memories, that hangs on the Mind Museum’s wall, although, I had had an intense dream about the old one, I’d dreamt about her Illuminati tattoo, and we’d made love some of the best love made over, as if I was Adam and she was the Forbidden Fruit, ooh, what’s the truth, what’s perspective, what’s the proof, than any of this ever existed, what are we doing here, and how much longer will we be, why are so many slaves to their own projected fears, while so few are liberated with love and set truly free? And this all comes to me like a never ending dream, as I write this words which come to me in a conscious stream, as my new love dances outside on this resort’s balcony, overlooking Lake Balaton which is so big it looks more like the Caspian Sea, see, I woke up, at Lake Balaton, wrote up, some words like Babylon, or rather, a rant on like the Tower of Babel, chant down, Babylon we build up and gather, or rather, we collect then scatter, collect the thoughts, then write them in patterns… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆ author of the largest collection of poetry in the world.
0
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
∆ Lake Balaton
Woke up, at Lake Balaton, wrote up, some words like Babylon, or rather, a rant on like the Tower of Babel, chant down, Babylon we build up and gather, or rather, we collect then scatter, collect the thoughts, then write them in patterns, sort of, like what prose is, bitter sweet, like what a rose is, smells good, but has thorns, stormy seas, but calm shores, snore, no, sleep, yes, wake, up, re-, freshed, at a resort on a vineyard, overlooking Lake Balaton, with a girl who is gorgeous, that let’s her ball of yarn unravel some, she says she’s my “substitute, in other words a replacement, for the other girl I was going to bring, with me on this 24 hour vacation, and at first this sounds like an insult to her, like she’s just here because the other one couldn’t make it, but really if she can so easily replace the first girl, then that means that the first girl was actually basic, and was easily replaced with, the new one, see the first is so last night, and this new one is so new dawn, I’m on, a level seldom reached, like a secret state of enlightenment, the type that’s so sacred it’s rarely preached, enlightenment, secret, oh there he goes again with that Illuminati talk, Jesus, Jesus, has nothing to do with this, the new one is on the balcony dancing, in the sunshine’s rays she’s beautiful, the old one is gone now, has no place in my life at all, except for on the shelve of Past Memories, that hangs on the Mind Museum’s wall, although, I had had an intense dream about the old one, I’d dreamt about her Illuminati tattoo, and we’d made love some of the best love made over, as if I was Adam and she was the Forbidden Fruit, ooh, what’s the truth, what’s perspective, what’s the proof, than any of this ever existed, what are we doing here, and how much longer will we be, why are so many slaves to their own projected fears, while so few are liberated with love and set truly free? And this all comes to me like a never ending dream, as I write this words which come to me in a conscious stream, as my new love dances outside on this resort’s balcony, overlooking Lake Balaton which is so big it looks more like the Caspian Sea, see, I woke up, at Lake Balaton, wrote up, some words like Babylon, or rather, a rant on like the Tower of Babel, chant down, Babylon we build up and gather, or rather, we collect then scatter, collect the thoughts, then write them in patterns… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆ author of the largest collection of poetry in the world.
Continue reading...
93
We cruise rattlesnake bends. Once in, you find phantom lakes; I - a full moon over mountains of clay. Sitting at the wooden table the sun rises to my right and the mountains become blue under a grapefruit-shake sky. My hands are ***** My lips dry.
0
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
4 settembre 2017 (Death Valley)
Holding hands Creates wet lands More like sweat lands Our palms become lakes That precipitate Oh great He don't seem to mind All that water dripping behind Hope we don't cause a flood That'd be dangerous 'FLASH FLOOD FROM SWEATY LOVE' Maybe we should wear a glove On the hand we share So that there Is no cause for dismay YOU'RE OK! WE WON"T DROWN YOU IN OUR SWEAT OR BETTER YET WE WON"T DROWN YOU AT ALL! I laugh aloud He asks, What was that about? Oh great What should I say? Don't wanna offend my babe But anyway Can't lie to his face So I say, Drowning people. We suddenly stop His blue eyes, pop Right out of his face But confusion's erased As our sweaty hands, interlaced Become free once again I give a big grin Kissing his chin As we continue to make our way.
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
Real Life Romance
The woods are softly snowy deep Their noises all lain down to sleep While silver branches wrapped in white Send a thinly message plight A hush floats through the foggy air And think I oh if life was fair It would not be so bad to go Where dips and hollows fill with snow I feel no cold, it bites no more And far away a frozen shore The waves lap softly gently sweep As I drift downward ever sleep The birds fly quiet softly coo And now shall I fall silent too
0
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
Hollow Lakes and Silver Flakes
Languid lakes levitate my soul. Mists hang low upon those hills, While mountains scratch the surface of the sky. The world is whole, So full of thrills. No time to reason why. Galaxies spiral, out of control, Stars swirling in milky swills. Scenes I hope will never die. Yet time, I’m sure, will take its toll. And do whatever our God wills. Oh no! I hear you cry. Yet look at coal, or any tree bole. And look at fields of daffodils. Life’s next cycle is always nigh. Paul Butters
0
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
Languid Lakes
* some poems long to be gardens or more likely lakes enclosed and safe ideal for thinking suitable for letting go where even silence is guarded precious embracing yet leaving time out somehow a small palpitation held between hands
0
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
The Longing of Poems
Many drops are in the mysterious oceans, the filthy lakes, the murky rivers, the cloudy brooks, in the vast world. It's hard to find a drop that's different in the mysterious oceans, the filthy lakes, the murky rivers, the cloudy brooks, in the vast world. But all it takes is one divergent drop willing to break from the mysterious oceans, the filthy lakes, the murky rivers, the cloudy brooks, to persuade the drops in the vast world into becoming something gloriously beautiful.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC
Divergent Drop