#mk
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September 2023
HP Poet: Old Poet MK
Age: 80, but feels 79
Country: Canada
Question 1: We welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Old Poet MK. Please tell us about your background?
Old Poet MK: "I was a poor scholar…difficult concentration issues from grade school onward…very little was known about dyslexia in those early years…it’s a bit of a different world…many blessings and all kinds of curses. I was fortunate to invent and able to patent a few things that people were willing to pay for. My wife and I opened a small factory and manufactured decorative accessories for interior designers in the commercial market, offices…malls…lobby’s, etc. Making a living doing something you enjoy…feels good…and for almost 40 years It was hard working fun…I was inventing day and night."
Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Old Poet MK: "I recall attempting poetry when I was in my early 20’s…lyrics for tunes, etc…but I didn’t keep a record of that period, it wasn’t until my early 50’s when Leonard Cohen captured me in the magic of his rhythmic language…it was a melodic trap…the lyrics blew my mind and my world got a little bigger, from that time on I wrote frequently…and read the work of many poets trying to figure out how it all works….I wrote for my own enjoyment and a deep desire to improve...I began to submit my poems on a couple of sites about 12 years ago…I finally found Hello Poetry in 2016…the best of the lot in its own way…There are talented wonderful people here…"
Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Old Poet MK: "There’s no particular formula or pattern….I think it happens when I get a little edgy…and my unconscious has observed a puzzle untamed…for me poetry is self discovery, it emerges raw…and I do my best to tame it."
Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?
Old Poet MK: "Poetry is important to me….a sense of fulfilment digesting the work of the great poets…incredible philosophies between the words….reading the work of fellow poets…learning from heartfelt insight…I take my own work seriously and work hard on interpretation and refinement…it all feels a worthy time spent….squeezing meaning out of abstraction and allegory tongues or plain words. The freedom of poetry is a gift….the lightning speed of brevity conquers a complex point in a flash….compared to a few pages of prose…it is a fascinating creative process using colors of your own choice…up down or sideways…verse rhyme or hybrid…you birth an original poem."
Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?
Old Poet MK: "Leonard Cohen…I understand his misery. Irving Layton…another Canadian poet…a close friend and mentor of Cohen…fascinating love poems. Bukowski…for his genius and dignity. Mark Strait…amazing work that surprises. Billy Collins…the lightness of his heart. Emily Dickinson…who forced me to find the voice in a poem and it’s attitude to help me understand and interpret (as important as writing itself) and I don’t always get it…"
Question 6: What other interests do you have?
Old Poet MK: "It is wonderful when one retires and has a few hobbies and deep interests. I’m an Audiophile…with a proud record collection and old vintage gear. I clean, preen and constantly improve. I paint large abstract expression (acrylic on canvas), they take a long time, sometimes one will surprise me and end up on a wall. I’ve been playing saxophone since I was a kid….never could read worth a nickel, yet it’s been very rewarding…the challenge and joy of improvisation trusting your ear. In the world of jazz I’ve met and performed with amazing people…"
Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for giving us an opportunity to get to know you, my friend! You are a wonderful addition to the series!”
Old Poet MK: "Thank you Carlo…Appreciated….What you do is not easy…"
Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Old Poet MK a little bit better. I indeed did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)
We will post Spotlight #8 in October!
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Sep 1, 2023
Sep 1, 2023 at 2:31 PM UTC
She shines like a rainbow in the night
a light, unbounded and free
Her warmth is a welcome respite
thawing the deepest freeze
Her lips a red velvet chorus
I can't help but overhear
She glows with the translucent aura
of a picturesque sunset sea
Buttercups turn to greet her smile
she'll lift your head with ease
Trees send their leaves for thousands of miles
just to be in her breeze
Her eyes are an ocean of opalescent truths
inviting the bold to dive in
and swim to a world of untold hues
one night inside a diamond
In her violet dress and violent heels
The Devil would bare his soul for free
and so might I, for just a taste
the chance to lay her light to waste
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
How can you sleep at night
Knowing your tearing a family apart
Do you think your saving someone
Saving them and giving them a better life
In reaity YOUR NOT!!!!
"YOUR NOT ENOUGH "
She says
"You need to get stight A's"
"you need to change who you are"
And you cant stay stay who you are or where you belong
How can you sleep at night
When you used her for sexaul things
Then up and left
Useing her like a toy
Want to be left alone and loved at the same time.
How can you sleep at night
When you left , came back and left again then came back
"Your so bipoler"
My soul feel like a pit of blackness
broke many times now stronger
wanting to float away because been hurt many times
Anit it funny how you can sleep at night and the other person can't
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 12:54 PM UTC
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Areas 100100410000 (Boston, DCCXII) VIII) 3-42 Georgian Russian Model Michael ... - XVI XVI May, MMV (in press). XXI edge style products are important to understand the importance of ... X (Lightweight, Italy, Japan, Georgia, Colorado M. Martin, the relationship with a charming touch-drop image is published in the US and Russia III XXII Charles' Currency - The monuments, George B Bimima Nin (.. XI) (C) XLII XXXIV MMMC 4/4 Bretheak Heroes closed the Heroes of Asia / Ed / __ ER New George SiereshtōOṣim300 3,300,1683 TV MMMCLXIII Sweet Birds XXII, Chicken, Stacy's father Lin Of these formulas (XVI) D (II), F line (CCCXLI) BBC 1-2 (GA XLVIII MMVIII) February ** (CIX) 0:10 Hockey / Agriculture / cruxis (Greek Guarantee for Rachel) 9,000. 000
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
Fine,
if a bitter wind blows
Fine,
if a liar arrives
on my patio
hard heart
worn
right
with the
knuckle
skin
Fine,
pressed on the razor's edge
(grinning ear to ear as if I wanted it)
Fine,
when what was once the worst
(grinning ear to ear as if I wanted it)
returns to a placid place
below,
so
a new threat may
emerge
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 1:52 AM UTC
In a field at the edge where
The Burnet's reproduced
Their dark wings with six red spots
Giving birth on our hands
From inside their chrysalis.
Mating from egg, larvae
To pupae and adult moth
Took about three weeks
We went almost everyday
The hot sun stroking our backs.
This was our moth Summer
Guiding our courtship with
Fluttering wings and newness
Stepping through the railings
To gain this precious time.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 5:30 PM UTC
ive traveled here and there.
ive seen incredible works of art
and pieces of history
scattered across the globe.
never will i know "home",
never will i fully belong,
never will i not miss someone.
a life full of adventures
and new faces,
i wouldn't trade it for anything.
the pain is always there,
but the memories will never fade.
joy will always abound
in the hope for the future
and the days of the past.
being a world traveler,
a vagabond,
has its troubles.
but the rewards make
it well worth it.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Everytime I think about you, keeps me wonder...
Your eyes tell a story that makes me think deeper...
Wondering what those lips can tell that makes my ears want to hear without weary...
Never cared about your presence but every minute that chances give in seeing you each day, makes me seek your face in the place we first met.
Everytime I start to think about you, emotions of happiness fade between thoughts that reality may never drag us closer together...
For YOU and ME is the sweetest yet the saddest words that WE could never be.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 3:39 AM UTC
How can I explain to you
What is within me?
I am African
I am American
I am both
And I am neither
I am something
And I am nothing
And yet…I am everything.
But I cannot be like you
Trust me.
I’ve tried.
You say “Welcome back”
Like my roots are in this soil
But how can I explain to you?
Yes.
My body originated here.
But not my soul.
No.
My soul was born in the arms of Mama Africa
She is not the ancestor of my skin
But of my spirit
And my roots run deep in her red earth
Her drumbeat, my hear.
Yet here I am…
I look like you.
I sound like you.
But I am not like you.
And when I try to explain
What I’ve seen
And done
And known
And how I became
You feel as though I am big
And you are not.
But it isn’t true.
I am not bigger.
You are not smaller
We are just…different.
I contain a vastness
That is misunderstood
That vastness holds so much
Yet often feels so empty.
And I cannot be like you.
Trust me.
I’ve tried.
But when I do it feels like chains
Shackles of iron
I try to deepen my roots
For you.
But when I try
I can only seem to spread my wings
And I am sorry.
I am sorry that I cannot make my home in you.
I am sorry that I make you feel small.
I do not mean to.
I am sorry I cannot find the words to explain
What it is like
To feel as though your skin is too tight for your soul
To feel as though you are always
Nowhere and Everywhere
Nothing and Everything
No one and Everyone
Too much…and never enough
I am sorry.
But I am trying.
So when I try…
When I share with you these tangled feelings
When I crack open the door
To the whirlwind within
Do not ask me to shut it.
Please, do not ask me to hide away
Because you cannot relate to the chaos behind my eyes.
Don’t see the mess.
See me.
And love me.
For the mystery that I am.
To you.
And to myself.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
How long can I keep this up.
Pretending that I don't want more for us.
My heart just feels so lonely.
Each day I lose more faith in myself.
I wouldn't get to close to you,
But I can't deny how much I want to.
Your smile melts my soul,
And I can't seem to rid you from my heart.
I'll feel your kiss once again,
And when our lips meet our bodies will join.
Each deep little desire you crave with come true with me.
No judgments between us once the lights are turned low.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
eyes like God in the dirt.
and a question lingering in throat.
delicate tin hands grasp brushes firmly
while i lie on the floor by the bed.
and wish for a touch.
or a breath on the wind,
even that would sully the solitude.
worlds away,
static fills the atmosphere.
cards are counted.
bets are made.
each wager carries the weight of an oath.
and begs for indifference.
before a single megaton kiss
carries radiation through me.
settling in each bone
as my brain blood boils.
it burns my shadow into the sheets
hanging carefree from the mattress.
the wager is one.
and the tin hands are cold.
the space between worlds has diminished.
no indifference here,
despite efforts.
and cheeks become a pastel pink as i am mounted.
we wished it would stop this time,
before it started.
but wishes are for puppets.
and we are real.
especially together.
M.K. Spurlin. 3/22/2016.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
I've only been on this earth for 17 years
But already had the good honour of experiencing
evil and good from the youth of my peers
My precious vessel, you deserve nothing but the best
learn from my mistakes and make your life rest
One: The acne on your face does not determine how beautiful you as a person
Neither you're weight, height or stature. Your skin a shade of wonder, wear only the (dna) makeup of me and your father
Two: Your body is your temple, not a museum for those who want to feast on your flesh, for those dead eyes are shady and they want nothing less.
Three: Fall in love with everything around you, the stars, sky and moon. The sound of laughter, the rain drops too. Look from balconies and trees at the veins of the cities. And take pictures of people and weddings, savouring silver white memories.
Four: Make your own mistakes and learn. You are allowed to feel pain, there is still blood in you veins but don't let that sweep you away away away on dandelion heads
Five: Dearest, don't worry for a moment what they think; be prepared when they want to see you sink, respond with dimples, sunshine and light. For this is what makes the darkness strike
Six: Finally My girl love yourself, for all that you are and want to be; the music you love, the food you detest, those long family outings and that boy that you like best.
The list could go on and on with verse and song and book and word but Dear Daughter let this be the basis of your life. Carry it and write it on your flesh beating heart. For your flesh beating heart deserves life in it fullest.
©Rebekah Lazarus 2014
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC