#volunteer - Hello Poetry

When do you think you knew, you are common, nothing special, regular kid, everybody had belt whippin's at home, and paddling at principled schools marks, hex wounds remembered long after scars have faded and only some smells remain I, for one, did recognize the smell of cyanide, and cannabis, recognosis, first learned then smelled and remembered when, first then tying poison pen letters to smear campaigns it was common politics, business as usual, to become Johnny Tremaine, you gotta read the book, I did not, to become Holden Caufield, you gotta read the book, I did not, the only guys I know who did, are dead. There are deadly wrong ways to live long. Could who have seen Trump coming? Historic opera scale spectacle in times when children can see from Saturn to grasp the scale of closeness we share, after learning men use balanced measure- ment assuring mental values weigh surity all men are born equal on life's scale, not wars scale, not any mission men perceive received by anointed ones among us, lead on… we shall stand responsible for all federal debt, until hell freezes over and we pry the Winchester from Moses's Soylent Green stained pointy fingers and demonstrate professional confidence, ginger snaps smell, linger longer, think a one time what if we had, but didn't. Had all the ingrediency needed to make a morning last. And cinnamon for rolls in the oven, imagine that smell in Gaza this morning, with coffee.

0

May 23

May 23, 2026 at 1:39 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Look Away

When do you think you knew, you are common, nothing special, regular kid, everybody had belt whippin's at home, and paddling at principled schools marks, hex wounds remembered long after scars have faded and only some smells remain I, for one, did recognize the smell of cyanide, and cannabis, recognosis, first learned then smelled and remembered when, first then tying poison pen letters to smear campaigns it was common politics, business as usual, to become Johnny Tremaine, you gotta read the book, I did not, to become Holden Caufield, you gotta read the book, I did not, the only guys I know who did, are dead. There are deadly wrong ways to live long. Could who have seen Trump coming? Historic opera scale spectacle in times when children can see from Saturn to grasp the scale of closeness we share, after learning men use balanced measure- ment assuring mental values weigh surity all men are born equal on life's scale, not wars scale, not any mission men perceive received by anointed ones among us, lead on… we shall stand responsible for all federal debt, until hell freezes over and we pry the Winchester from Moses's Soylent Green stained pointy fingers and demonstrate professional confidence, ginger snaps smell, linger longer, think a one time what if we had, but didn't. Had all the ingrediency needed to make a morning last. And cinnamon for rolls in the oven, imagine that smell in Gaza this morning, with coffee.

38

What's in a volunteer, Why do you give your time freely, Besides an invisible tug From a thread of unknowns Or the fragility of having been in The spiders web themselves. Free of charge the service is provided With an infrequent "thank you" Which is felt like a breeze Of measured wind across the cheek as the barometer falls and rises Not once is it felt but if you let Your mind leave this world Being thanked is linked To every breeze I've ever felt from the day I was born arriving each time just when needed. The value of a thank you Is timeless, weightless and endures To create more energy to send the next monthly newsletter to an incarcerated soul. This is where grace hides.

0

Oct 26, 2025

Oct 26, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC

Highwireart

Volunteering Time

What's in a volunteer, Why do you give your time freely, Besides an invisible tug From a thread of unknowns Or the fragility of having been in The spiders web themselves. Free of charge the service is provided With an infrequent "thank you" Which is felt like a breeze Of measured wind across the cheek as the barometer falls and rises Not once is it felt but if you let Your mind leave this world Being thanked is linked To every breeze I've ever felt from the day I was born arriving each time just when needed. The value of a thank you Is timeless, weightless and endures To create more energy to send the next monthly newsletter to an incarcerated soul. This is where grace hides.

18

A dog shouldn't spend it's life in a cage, Where even a week can feel like an age. Sad and alone, not knowing when it will end, Wishing and hoping for a new human friend. But thanks to every volunteer's donated time, And every donators dollar, cent or dime, A new life is given to each beautiful pooch, A new family to love, cuddle and smooch. So thank you to everyone, your kindness is rare, We thank you so much, for your help and your care. ~ Written for the Oahu SPCA

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC

GemmaDavies

At The Shelter

A dog shouldn't spend it's life in a cage, Where even a week can feel like an age. Sad and alone, not knowing when it will end, Wishing and hoping for a new human friend. But thanks to every volunteer's donated time, And every donators dollar, cent or dime, A new life is given to each beautiful pooch, A new family to love, cuddle and smooch. So thank you to everyone, your kindness is rare, We thank you so much, for your help and your care. ~ Written for the Oahu SPCA

11

#Two hours with pay To roam around town Anything, to get away This cube paints my frown I used to do it just to get away But now I am not so sure Now I take, No I mean volunteer, My day The one moment I can savour Never thought pleasure would come By giving a helping hand Never thought a smile would be from Helping those that life has left astrand I travel the town for miles Deliver the weekly meals Return to work with a genuine smile A frown, upside down, now heals Well at least for a little while.#

0

Jun 22, 2018

Jun 22, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC

EvilShredder

Mobile Meals

#Two hours with pay To roam around town Anything, to get away This cube paints my frown I used to do it just to get away But now I am not so sure Now I take, No I mean volunteer, My day The one moment I can savour Never thought pleasure would come By giving a helping hand Never thought a smile would be from Helping those that life has left astrand I travel the town for miles Deliver the weekly meals Return to work with a genuine smile A frown, upside down, now heals Well at least for a little while.#

19

We risk our lives everyday every time that we clock in, it's our way of life and what we do its the way it's always been. We wake at 3 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair. In the darkness we don our gear Strap on helmet and boot, as one these brothers all get up go sliding down the chute. We run to the truck now wide awake and with ease we slide in, we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din. We race to the scene where smoke is showing no one knows who got out, we put on our airpacks and our masks to talk we must now shout. With axe in hand we enter therein the Devils home amidst the flame, we quickly search for everyone boy, girl, man and dame. The air is hot we can feel it through the clothe armor that we wear, but on we search through the building till we realize we're low on air. Another crew goes in In their hands the hose To find the seat of the flames It's advancement to oppose We cut the roof we pull the ceiling Our hands and feet lose all feeling We find a child we cover them up We rush back to the door We bring them to safety and go back in To check and search for more For hours the cycle repeats Till all is said and done The fire is out, we've done our job This time we won No fire is left and all are safe We put our tools and hose away And go back to the station Where hopefully we'll get to stay Our gears been scrubbed Time to rest our exhausted bodies We wake at 8 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair...

0

May 14, 2017

May 14, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC

ryan-long

A Fireman's Day

We risk our lives everyday every time that we clock in, it's our way of life and what we do its the way it's always been. We wake at 3 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair. In the darkness we don our gear Strap on helmet and boot, as one these brothers all get up go sliding down the chute. We run to the truck now wide awake and with ease we slide in, we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din. We race to the scene where smoke is showing no one knows who got out, we put on our airpacks and our masks to talk we must now shout. With axe in hand we enter therein the Devils home amidst the flame, we quickly search for everyone boy, girl, man and dame. The air is hot we can feel it through the clothe armor that we wear, but on we search through the building till we realize we're low on air. Another crew goes in In their hands the hose To find the seat of the flames It's advancement to oppose We cut the roof we pull the ceiling Our hands and feet lose all feeling We find a child we cover them up We rush back to the door We bring them to safety and go back in To check and search for more For hours the cycle repeats Till all is said and done The fire is out, we've done our job This time we won No fire is left and all are safe We put our tools and hose away And go back to the station Where hopefully we'll get to stay Our gears been scrubbed Time to rest our exhausted bodies We wake at 8 am to bells ringing and sirens blare, we leap to our feet and go get dressed to fight deep in Hells lair...

52

To all of the nameless... faces in the crowd at an event your unity is endearing it's currency and time you have spent To all of the nameless... wanderers sleeping outside in the cold your fight to survive is empowering spirit the only thing that remains unsold To all of the nameless... users who've surpassed last call your denial is where the battle begins a war cry against substance and ethanol To all of the nameless... children who lack a daily feast your hunger no fault of your own basic human rights have been breached And to all of the nameless... believers giving life to cause your actions are restorative but we must hold off on applause When people are united & hunger and struggle still exist efforts must be given until the problems are fixed

0

Mar 25, 2017

Mar 25, 2017 at 11:16 AM UTC

samantha-lee2j

Nameless

To all of the nameless... faces in the crowd at an event your unity is endearing it's currency and time you have spent To all of the nameless... wanderers sleeping outside in the cold your fight to survive is empowering spirit the only thing that remains unsold To all of the nameless... users who've surpassed last call your denial is where the battle begins a war cry against substance and ethanol To all of the nameless... children who lack a daily feast your hunger no fault of your own basic human rights have been breached And to all of the nameless... believers giving life to cause your actions are restorative but we must hold off on applause When people are united & hunger and struggle still exist efforts must be given until the problems are fixed

24

can someone volunteer to help me set up another Hello Poetry account as I've not the know how in creating a second or possibly a third account so please feel free to jot any information down in the comment's section of this write then I'll be able to start penning under an additional name on the Hello Poetry site

0

Mar 12, 2017

Mar 12, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Another Account

can someone volunteer to help me set up another Hello Poetry account as I've not the know how in creating a second or possibly a third account so please feel free to jot any information down in the comment's section of this write then I'll be able to start penning under an additional name on the Hello Poetry site

8

tears in my eyes, my version blur, my heart pounds, my body shivers, push myself to the edge, for them, I must.... many thoughts in their mind, innocent faces, can not hide, I see... one and only thing left in my mind for them, I must.... (c) Ko Win Khine aka. D Hlaine (May 25th, 2011. NYC)

0

Mar 14, 2016

Mar 14, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC

win-khine

for them

tears in my eyes, my version blur, my heart pounds, my body shivers, push myself to the edge, for them, I must.... many thoughts in their mind, innocent faces, can not hide, I see... one and only thing left in my mind for them, I must.... (c) Ko Win Khine aka. D Hlaine (May 25th, 2011. NYC)

11