I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...
If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding
A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...
It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!
It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!
It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!
It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs
to walk away.
But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.
Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.
Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.
It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.
So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
more like MEN!!!
and I cant help that
I'm a hardback book bound tight-
Always on the rewrite
every word placed right
because it's so important;
that you read me right;
that you see things right;
undress your mind for me
under the right light
I don't want tears tonight
if I tell you it's not serious
or when I make you work or wait
it's obviously worth the work
and even more than worth your wait.
I don't like games
I play it straight;
you're either with it
or you ain't.
So if you do not like the blurb
don't bother reading my first page.
something other than love poetry for the lady in the back please
Confused and misguided I found myself in the bookstore,
Looking for myself in the writing of poets,
Where pain and love met, I yearned for more
Found myself in disguise, broken, feeling time fly
Broken and insecure, I found myself in the bookstore.
Reading about my past lovers, was I not strong enough for the storm?
Loved a man who failed to explore,
The woman inside me begging for more
Lost but committed, I found myself in the bookstore.
Reminiscing on our ****, was I a bore?
Picking up a book filled with promises,
Will I ever get what love has in store?
Running towards ****, I ended up broken in the bookstore.
You left me broken but wanting more
Addicted to your soul, I failed to remember..
That I met you at the bookstore
-Henessy J. Beltre
bookstores and libraries bring a great level of tranquility.
(© Henessy J. Beltre 10.10.2018)
...are a study on a subject matter
that someone else has undertaken
on your behalf.
i have so many tabs in the books i read
they are color coded and when you flip open the book
i usually have some sort of comment there
these comments range from witty to cynical to dark to brutally honest
either with myself
or a general statement about the world
no matter what it says
whether silly or serious
those comments are my secrets
the tabbed off sections of my mind that i keep for only myself
the bruises i keep concealed
the words i’m too afraid to speak out loud
secrets between myself
and my future self
who will one day read those tabs
and think back to the reasons they were left
think about all the obstacles i had overcome
and all words i had once related to
my truest self lies within
the margins of books
and color coordinated tabs
that no one knows the meaning of
i am terrified of someone reading those sections
someone picking up any one of my books
and knowing how i really feel on the inside
it would be as if someone had stripped me of my clothes
and left me for judgement
i’ll be able to let someone open my books
to let them observe my truest self
and i hope that person is willing
to show me
their tabs too
Oh, you were a book that I’ve only ever heard of.
Never once have I been able to read you
But when I did get a chance
I studied your cover and fell in love with your spine.
But I chose to put you back instead of buy you.
I did love you though.
October 15, 2018
Aren't books just fun to read ?
To find out " Where does this story lead?"
They are nice to read in bed, let you quickly fall asleep
And then you can enjoy slumbering very deep
Unless you read something which messes with your mind
Then you probably stay up through the night and weep
Just try not to make it bind (you)
Books are an adventure for your brain
Can distract you from all that aweful rain
So read more its good for you
Maybe they even help you though (tougher times)
So please my dear give it a go
With the right genre you'll like it, I know
We can do it together,
Under the beautiful light of the moon
Until the night finds its end soon
you dance off
the page to
She explored worlds only known
To those who had patience and perseverance
A world without visuals yet gave sight
To those willing to create it
A world filled with diverse people
Who all shared the same voice
A world so loud in words
Without making a single noise
She had many worlds she could explore
Too many for her to decide
Each new world lined up on the shelf
Aligned with past adventures to remind
Neatly coating the floor in thin white trails, woven into floorboards like cotton twine, sunbeams snake their way across hardwood.
Books scream to be read & my yellowed pages ache to detail my experience as a widowed reader of time.
Magazines pile, while my simple hands grow a day older.
Heat on my neck.
The driver of time exhales grandiose,
tells me to travel while I'm young,
visit regions on this globe that grow green with age,
listen to honest trumpets before I gray,
wade in pools of clear urgency.
"Find a walking stick out beyond the ether
laugh with veracity, poking fun at Saturn & the Stars."
What will the future hold? Only Time will tell.
trees are changing their robes;
on misty mornings
I am sitting on my porch.
I've found in a vintage bookstore
at the corner of my street
is lying in my lap
drinking a tea
wrapped into my favorite blanket
and watching my neighbors
carving their pumpkins
smelling the scent
while also listening to
autumn, oh autumn
where have you been?
I will learn a love.
The kind of love?
It binds you to I,
Like the pages bound,
To a hardcover spine.
I’m on my way to find my soul,
With it I believe I will be whole.
Page after page I devoured some books.
Why, I wonder, do I get sour looks?
I only speak what's on my mind,
People say that it isn't kind.
But tell me just why I should lie,
What is there to fear when I'm about to die?
Pain and sorrow never do last
Neither do the actions in our past,
Happiness too flies away,
Is there something here to stay?
My existence is all I feel,
Then just why should I believe
In this world of changing lights?
Things come and go; Are they alive?
Soon, I hope the day will come
Where I will decide on what should become
Of this life that led me here
To this moment of utter fear.
I disappear or do I stay?
In this life tell me, I pray.
This was the first poem I published online, though the website now doesn't work anymore.