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Why am I so dif-fer-ent?
They say I’m out of touch.
Why am I, ple-nar-ily sad?
This life it hurts so much.
And why do they come, come every day?
Shush, quiet now, they’re here.
Those awful tormentors of my soul all cackling and queer!
Whirling head of spinning revolutions,
…feel my stomach ache and pang.
Why will they not leave me alone?
This crew of darkness; Blackbird Gang.

I shouldn’t always feel like this, feel such solemn pain,
…troubling and trouble is these birds are driving me insane!
I’m screaming now! I’m mad with rage! Throwing ice cubes at my deck,
“Go away! Yes, go away!” -their numbers must be kept in check.
Blackhole-whirl, flying twirling darkness, their funnel it points to me-e-e-e-!
For too many is too painful and my mind’s a constant wreck!
One cannot think with those infernal be-e-e-asts,
...and the crazy song they sang.
Why do they so punish me?
The crew of darkness; Blackbird Gang.

I know they serve the Saturn’s wheel and now they’ve come for me.
What did I do? Oh what great sin, oh the blackbirds from within;

The Abyssimal Sea?

Their whirlpool funnel is all around, as my harried soul, it expiates.
I’m done-in; I’m over now, a sorely victim of the Fates!
They took me, took me away, when the tolling bell it rang.
Why could they not leave me alone?
The crew of darkness; Blackbird Gang.

If you find yourself all alone and mired in their thought,
…do not think, extirpate, all the human damage that you’ve wrought.
His flock of fledgling melancholy musical formation,
…will take you away and straight to Hell; the Seventh Circle congregation!
For they took me, took me away, when the tolling bell it rang.
And they will not leave you alone.
This crew of darkness; Blackbird Gang.
The primary reason I came to Hello Poetry is that every single publishing house I could find on the internet rejected every poem I sent them. Since my work is deemed to be worth nothing I gave it all to you for free. It seems that in a digital world where people can share this easily there will always be more content available for free than for a fee. One would think publishers would know this. I have seen some seriously good poetry here and some pieces that are extraordinary.
In death's dream kingdom
           These do not appear:



                     I

They're handing out maroon balloons
And saying they are free
But grasping children grip them fast
And the monks amidst them disagree
Dispassionately, but en masse
While they liberate the children
With obliterating oms.

A nearby Byron expiates
And mildly reiterates
The soporific broken ode
He bellows over holy oms
To the smitten women who approach
That "a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose"
Dispensing with disinterest
Crimson bliss amidst the women
Who ignore the sinful image he bestows.

He hands them out like red balloons
To grasping girls all afternoon
Imploring them to trust their nose
Insisting they are free
And so continues to propose
To the smitten women in the street
That "a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose"
As if the word could smell as sweet
As the perennials he grows.

And in the corner – Romeo
Who greenly mourning understands
The worth of poison in his hands
Imagining a life of night
Where roses wither without light
And only stars through windows break
Through all the countless nights of fate
and every breath's an endless wake...

Meanwhile Byron's distant yells
Prevail over the choral swell
And plant a seed in grasping ears:
Salvation can be engineered!
Which Romeo soon understands
As kissing death, he takes her hand
Thoughts germinating into schemes
If a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose
...then a dream is a dream is a dream.


                     II

A griffin, a hippogriff, and a wyvern
Admitting me and
Gripping crimson
Dripping strings
So none of them will fly away.

Inside, Cain is killing Abel  
(How few! yet how they creep)
killing Abel
(Through my fingers to the deep)
killing Abel
(While I weep — while I weep!)
killing Abel.
(O God! Can I not grasp)
It is the first story:
(Them with a tighter clasp?)
A samsara of carnage and drama.

Somewhere above
On a city street
Desire's handing out balloons
He clips their thorns
And trims them neat
He says they're free
And just as sweet
As the women he impugnes
He belies his guidance on repeat:
That love is the light is the sun is the moon.

A widower laments and moves the world
That has such people in it:
A snake, a guard, a god, a dog
A wife by no other name
A faltering of faith, a peek
A pillar of salt, a severed head
Adrift on a river
Singing:

I'd transcend five hundred miles
And I'd transcend five hundred more
Just to be the man who transcends trials
Sprawled out on your floor

(Thy drugs are quick.)
Searching for a souvenir
To prove to you our world was here


Isaac, bound, blank and free
Bleating, looking for meaning
(All that we see or seem)
In his father's violent eye,
And finding it.
(Thus with a kiss I die.)
Abraham swings his knife.
A son is a sin is a ram is a rose.

A man pushes the sun up a large hill
(LET THERE BE LIGHT)
Every day, and then it rolls down again
And then an eagle eats his liver.
(I am the resurrection and the life.)
One must imagine Prometheus happy
The alternative is dark

The moon, by any other name, would—
But do not swear by the moon!
For she changes constantly
(Then said Jesus unto them plainly:
Lazarus is dead.)

Everything changes
But nothing is truly lost.

(at times
the fact of her absence
will hit you like a blow to the chest
and you will weep.
but this will happen less and less
as time goes on.
she is dead.
you are alive.
so live.
)

A man pushes the sun up a large hill
A day is a year is a life is a death.

One must imagine Orpheus happy.


                     III

In dreams, the sun resumes her loving glow
I'm reunited with my silhouette
I glue myself with soap to my shadow
And find myself beside my Juliet

No longer a balloon without a hand
I'm rooted to the earth where she grips me
With purpose guiding us through life's demands
I push my boulders uphill happily

I build a world with Juliet my wife
Where roses are all roses and smell sweet
We live a loving happy magic life
Together til our journey is complete.

[Enter, at the other end of the churchyard,
FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and *****.
]

In union Eve and Adam are redeemed,
Not in a rose but in a living dream.
Can a rose be just a rose?
Ubuntu says that a person cannot be just a person.
Romeo grieves for the light of his sun, Juliet,
and chooses to live a life with her in a dream
as the poison kills him.
ATILA Nov 2018
DAY 1
I read about a very long list of phobias, these are the examples;

● astratophobia = fear of thunder and lightning
● paraskavedekatriaphobia = fear of Friday the 13th
● cacophobia = fear of ugliness ><
● ligyrophobia = fear of loud noises
● onomatophobia = fear of hearing a certain word or name
● peladophobia = fear of bald people
● hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia =fear of long words :D

Eventually I discover that all of us have phobia of this one; HADEPHOBIA. Fear of Hell.


DAY 2
"Make your foot rare at the house or your fellowman,
that he may not have his sufficency of you."
[Proverb 25:17]


DAY 3
A genuine smile is the most attractive thing you can wear,
it is absolutely universal and rarely could not bear.


DAY 4
We verily created man and We know what his soul whispereth to him,
and We are nearer to him than his jugular vein.
[Quran 50 : 16]


DAY 5
Man, whose past is a clot - a clinged drop something related to *****, whose abdomen at present is filled with what he excretes and whose future is to become the rotting dead body of grave.

How flawed are us.


DAY 6
"I call a man who understands the suffering of others as a religious man."
- Mahatma Gandhi


DAY 7
Aisha said, "I brought some soup which I had cooked, and told Sawdah (the 2nd wife of Prophet Muhammad PBUH), with the Prophet sitting between her and me. 'Have some!' but she declined. I said: 'You either eat or I smear your face.' She would not eat, so I took some soup from the bowl and smeared her face. Allah's Messenger laughed and lifted his feet off the floor. He said to Sawdah: 'Smear her face!' So she took some from the bowl and smeared my face, and Allah's Messenger kept laughing."


DAY 8
Human imperfection is not here to scare us,
it is here to bring out the best of us.
so that we can be like a severely bent tree that continues to produce good fruits despite of its incovenient position or angle from the ground.


DAY 9
Noah is referred to as the 2nd Adam since mankind started afresh from his time, after the deluge and complete destruction of mankind. Therefore, a 2nd part or phase in the mankind history started from him.


DAY 10
Powerful telescopes enable this civilization to see far into the space,
but sometimes due to the 'blindness' in its right eye, it fails to see the Creator's hand in it.


DAY 11
“A new command I give you: Love one another.
As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
[John 13 : 34-35]


DAY 12
A knowledgeable person is he who is never satisfied with what he has learnt and also adds the learning of other people to his knowledge.
- A hadith qudsi


DAY 13
Be as gentle as the whispering breeze
Spread solace to the world we’re in
Let your heart and soul be a mirror clear

Yet when you master all of this
Forget not your neediness
Were it not from God’s grace
None of this can be achieved!


DAY 14
"Have they not reflected within themselves?
Allah did not create the Heavens and the earth and everything between them except the truth and for a fixed term.
Yet many people reject the meeting with their Lord."
[Ar-***, 30:8)


DAY 15
One of internet culture is keep searching for a prey to harass or bash. And there is this saying, "Give a man a mask and he will show his true face.” Just because you can hide your identity online, it doesn't mean you can harass and bash other people freely. Be mindful. Be kind.


DAY 16
"And when My servants ask you (O Muhammad), concerning Me – indeed I am near.
I respond to the invocation of the supplicant when he calls upon Me.
So let them respond to Me (by obedience) and believe in Me that they may be (rightly) guided.”
[Al-Baqarah, 2:186]


DAY 17
Prophet PBUH said: "No calamity befalls a Muslim but that Allah expiates some of his sins because of it, even though it were the ***** he receives from a thorn."
[Narrated by Bukhari]


DAY 18
The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
[Psalm 9 : 9]


DAY 19
Even when life is frail
God's love prevails
It never fails.

Jonah's life was frail when he was in the whale, but God's prevailed, it did not fail.


DAY 20
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
[Psalm 46 : 1]


DAY 21
"There are times when I want to die so badly, I think the need itself will **** me. Of course, it never does. I always dream of better places, how anime life and 2D things are so much better than real life, where I could actually become something and be something other than stupid me. I have made so many stupid decisions. I can't keep a secret about myself, because I am so stupid and naive and stupid and dishonest. I'm useless and an idiot and a ******* and I can't do anything right, I can't make right decisions, I can't even **** myself. It's impossible. But I still want to die."
- a diary of a depressed girl


DAY 22
● "He is the only one without a second." [Chandagya Upanishad 6, 2:1]

● "Of Him there are neither parents nor Lord." [Svetasvatara Upanishad 6, 9]

● "There is no like Him." [Svetasvatara Upanishad, 4:19]

● "There is no likeness of Him whose name is a great glory." [The Principle Upanishad by S. Radhakrishnan]


DAY 23
● "Hear O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord." [Deutronomy 6:4]

● "I, even I, am the Lord; and beside Me there is no savior." [Isaiah 45:5]

● "I am God, and there is no one else; I am God, there is none like me." [Isaiah 46:9]


DAY 24
“You shall have no other Gods before me.
You shall not make for yourself a carved image,
or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above,
or that is in the earth beneath,
or that is in the water under the earth.
You shall not bow down to them or serve them,
for I the Lord your God am a jealous God."
[Exodus 20: 3-5]


DAY 25
According to biological law, our body cells ought to renew themselves indefinitely thereby leaving us; human, not knowing old age or aging or death at all! So biologically speaking, we could be always young, agile, dynamic, vigorous and absolutely defect-free in our immune system. But hey, imperfection is here."


DAY 26
“To all those suffering from sadness or depression, know that it isn’t your fault. It isn’t because you’re weak. It isn’t because you’re just not grateful enough. It isn’t because you’re just not religious enough. It isn’t because you don’t have enough faith. It isn’t because God is angry with you. To all the well-meaning people who tell you this, just smile. And know deep in your heart that the tests of God come in different forms to different people. And know that, by the help of God, every test can become a tool to get closer to Him. And that, verily, with hardship come ease–and like all things of this world–this too shall pass.”
- Yasmin Mogahed


DAY 27
We may not see the literal or initial being of God, but we can eventually see His display of power or evidence of His being or presence in what becomes or results manifest to us, be it in creation or in our very own existance or make up.


DAY 28
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
[Psalm 147 : 3]


DAY 29
After all, our innermost thoughts and feelings affect what we talk about and even how we look.

_______________
Hi! This may not a poem :') During the last Ramadhan (about five months ago), I had set in mind to read lots of books to cheerish this holy month with at least, a good deed. So, this is a compilation of what was I reading from the 1ST day until the last day of Ramadhan. Enjoy!
Nat Lipstadt May 25
in my private conversations, so many
emiploy this phrase, arms on chest folded,
a whispery plaint, and I too am folded into
too pieces, as well, my understanding fulsome,
for the struggling is well familiar, I under stand
beneath you, arms upraised, holding your shaking,
throbbing, wistful hearty sighs, constant tumbling,
floor~falling, see rose petals of sighs, all quiet screams,
and
my weak remedy is urging you to express
with the skill, known in you possess, to give
it forth, give it out and let us love your burdens
shared, and thus the be the firmament of our ties…

selfishly, I plead that you stun us with the
insight inside, hopeless hoping you surrender
and share in the only way I know that expiates some,
the grief, some of pained shame, and for a momentary
gasping, allows us grasping you, through you poetry,
the value you can bring forth to others humanity,
helping us to make us a better~both, with written creating
sums far, far greater than the to~us whole…
nml

7:45AM
Sabbath
May 25
2024

Silver Beach, Shelter Island
For Garcia




Ah, Harlem, Harlem, Harlem
Washington is Algeria before rebellion
F. Garcia Lorca, Indians, Indians
Ghetto walls still suffocate mothers’ mouths
This city cries
Wakes punching
Wastes then expiates
Hammered by the furnace of the sun
Lorca, Lorca
The madman is still breathing
Fred’ eyes bleed
His bed burns crimson
Wraith and werewolf sit
**** false justice
Garcia, Garcia
We need you
We need you with a gun
A gun, Garcia, a gun
Or (and this for your ears only)
Harlem, Harlem, America
Wash the blood from your
Babes blind eyes.





T. H. Donahue
6/25/71
Edited 2/8/2015
showyoulove Nov 21
Enter In

Stand now before the heavenly gates
Made clean by the blood which expiates
Come now before the resplendent throne
Lift your voice in praise with trumpets blown
And here bowing down in adoration
Come one come all and enter in

Open my heart open my mind and soul
Help me to focus on the final goal
To be as one in spirit and in flesh
With Christ the Lord whom I so bless
That I may learn and grow and be taught
And reflect Him in action and thought

Come to love Him who loves so deeply
Know the one who knows you so completely
Lose yourself in the sea of total surrender
Find healing in the arms strong and tender

S e  e  s-t-a-bil-i-ty           becomes the center
                                  When
                                     HE

                   ——————————
The doors |                               | are open wide
                    |                               |
                    |                               |
                    |                               |

                               So just
                              
                               ENTER
                                   IN

And when you do:

STOP
for a moment
.
.
.
.

Inhale deeply and fully the subtle scent
Of change in you on the smallest scale
And in your bones know that love will not fail
Should the earth crumble and sun lose it’s fire
His burning love for you shall not expire

Dare to enter in more deeply today
Open yourself more freely

and be
        
              s  
                     w    
                              e      
                                        p      
                                                    t

                                                               away
Best looked at from landscape mode.
Victor D López Jan 2020
Coding will set you free,
Repair, rework, renew, reinvent ruinous reality,
Into a multiverse where reason reigns and creativity flourishes.

Excise the tired, mundane, mind-numbing predictability of the real,
Transform it into a rebooted reality that erases every flaw,
Expiates original sin and finally frees humanity from its anchor to clay.

Soar on the winds of possibility to heights undreamed of,
With wings not of feathers and wax impervious to the sun,
Then cut the cord of existence and live forever in a perfect world.
TJ Struska May 2020
Tracing the hour,
The distance I follow,
Wands and Auroras,
These echoing phrases,
These expiates of shadow.
Angels and Sailors of far of seas,
Ghosts ships of carrion,
This unknowledgeable surrender,
This last ember,
A blazing Supernova.
This rung down the ladder,
Barkok and Liszt,
Stickball in high summer,
Unraveling spector
Of chariots and Pharaohs,
Matresses of mourning,
Days of black shoes,
Pairs that tread the same dirt road.
Venturing clouds,
These invisible evenings,
A burned mound of wheels,
Converging signals
Alinged to one.
Horses braying a symphony of dust.
The end and the beginning Never touching the middle,
Straddling curve space time,
A stratosphere of clouds.
Cobweb hung planets,
Their rings revolving
The shining simmer
In the final arc of sun.
Just outside Nebraska,
Down Highway 1A,
Charles Starkweather Haunts
Gretchen lost ghost.
The dark specter residing
In old Elmer's cornfield,
It moans and shudders
The grave hours passing
Like strands on a string.
Bombardiers blasting
The last metal gun tower,
As Churchill railed the invading Blitzkrieg,
Sending out the Valiant
To apocalypse the hour.
Long rainy seasons,
The trees weeping
The last wilting flower's lonely despair..
The rim of the hour
Dialing shadows dreary filing
Down corridors of clocks,
A Canticle of stars, the dark night revolving,
One billion Angels sing to the light.
This was a profound poem for me.
Lately I feel that I only write to myself on this website. Why, doesn't anyone read these beautiful poems anymore😞

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