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Ye learnèd sisters, which have oftentimes
Beene to me ayding, others to adorne,
Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes,
That even the greatest did not greatly scorne
To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes,
But joyèd in theyr praise;
And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne,
Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse,
Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne,
And teach the woods and waters to lament
Your dolefull dreriment:
Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside;
And, having all your heads with girlands crownd,
Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound;
Ne let the same of any be envide:
So Orpheus did for his owne bride!
So I unto my selfe alone will sing;
The woods shall to me answer, and my Eccho ring.

Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe
His golden beame upon the hils doth spred,
Having disperst the nights unchearefull dampe,
Doe ye awake; and, with fresh *****-hed,
Go to the bowre of my belovèd love,
My truest turtle dove;
Bid her awake; for ***** is awake,
And long since ready forth his maske to move,
With his bright Tead that flames with many a flake,
And many a bachelor to waite on him,
In theyr fresh garments trim.
Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight,
For lo! the wishèd day is come at last,
That shall, for all the paynes and sorrowes past,
Pay to her usury of long delight:
And, whylest she doth her dight,
Doe ye to her of joy and solace sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene,
And of the sea that neighbours to her neare:
Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
And let them also with them bring in hand
Another gay girland
For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses,
Bound truelove wize, with a blew silke riband.
And let them make great store of bridale poses,
And let them eeke bring store of other flowers,
To deck the bridale bowers.
And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread,
For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong,
Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along,
And diapred lyke the discolored mead.
Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt,
For she will waken strayt;
The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing,
The woods shall to you answer, and your Eccho ring.

Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed
The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well,
And greedy pikes which use therein to feed;
(Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell;)
And ye likewise, which keepe the rushy lake,
Where none doo fishes take;
Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light,
And in his waters, which your mirror make,
Behold your faces as the christall bright,
That when you come whereas my love doth lie,
No blemish she may spie.
And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keepe the deere,
That on the hoary mountayne used to towre;
And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure,
With your steele darts doo chace from comming neer;
Be also present heere,
To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time;
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme;
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies
And carroll of Loves praise.
The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft;
The Thrush replyes; the Mavis descant playes;
The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this dayes merriment.
Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long?
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T’ awayt the comming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds love-learnèd song,
The deawy leaves among!
Nor they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

My love is now awake out of her dreames,
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmèd were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight:
But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot
In Joves sweet paradice of Day and Night;
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al, that ever in this world is fayre,
Doe make and still repayre:
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
And, as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene;
And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing,
The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring.

Now is my love all ready forth to come:
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt:
And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome,
Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good aray,
Fit for so joyfull day:
The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
Faire Sun! shew forth thy favourable ray,
And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.
O fayrest Phoebus! father of the Muse!
If ever I did honour thee aright,
Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse;
But let this day, let this one day, be myne;
Let all the rest be thine.
Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Harke! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But, most of all, the Damzels doe delite
When they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe ravish quite;
The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confusèd noyce,
As if it were one voyce,
*****, iö *****, *****, they do shout;
That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance, doe thereto applaud,
And loud advaunce her laud;
And evermore they *****, ***** sing,
That al the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Loe! where she comes along with portly pace,
Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a ****** best.
So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.
Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,
Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene,
Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre;
And, being crownèd with a girland greene,
Seeme lyke some mayden Queene.
Her modest eyes, abashèd to behold
So many gazers as on her do stare,
Upon the lowly ground affixèd are;
Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,
So farre from being proud.
Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see
So fayre a creature in your towne before;
So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store?
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yvory white,
Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte,
Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded,
Her paps lyke lyllies budded,
Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre;
And all her body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending up, with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze,
Upon her so to gaze,
Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,
To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring?

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonisht lyke to those which red
Medusaes mazeful hed.
There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity,
Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood,
Regard of honour, and mild modesty;
There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne,
And giveth lawes alone,
The which the base affections doe obay,
And yeeld theyr services unto her will;
Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seene these her celestial threasures,
And unrevealèd pleasures,
Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing,
That al the woods should answer, and your echo ring.

Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the postes adorne as doth behove,
And all the pillours deck with girlands trim,
For to receyve this Saynt with honour dew,
That commeth in to you.
With trembling steps, and humble reverence,
She commeth in, before th’ Almighties view;
Of her ye virgins learne obedience,
When so ye come into those holy places,
To humble your proud faces:
Bring her up to th’ high altar, that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endlesse matrimony make;
And let the roring Organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes;
The whiles, with hollow throates,
The Choristers the joyous Antheme sing,
That al the woods may answere, and their eccho ring.

Behold, whiles she before the altar stands,
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes,
And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
How the red roses flush up in her cheekes,
And the pure snow, with goodly vermill stayne
Like crimsin dyde in grayne:
That even th’ Angels, which continually
About the sacred Altare doe remaine,
Forget their service and about her fly,
Ofte peeping in her face, that seems more fayre,
The more they on it stare.
But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground,
Are governèd with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry,
Which may let in a little thought unsownd.
Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand,
The pledge of all our band!
Sing, ye sweet Angels, Alleluya sing,
That all the woods may answere, and your eccho ring.

Now al is done: bring home the bride againe;
Bring home the triumph of our victory:
Bring home with you the glory of her gaine;
With joyance bring her and with jollity.
Never had man more joyfull day then this,
Whom heaven would heape with blis,
Make feast therefore now all this live-long day;
This day for ever to me holy is.
Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,
Poure not by cups, but by the belly full,
Poure out to all that wull,
And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall,
And ***** also crowne with wreathes of vine;
And let the Graces daunce unto the rest,
For they can doo it best:
The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing,
To which the woods shall answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne,
And leave your wonted labors for this day:
This day is holy; doe ye write it downe,
That ye for ever it remember may.
This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight,
With Barnaby the bright,
From whence declining daily by degrees,
He somewhat loseth of his heat and light,
When once the Crab behind his back he sees.
But for this time it ill ordainèd was,
To chose the longest day in all the yeare,
And shortest night, when longest fitter weare:
Yet never day so long, but late would passe.
Ring ye the bels, to make it weare away,
And bonefiers make all day;
And daunce about them, and about them sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end,
And lende me leave to come unto my love?
How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend?
How slowly does sad Time his feathers move?
Hast thee, O fayrest Planet, to thy home,
Within the Westerne fome:
Thy tyrèd steedes long since have need of rest.
Long though it be, at last I see it gloome,
And the bright evening-star with golden creast
Appeare out of the East.
Fayre childe of beauty! glorious lampe of love!
That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead,
And guydest lovers through the nights sad dread,
How chearefully thou lookest from above,
And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light,
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many, which for joy doe sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring!

Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past;
Enough it is that all the day was youres:
Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast,
Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures.
The night is come, now soon her disaray,
And in her bed her lay;
Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And silken courteins over her display,
And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my faire love does ly,
In proud humility!
Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras,
Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was,
With bathing in the Acidalian brooke.
Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon,
And leave my love alone,
And leave likewise your former lay to sing:
The woods no more shall answere, nor your echo ring.

Now welcome, night! thou night so long expected,
That long daies labour doest at last defray,
And all my cares, which cruell Love collected,
Hast sumd in one, and cancellèd for aye:
Spread thy broad wing over my love and me,
That no man may us see;
And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,
From feare of perrill and foule horror free.
Let no false treason seeke us to entrap,
Nor any dread disquiet once annoy
The safety of our joy;
But let the night be calme, and quietsome,
Without tempestuous storms or sad afray:
Lyke as when Jove with fayre Alcmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groome:
Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie
And begot Majesty.
And let the mayds and yong men cease to sing;
Ne let the woods them answer nor theyr eccho ring.

Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares,
Be heard all night within, nor yet without:
Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares,
Breake gentle sleepe with misconceivèd dout.
Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadfull sights,
Make sudden sad affrights;
Ne let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes,
Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights,
Ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes,
Ne let hob Goblins, names whose sence we see not,
Fray us with things that be not:
Let not the shriech Oule nor the Storke be heard,
Nor the night Raven, that still deadly yels;
Nor damnèd ghosts, cald up with mighty spels,
Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard:
Ne let th’ unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking
Make us to wish theyr choking.
Let none of these theyr drery accents sing;
Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe,
That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne,
And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe,
May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne;
The whiles an hundred little wingèd loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,
Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret darke, that none reproves,
Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares shal spread
To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceald through covert night.
Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will!
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.
All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:
Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing;
Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring.

Who is the same, which at my window peepes?
Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright?
Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes,
But walkes about high heaven al the night?
O! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy
My love with me to spy:
For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought,
And for a fleece of wooll, which privily
The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought.
Therefore to us be favorable now;
And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,
And generation goodly dost enlarge,
Encline thy will t’effect our wishfull vow,
And the chast wombe informe with timely seed
That may our comfort breed:
Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing;
Ne let the woods us answere, nor our Eccho ring.

And thou, great Juno! which with awful might
The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize;
And the religion of the faith first plight
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize;
And eeke for comfort often callèd art
Of women in their smart;
Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessings unto us impart.
And thou, glad
Lorraine Cinco Jun 2015
I stole two of your clothes and wore it everytime I miss you.
You owned me without you knowing.
I followed your fooststeps to your way home on a rocky road.
Your shadow was the closest thing to me.
And I was happy with that. I like it that way.
I like it when you sway your arms, as if it will reach me.
I waited for you to look back at the girl who have been with you all the time.
No words. Silent. Hopefull.
Prayful that one day when you wake up, I am all you need.
Jimmy Karnidge May 2013
It's hard to stay hopeful
Hopefull hope full
Hope
The adamant, stubborn desire for something better
Or something more

And being full of it can leave you
Full of ****
Who are you kidding?
What a joke it must be
To maintain hope when staring down shame
And dismay

But you have to remain hopeful
Get a fresh glass of the ambrosia
And fill up on hope
So much hope that your ****
is saturated in dreams
And turn that frown upside down
Hop in that boat of dreams
And sail into the sun
Sail into the future

Build a mast out of happy
And a sail out of positivity
And oars to be fashioned from the finest
Apple tree
And float on with the hot gail
Maybe you'll find that distant shore
Where hope grows on trees
And the smallest fruit fills your dreams
Mary Stanworth Sep 2012
Feeling a little lost
Don’t know what direction to take
Should be striding forward
Without a care in the world
But the mayhem of life
Is sticking to my shoes
And only tiny steps I can take.

Feeling a little lost
Don’t know where this road taking me
So many forks in this road of mine
Decisions to many, should go with the flow
But life is what you make it
Kicking the mud off my shoes
Strides are what I will take
Feeling lost but a little hopeful....
lina S Jan 2014
3:15 AM
And I'm searching for meaning
I'm ******* searching for meaning
Drained exhausted
But I still got 'bout 3 more chapters to study
And I don't want to study
Cause I'm searching for meaning
It would be easier if this meant more for me
I secretly wish I didn't have these blessings
Cause I'm searching for meaning
I'm not convinced ..
How lame is that
I'm not convinced .
I hate that girl in the movie that keeps falling
The emotionally ****** up
Keeps ******* up
Wants attention
Wants help
dependant
She keeps falling
And I keep falling
I hope I'm not that character
want to be the badass that grew cold and strong
But it seems like I'm growing weak
The future is soo bleak
It's like I'm playing hide and seek with myself
I keep disappearing on myself
Like where did I go
I used to be so strong
So hopefull
My horoscope says im the most optimistic sign    
They must be lyin'
Cause you know that feeling
When you just wanna stay sad
You don't want to get over it cause it's hurting you that bad
Now where's the optimisim in that ?    
Feels like I'm a crumbling soul    0
I've grown so bitter and so old
I'm creating drama
That's what my mom says
My sign says I hate drama
Lol
They must've mistaken my birth date
Let's just hope tomorrow I find me again
Cause I'm starting to enjoy the pain
and I don't even seem to be good at writing poems anymore
Must be goin insane ..
Dj Jan 2018
He's always been just this boy; watching the world, threw bright green hopefull eyes... He's always been just this boy; witnessing heartbreak and tragedy, threwout deceitful lies.... He's always been just this boy; struggling to make deep, meaningful human ties... He's always been just this boy; But one day he woke up and realized, He's always had what he needed. To sucessfully and happily, live and die....
Geno Cattouse Sep 2013
You stop to start my dear heart.
                                                 Whispers of cannot be invade your ears.
The night is cool and sullen. Your crystal ball swirling.musical chairs. Winding stairs with no answers.

The ceiling mocks your hopefull stares
Your pillow caresses as passion fruit swirls like crimson clouds.
Mocks aloud.

Easy to be hard.hard to be easy.

Rusted splatter lingers echoing past injustice.with scars stretched taut.

Sullen is the night.

                                                We ask the question.the answer stands akimbo. Glaring. Defiant to the senses.
Beginning's end ushers end's beginning.

Who is to blame?
The moth or the flame.           Truth is farce. A tepid liar.

Rules are amourphous. Real or tristy.
So. We ask.again.again.

Who is to blame?       Careless moth?
                                  Mercilesss flame ? Who.is to blame.
You will not get to know me that way. . . I am truely sorry, but I have no games to play- I am an open book without a single ounce of shame. And I will not be another lessoned learned. I cannot take back my yesterdays or press stop to rewind- I cannot give you tomorrow it's just a lie we all use to get off- it's like unconditional... ya, it's just mostly made up.

So please just keep away from me. Your hopefull eyes make my stomach turn and my ******* head ache. You're just the random blanket I pulled from a forgotten closet shelf- You keep me warm for an hour at best.

Don't get mad as I shrug you off me, watching as you hit the floor. Did you think I'd fold you up nicely, put you back as you were?

Aww, its ok, really, dry your eyes... but not on me- not this time. We have all been there; we have all been that sad girl. Everyone gets a turn didnt you know? unfortunetly this time it's yours.
mark john junor May 2013
he seeks shelter from the rain
in the coffee shop
she offers him a cup of joe
she offers a moment to reflect

the hipsters and hangers about
fill her world with sight and sound
fill her senses with smiles and joy
but inside she know she needs something more
that this place is just an emblem
and cannot sustain a soul like her

she could have anything
she just need ask
but she cant find the words to describe
cant find an image to convey
her souls need

but its clear to him
its a ship sailing to distant spain
its a road leading out into a western desert
its a train rolling thru a dark stormy night to a northern town
its a footpath thru mist
its a man seeking shelter from the rain

he leaves with her smile
which she gave with a hopefull heart

now
wrestle with the shadows in his heart
but its her face that lingers
in the late hour
in this last time he will stand

the standards of the champions
the fighters for truth
the liars
and the ones too dark to do else but die
they gather in harsh light
and prepare to do battle and stand their ground

a prince of the beasts proud and fair
a champion to the ones who have no strength to call their own
the frame of time captures only the movement
but the fickle thought of who he is
prince of beasts proud and fair
champion of the clean linen uniform
regal bearer of the standard of a rising sun

reflected only in the young eyes
those cheering champions like him on from the side
but its only her smile that lingers for him
as his life flows spent onto the sand

she never did catch that train
never did escape that shop
never did grow beyond the borders
of the hipsters and hangers on
but least they loved her too
in their way
and that is some comfort
the girl, the coffee shop, the cup of coffee all happened...the rest was changed to incriminate the innocent

edit: the cup of coffee may have been a illusion. it has been redacted from reality
Nights move  like a forgotten  ghost unwanted by all.    
A vision  unseen to all but one.

Down damp streets he haunts the same path every night just befor the dawn.
The empty hearts gather to drown togther in the sea.

Togther feeling so very alone.
Can we cast shadows in the darkness project happiness in such gloom to return the   same old haunts again and again.
A wheel  rolling  without question.
On into the emptyness of my night.

Waitting for a return that  never will be.
Cursing the problem never understanding it was her and me.
As the dream turn to the drunk.

The painter paints no longer sunsets but
Nights and his thoughts of blue to gray.

Warmth in the darker corners gives a view to
the young and  the still hopefull.
Tiping my half empty glass I wish them to never know pain.

Finding a home with other empty hearts caught.
In ***** sheets im haunted by the ghost of my
former self.

A puddle stepped in cast waves of reflected neon light.
As we play a roll unknown to all  
At typewritter  I sit.
Listening to To the bar and bottles clatter men and women's
laughter and soon forgotten fight.
Yerning to be free so is the emptyness of my night.
MAYUR Dec 2014
Walk along, behind or ahead of some
Many walks behind,many to come
Waiting for the rainbow paved road
That will lead to a *** of gold
Over the edge, across divides
To undiscovered countrysides
Trailblazing through highs and lows
Valleys of mist and shadows
Go where winds of change blow
hopefull of better tomorrow's
Friends made on this rainbow road
What I learn is my *** of gold.
I imagined life to be a walk
A Dec 2018
When your chest is weighing you down,
shrinking you into fetal position,
then it's hard to miss being able to breath lighlty
because every inch of you are trying to resist
getting stuck on the ground

every inch of you are trying to fight those ghosts in your head
that the demanding och oppressing world around you summoned,
called upon,
without bothering telling how you would get rid of them
without even caring if you did
as long as they didn't have to carry it all by themselves

and how could you ever have kept track on yourself
when so many have pushed themselves upon you,
plunged into your heart, forcing them into your hopefull mind,
breaking down the childish, open mind that had survived so far
but not this.
Not this.

And the weight and darkness of everyone else
seeking shelter in your loving soul
took over
leaving no space for you
so how could your clear breath had survived?
How could anyones air not get polluted and trapped?
And how could you even miss the lightness of your breath
once you started to believe it was only a myth
because you hadn't felt it in so long,
you had just felt everyone else's writched breath

But through all this
you found that the ground wasn't quicksand
and yes, maybe your innocence never will fully recover
but you will find the ability to blindly believe again
to throw yourself out there, trusting the leap of yourself
trusting that everything will be solved
because hey,
against all odds,
you just made it through.
Geno Cattouse Jun 2013
I enjoyed watching our Tabby cat
Give the mouse hope turning to indifference.

Then pouncing to batter and play with the hopefull rodent.
Over and over until the end.

That was fun watcing that play out
Not Tom and Jerry by far.

A window to the feline nature.
Gave me a base respect for the
Canine in me.

Still head over heels over
***** though....call me crazy.
Ntwari Poetry Nov 2016
Who know what waits for us
Beyond this world we know to well
A world familiar sights and faces
That we will never see again

Who knows what is at the other end
Of our leap into the dark
Who knows what awaits
In the unfamiliar
In the unknown

Nightmares perhaps
Creatures crawling from the sketchiest corners of our sleep
Or maybe,
Hopefully,
A light of some kind

Who know?

I wonder
Falling to the tune of the unknown
Laughing as I'm ****** into to what seems to be my doom
The end of my world
And the birth of the next

Hopefull, the next will be a great one
I don't like this one. It doesn't feel right.
Corina Nov 2014
I'm always hoping to see it
small yet magnifient light
reaching my eyes from far away
filled with hopefull promises

I never know when it'll happen
I keep my eyes to the skies
hoping to see something green
A light with healing powers

It's allways a sign for me
Telling me you're close now
Reaching me from far away
And for a very little time

*we're together
sabrina Feb 2012
I don't really know why I just can't get over him.
he's been with me through thick and thin and I still call him my best friend
           The way he jokes and makes me laugh.
       I love to see him smile.I wish he would just hold me.
      If only a little while.
                We've had our ups and downs and yet he's still around.
  I know he has to for our son,but it just seems like he's not done.
It could be just hopefull thinkin, but someday...Well have to see,
If that boy I fell in love with will take another chance with me.
Ayussh Srivastav May 2016
From inside I may be crying,
But outside I will always be smiling,
No one notices,
But it's hard for me to controll

My physical wounds would heal
But my heart will never.
The night is yet to be over,
But my emotions are beaten,
And my brain has become more valuable,
It's.in general

Then comes the teaes, and i think how to change?,
As i cry for rage,
You say you understand,
And lend me a helping hand.
That may be true,
But first stand in my shoe.
You.will take a scoop of nothing but shame.

Strong and then weak,
Happy and then sad,
Sometimes feeling hopefull,
And always dreadinh the bad

I stand scared and uncertain,
And ask myself "where am I?"
It's dark in here
Don't know what to do.

Thoughts stomp in my mind,
Let me get out of here,
I try and try and try.
But the light goes further and further apart.

Every day, Every hour and Every momment
I live in shame
But then i close my eyes
See someone whose most important in my life,
And think "Life is full of problems,
I need to fight it to make it big"
For all those in depression
Dylan May 2012
We sell dreams at a cheap cost to the young, and the hopefull.
Handing them out, but allowing very few to actually achieve, and once you reach the real world, or the guerilla warfare plagued hallways of your local high-school...the dreamers suddenly turn into the outcasts.
The "foolish few", so to speak, but before you ever scoff at someone with a dream...think back to a time not long ago, when you were young, starry eyed, and ready to take on whatever this strange world threw at you, now ask yourself this...what happened?
Geno Cattouse Apr 2014
Whenever I can't write it feels like the bucket is sitting at the bottom of the well dredging for sludge..I pull the rope taught and up she comes with a hopefull thuddding sound.knowing full well I will harvest the dregs..Down she goes again.
Muddy thud.

Jules Verne shoots me to the moon as a sit silently in the desolate belly of spherical crater listening for truth or dare....but. just dead air .
Allania Berkey May 2014
I want to feel the summer time breeze as it sweeps through my hair,
The warmth of the sun that makes my skin smile,
The way the sky looks in it's prime time of happiness,
The way the wind blows as I ride my bike,
The time when the beach is filled with hopefull smiles, dreams, and good vibes,
The perfect nights filled with smoke, music and conversations from the bonfire built by friends,
The way the stars make me think as they shine in the dark,
The endless nights filled with laughs, love, and memories..
The times when where young, free, and wild,
The mornings that we regret, from one to many beers.
The gold bronze color my skin turns after a day by the pool,
The glass of wine I enjoy, with good company,
The summer I'll remember, as I leave the nest.
Kateri glover Jun 2018
Every day I wake up
I look at the ceiling
My soul goes back to sleep
Every moment I get up
My body is filled with sadness
Hopefull wishes that don’t exist
Black cloud that don’t belong here
Trying to be perfect for the wrong people
Saying to myself every day “I’m not myself.”
Waking up to a smile on my face
But in reality, I really want to cry
I don’t want you to understand
Only I can determine that
Dark black hole that
I keep falling in and I can’t get out
Please god help me
The more you say
The more I cry inside
Some People"s Destiny
,lets them find their dreams-
Some People"s destiny,
never let it be.
Some people find their way
some people looses it,
Some People find a Love-
Some never do.
BUT:
As soon as my Soul stops breaking hopefull waiting,
as Soon as Forever is through,
I will find it too.
Paul Donnell Oct 2017
If trees could talk theyd tell stories.
Of a moon mad boy that travels between the seams.
A guitar motor.
A love punch horror.
A love **** taker,
The holy rock maker.
Crashing gates
takes the face
from bark.
Stoic as the trees
sonic as the sound
crazy loon lashing
dance around.

Heard a voice
One with the birds
birdy brain feather
emergancy of words

Killer killer
the liqour drinker

the little libra
The sinatra fevor

The apple eater
stream water drinker

the hopefull hopeless
Cautious curious

bring it back

the fat cat

the heart beat speaker
detuned reaper

an desperate dreamer of romamce roads and rigamorits

Carolina fire flies
tenneses weeping walls
arkansas arkane maw

The dandy dandalion
Photosynthesis the good times.

The photo prisim
The self made prison
The wall written upon
the wall dashed upon
friends family lovers understood
break down rebound
Some new coast bound.

Nothing but words,
And one with the birds..
People, listen as I stand before you.
I stand straight and brave but i pray.

Come back,
To your roots and be alive and just.
Come fast,
Before you lose the rest of feelings.

People, open your eyes as I ask you.
Please, I say, please, open them up.

Come forth,
Be strong to make it all through again.
Come bright,
Bring all heritage with you never losing.

People, don't shout, but listen, just please.
I won't beg if I should, but you're no monsters.

Come carefull,
Beware of threads we forgot to forget in the past.
But come hopefull,
Humanity comes from nature, and know she cant lose.

Please come.
MARK RIORDAN Nov 2020
JUST SAW OUR NEWS IN AUSTRALIA PRESIDENT TRUMP HAS ASKED THE WHITE HOUSE TO START THE HAND OVER WITH THE INCOMING JOE BIDEN. THANKFULLY FINALLY HIS EGO HAS DEPARTED AND HIS LOVE FOR HIS COUNTRY AND THE AMERICAN PEOPLE HAS APPEARED.
HOPEFULLY THIS MAY HELP IN HIS CONTRIBUTION TO AMERICAN POLITIAL HISTORY .

FINALLY NOW TRUMP IS PRESIDENTIAL
THE BIDEN PROCESS HAS STARTED
TRUMP NOW HAS AMERICA IN MIND
HIS EGO HAS NOW DEPARTED


HOPEFULL BY THE TIME OF INAUGURATION
BIDEN WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO
NATIONAL SECURITY AND THE COVID CRISIS
PRESIDENT TRUMP IS NOW TRUE BLUE

ADMIRATION AND CONRATULATIONS ARE DUE WHEN A MAN CAN SEE SOME DREAMS ARE BIGGER THAN HIS OWN.
Dennis Willis Jul 2019
Doling out syllables
of need or want
barely a nod
to beauty

She smashes dinner
like it earned
a whuppin and is
gettin' it

She nods under her hat
this startling beauty
and things get mixed up
on my tongue

Hopefull-lessness
strikes as she smites
proactively my wants
into salty crumbs
G J O'Brien May 2019
Let the promise change you from prying and seeking for reason not,
From fearfull to hopefull the dwellers in the land of none, bond a safe haven of trust and peace within
Then we will decreed a homecoming beginning your souls to travel in this direction for it is a new and weary way.
Paige Error Jun 2019
A long long time ago I asked you what your favorite color was. You paused and said yellow. Up until then yellow was just a color but now. Now it’s everywhere. And every time I see yellow I smile because I think of you. You just radiate beautifully hopefull innocent optimistic yellow. And whenever I feel like the world is caving in and the minutia of it all has dragged me to the end of my strength. I see a dandelion, or a honey bee, or even a bottle of lemonade and it’s like we’re back in sophomore year sitting on your bedroom floor looking up cheesy pickup lines and playing killer bunnies. Even though you’re 900 miles away blessing a new territory with your grace. You know I’ll always love you to the giant black hole in the center of the universe and, though it is physically impossible, back. I’ll see you in Mormon heaven because I know you’re gonna baptize my name once I’m dead XD.
You would be so sad to see how bad the spacing outs gotten since you left.
Bethany Apr 2019
I’m that girl
Battered
And broken
But still standing

I’m that girl
Lost
And abandoned
But still hoping

I’m that girl
Shredded
And struggling
But still trying

I’m that girl
Left
And all alone
But still hopefull

I’m that girl
stubborn
And strong
And still thriving
Delton Peele Jun 2020
Somewhere within the confindes of my mind
An image ..........
A youger age ,
A little more vigor
A little less unsure idealistic ,
Thats for sure
Looking hopefull
At the world

Saturated

Missunderstood

— The End —