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"johanna" poems
<> The Instigation: Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,” I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“ <•> *both of you shush! there is no “better” in poetry mine yours theirs, alive or not, just gasps tears and blood whimsical smiles and isles cuts and burns of pained revelations, hidden in fog, that words try to delete away, through the shrouded mists of human tissues, unconstrained by the bounded shape of the human cell, our first, our own self-imposed jail tissue, too, baby soft, or, purple beating majestic bruised blotches by those weaklings whose kindness never fully developed;   or old man mine whose skin cells erodes, so poems and light weary weighted, lightly flake off for your “betterment” mostly tho for worse good humans all await, in patientce lightly hidden, residents of dark sunspots in the glaring existence exposer of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come they get it how we get there unimportant get there GET THERE get there that is the poetic mission critical no path best or style preferred- no compare just, but, any path that lifts and elevates, to the commonplace* the common place *where all costarred, universal, where common is the temple mount of highest praise, holy smoke rising, a place that that discloses and closes, is scribed/described honestly as a connective, which is the simplest successive call my poems, blessedly common! that an honorable, so gladly accepted and so much more meaning-full than merely best or better* for that, I’d gladly weep, for no praise ever been bettered 8/2/18 406pm on the jitney to my isle
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
the common place... (for Kim Johanna Baker & Edmund Black)
<> The Instigation: Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,” I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“ <•> *both of you shush! there is no “better” in poetry mine yours theirs, alive or not, just gasps tears and blood whimsical smiles and isles cuts and burns of pained revelations, hidden in fog, that words try to delete away, through the shrouded mists of human tissues, unconstrained by the bounded shape of the human cell, our first, our own self-imposed jail tissue, too, baby soft, or, purple beating majestic bruised blotches by those weaklings whose kindness never fully developed;   or old man mine whose skin cells erodes, so poems and light weary weighted, lightly flake off for your “betterment” mostly tho for worse good humans all await, in patientce lightly hidden, residents of dark sunspots in the glaring existence exposer of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come they get it how we get there unimportant get there GET THERE get there that is the poetic mission critical no path best or style preferred- no compare just, but, any path that lifts and elevates, to the commonplace* the common place *where all costarred, universal, where common is the temple mount of highest praise, holy smoke rising, a place that that discloses and closes, is scribed/described honestly as a connective, which is the simplest successive call my poems, blessedly common! that an honorable, so gladly accepted and so much more meaning-full than merely best or better* for that, I’d gladly weep, for no praise ever been bettered 8/2/18 406pm on the jitney to my isle
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As her words grab my heart with each and every message or poem I read, It truly saddens me to be so far in distance, I can't offer her what she may need. Never have I layed my eyes upon her, I can only Invision her beauty by her poems and words of wisdom. Her soul sweet as the blooming flowers and heart as pure as gold. It's as if her soul is that no less than angelic as she has touched many on this site and more. What saddens me is soon she will no longer be with us as her illness is growing worse day by day, My Dearest Kim Johanna Baker, there will be a sadness and void on this site and in my heart the day the Lord takes you away. I hope that she may see this before it's her time to go, for when the other angels come for her I want for her to know. The impact her sweet soul has left for all of us here on HP, some more than others , some of you like me. So if you would or care to join me in my dedication to a very loving soul that makes this site so pleasurable, feel free to leave a comment below. We love you our dear friend , our dear friend Kim! Please feel free to repost this for the ones I don't know
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Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Kim Johanna Baker
Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. ~~~~~~~ mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii | jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii || taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii | ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii? saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii || chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii | motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii || a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii | aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii || duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii | maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii || aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii | daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii || ____ Notes I am the translator of this poem, "Torn in Shreds" by Mirabai. I did not copyright it; it's in the public domain and everyone is free to help themselves to it. I simply request that it appear with my name as the translator. Johanna-Hypatia Cybeleia
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Torn In Shreds
Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. ~~~~~~~ mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii | jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii || taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii | ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii? saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii || chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii | motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii || a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii | aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii || duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii | maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii || aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii | daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii || ____ Notes I am the translator of this poem, "Torn in Shreds" by Mirabai. I did not copyright it; it's in the public domain and everyone is free to help themselves to it. I simply request that it appear with my name as the translator. Johanna-Hypatia Cybeleia
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Johanna, Joanna, Ella paga mañana Volver para un frente Teniendo la mente Sin ropa, sin aire Asfixia sin despair (Johanna, Joanna She'll pay tomorrow Come back for a front Having the mind Without clothes, without air Choking without despair)
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
Johanna
HelloPoetry Blessed us all , no matter where we live. I am truly Blessed by each and everyone alike here. There are so many here on this here site that I am thankful for. Sally Bayan, Mike Hauser, Iamdaisie, Olivia Kent, Wendy Ronshausen,Brandon Nagley, Earl Jane, Rachel Sia Jane Lloyd, Lydia Monet,Neil Aranda, Mark Cleavenger, Ann Marie Johnson, Melanie Wilson-Herring, Mike Essig,  **** Paz Its Gonna Make Sense. PrttyBrd, Vicki Bashor, Kripi Mehra, Willyam Pax, Poetess Bhumi, Kelly Rose. Elizabeth Burnettge, Toni Pugh, Paul Champman, David Lewis Paget. Ryn, Sean Scibbles, Aurelia, Kim Johanna Baker,Yasaman Johari. Lady RF,Crazy Diamond Kristy, Weeping Willow, Alyssa Underwood. MydstopiA,adhi das, South by southwest, Petal, soulsurvivor. reformdancerecover,Ashly Kocher, Mack, Travler, Randolph Wilson. Plus many more whom are very special indeed whom did not make this poem love you all in Christ.
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
HelloPoetry
I know some deep pain saddens you now It has been nesting in your heart for long Breeding in the silence of your soul It leaves your body n' mind awfully sick It intensifies with every deepening night Leaving the wound in your heart severely bleeding Something that you haven’t fully divulged Robbing you off all your cheer and ebullience, I can feel the smoldering of your heart How I wish I could fan away those aches Wipe off all the pain from your body n' mind Or at least share a bit of it, dear sweet Kim! Even when you wear a mask impenetrable Or sublimate your feelings through lovely verse I can gauge the depth of despair you feel inside And sense the rising palpitations of your heart. When your eyes strain to read what is on the screen You feel, you are deprived of the only pleasure you have Though you hoped things would improve in course of time When your eyesight got badly impaired, you sank in despair Even when distanced, please know I am near Somewhere so close, as an unseen presence Staying by your side, to wipe your tears away Praying for you ever and wishing you all good You were the darling of this great poetry site Your presence is sorely missed by all We wish you to be back with your balmy words Eager to read your lovely verse, proclaiming love Life is strange with sudden twists and turns But never ever give up, nor lose hope Believe, at any time there can be a turn around After the bleary night, comes the bright morn Again the sun shall show up in the East Darkness will recede and light shall descend The meadows with dew drops shall shine  And the woods with the song of birds will ring Look up to God in issues you cannot handle Call Him again to your aid when you battle with life He cannot but yield to the voice of your calling And instantly heal your heart, now deeply bleeding
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May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
To Kim Johanna Baker
I know some deep pain saddens you now It has been nesting in your heart for long Breeding in the silence of your soul It leaves your body n' mind awfully sick It intensifies with every deepening night Leaving the wound in your heart severely bleeding Something that you haven’t fully divulged Robbing you off all your cheer and ebullience, I can feel the smoldering of your heart How I wish I could fan away those aches Wipe off all the pain from your body n' mind Or at least share a bit of it, dear sweet Kim! Even when you wear a mask impenetrable Or sublimate your feelings through lovely verse I can gauge the depth of despair you feel inside And sense the rising palpitations of your heart. When your eyes strain to read what is on the screen You feel, you are deprived of the only pleasure you have Though you hoped things would improve in course of time When your eyesight got badly impaired, you sank in despair Even when distanced, please know I am near Somewhere so close, as an unseen presence Staying by your side, to wipe your tears away Praying for you ever and wishing you all good You were the darling of this great poetry site Your presence is sorely missed by all We wish you to be back with your balmy words Eager to read your lovely verse, proclaiming love Life is strange with sudden twists and turns But never ever give up, nor lose hope Believe, at any time there can be a turn around After the bleary night, comes the bright morn Again the sun shall show up in the East Darkness will recede and light shall descend The meadows with dew drops shall shine  And the woods with the song of birds will ring Look up to God in issues you cannot handle Call Him again to your aid when you battle with life He cannot but yield to the voice of your calling And instantly heal your heart, now deeply bleeding
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To the boy in my German class who critizised me for picking a male name instead of a female one. I wonder how your head will **** When you see your best friend Joey Become Johanna I wonder how your jaw will drop When you see your son Beg to be bought a dress I wonder how your ears will suffer When your daughter Shows up at your home with her girlfriend I wonder if you will care You called me crazy My name is Dirk My name is Gender Roles If you are born a female I come with Flowers I come with Barbies and pink accessories I come with pink kitchen sets and doll hair brushes and fake makeup I come with pink I come with pink I come with pink I come with pink I come in fusha I come in burgandy I come in lilac I come in white For the added package I come with liposuction and days without food I come with too tight clothes and more labels than you can count I come with kitchen jokes I come with being judged if you had *** or Haven't But wait there's more If you are male I come with toy trucks And remote controls I come with not crying I come with blue ***** And Sunday football games And rough housing and be a man Be a man Be a man Be a man Be a man I come in Testosterone black I come in beaten up blue I come in Grades don't matter green I come in what're you looking at white For the added package I come with teasing Required gym time Peer preasure Don't cry I come with straightness And close minded friends I come with video games I come with make the money Pay for dinner Pay for movies Pay for living Pay for squirming I come with physical torture Critizised For having *** or Not having *** My name is Gender roles and I come in a school room My name is Izzie and I'm alive My name is Christy and I'm crying My name is Dirk and I am satisfied My name is Gender roles
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
My Name is Gender Roles
To the boy in my German class who critizised me for picking a male name instead of a female one. I wonder how your head will **** When you see your best friend Joey Become Johanna I wonder how your jaw will drop When you see your son Beg to be bought a dress I wonder how your ears will suffer When your daughter Shows up at your home with her girlfriend I wonder if you will care You called me crazy My name is Dirk My name is Gender Roles If you are born a female I come with Flowers I come with Barbies and pink accessories I come with pink kitchen sets and doll hair brushes and fake makeup I come with pink I come with pink I come with pink I come with pink I come in fusha I come in burgandy I come in lilac I come in white For the added package I come with liposuction and days without food I come with too tight clothes and more labels than you can count I come with kitchen jokes I come with being judged if you had *** or Haven't But wait there's more If you are male I come with toy trucks And remote controls I come with not crying I come with blue ***** And Sunday football games And rough housing and be a man Be a man Be a man Be a man Be a man I come in Testosterone black I come in beaten up blue I come in Grades don't matter green I come in what're you looking at white For the added package I come with teasing Required gym time Peer preasure Don't cry I come with straightness And close minded friends I come with video games I come with make the money Pay for dinner Pay for movies Pay for living Pay for squirming I come with physical torture Critizised For having *** or Not having *** My name is Gender roles and I come in a school room My name is Izzie and I'm alive My name is Christy and I'm crying My name is Dirk and I am satisfied My name is Gender roles
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I messaged a friend that is one of our own on this wonderful sight HP., Her spirits are down as she's not doing well, . She brings brightness to all of our writes and takes so much pride in the comments she leaves, I was hoping we could all say a Prayer or send a kind thought her way. She has truly inspired so many of us , she has a heart of gold. Her name is Kim Johanna Baker. I know she will appreciate any and all kind words as we all have appreciated hers. This will lift her spirits so I thank you all in advance , for I have never met this beautiful woman that lives across the sea but she lays heavy in my heart as if I've known her for ever. Please leave her a comment if you have the time God Bless. Please repost this as I am new and have few followers and she has many so everyone can see.
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
My Friend Across the Sea, Kim Johanna Baker
a a A a A agony and and and and are arms arms. at at baby beaten beating beating birth, body border border. breast breast, consciousness. death? deep deep despondency, distance early East eternity. feel for From from from go going happiness has has Have He he hear heard heart heart him him I I I I I if in In in in in infinity is Is is It it it It laid little love, man, mine, mine. morning. my my my ocean of Of of of of of of of of on pain passed passes rocked Rocked rumbling sky? sleep small small small some sorrow? springing Springing stop. stop. stopped. Such that the the the the the the the the the the Then Then then. time. to too. too. train up very very wake was waters waves, we well What When white will will will with wonder you
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Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
Alphabetical sorting of the words from the poem "From the Deep Waters of Sleep" by Johanna Adriana Ader-Appels.
it's too bad, blowing on the harmonica that he's found Louise can never be what he needs and it's too bad strumming the strings that he knows Johanna is all he'll ever want and it's too bad singing the song that he knows Johanna is gone and all he wants is to see Johanna not Louise, but Louise can go to the ends of the world and Johanna knows she's what he wants Johanna dances in his mind and Louise walks a thin line Johanna sways to and fro and Louise stays put - everything just so and all he wants to see is Johanna, not Louise.
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Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 11:55 AM UTC
Bob Said It's Johanna, Not Louise.
Crossroads are a particular kind of place where mythology and actuality combine, mix and dance with your shadow. Limitlessness has a name and social security number in your restlessness and your ambitiousness. I've performed in cafes and on street corners, In bookshops and depots, woods and public restrooms with the junkyard profits desperately clutching to my clothes, refusing my money but begging for my love. But now I am at the crossroads. The smoke from my soul comes in, forces me to turn around, turn around turn around, and see the faces, so many different faces, all those who have loved me, mocked me, befriended me, mentored, hated, changed maimed spit in my eye called me what they thought I was. So many faces. So many eyes full of dreams and ire. How many would I come to know again? Who would become fortune tellers blues-men teachers cops preachers mathematicians builders destroyers soldiers of fortune businessmen liars or junkyard prophets? Who will become like smoke in the fog, slightly hazy lost-boys off to never-never land, never to be seen or heard from except for the cries that whisper the time? So many faces. What will I be to them? A companion friend liar hater lover brother sideshow an I knew him when a face that looks at their back at the crossroads, a wisp of smoke? I turn again, turn turn, a cymbal shot pushes me forward, left and right, but I can never go back behind. Johanna whispers Even salvation must get old. I know she must be correct, at least as far as I can turn my head. The right is barred, the left is guarded by the beasts, the faces hum a dirge or a lullaby, I straighten my jacket, pack my self into a slip bag, and blow away with the smoke.
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Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 11:44 AM UTC
Smoke
Crossroads are a particular kind of place where mythology and actuality combine, mix and dance with your shadow. Limitlessness has a name and social security number in your restlessness and your ambitiousness. I've performed in cafes and on street corners, In bookshops and depots, woods and public restrooms with the junkyard profits desperately clutching to my clothes, refusing my money but begging for my love. But now I am at the crossroads. The smoke from my soul comes in, forces me to turn around, turn around turn around, and see the faces, so many different faces, all those who have loved me, mocked me, befriended me, mentored, hated, changed maimed spit in my eye called me what they thought I was. So many faces. So many eyes full of dreams and ire. How many would I come to know again? Who would become fortune tellers blues-men teachers cops preachers mathematicians builders destroyers soldiers of fortune businessmen liars or junkyard prophets? Who will become like smoke in the fog, slightly hazy lost-boys off to never-never land, never to be seen or heard from except for the cries that whisper the time? So many faces. What will I be to them? A companion friend liar hater lover brother sideshow an I knew him when a face that looks at their back at the crossroads, a wisp of smoke? I turn again, turn turn, a cymbal shot pushes me forward, left and right, but I can never go back behind. Johanna whispers Even salvation must get old. I know she must be correct, at least as far as I can turn my head. The right is barred, the left is guarded by the beasts, the faces hum a dirge or a lullaby, I straighten my jacket, pack my self into a slip bag, and blow away with the smoke.
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I remember my younger days Were the ashes of fire grew higher Crowds and streets with empty praise If they practice truth in the mirror, they´re a liar I remember the iron curtain Blocking any ray of sun When crazy mind´s were the only sane and you could´t trust anyone I remember childhood dreams That died for each year that I grew A time when ends justified the means and what joy meant no one knew I remember beliefs forced upon me Until I was convinced they were my own When being a alive was the same as being free Feeling unsafe under the roof of my home I remember the color red On the ground and on the flag I remember the tears I shed When I lost the few good things I had I remember being scared To sell my soul by mistake To become like the people I feared and not realize until it was too late I remember a foreign earth Across borders, beyond the wall Where no one decided what a life was worth I remember waiting for the barricade to fall I remember my younger days Memories burned into my mind I remember the crowds and streets of heavy praise When the fog lifted in 1989 «Copyright Johanna Magdalena Husebye»
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Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
1989
My first poem was born, on Orquidia's beauty mark that sat next to her upper lip as if patiently waiting for me and my eager hands to knock on her door if it was my first poem of love, I never knew where it really was born, perhaps it was on Julia's ardent smile that always kept me for awhile underneath the shade of her finger's touch I would make a map of her cheekbones as vast and immense as the Earth's Core, like the way I could see the Amazon thought Johanna's green eyes dense like the kisses that we shared and I could never find my way if in fact it was my first love poem the one I wrote about her, Daisy would have had something to say I was her most precious secret at night fall she would come to my lair and like lovers from other times I kept a string of her hair hidden in a letter nobody ever saw, but Leah remained my greatest muse the most imperfectly perfect verse impossible to resist was her mouth my heart had finally found a home I rested on her chest until dawn, she was my first poem of love, or at least that's what I'd like to think even if they were loves lost forever they each shine like shooting stars far away in the universe of my mind while my pen patiently awaits along with your presence quintessential true love, the owner of my verses.
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Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:52 PM UTC
"My First Poem"
In The hours When the lips of the rocks Were gummed The howling waters Wore the garments of tranquility And laid allay We Stood on the waters Head truss Like a petal and a sepal on a stalk We spoke no words Yet our minds Understood the language of the heart The burning flames within And the sparkling urges Then I lurk through her breath And stole her soul Together our spirits went aloft Over jaundiced shadows High and higher to the clouds Till it gulp us onto the universe There I tucked her arm onto mine And walked her Down the aisles and palaces Of the planets Jupiter was no more,but Johanna Then I sat her on the hallowed throne And touched her hands with the smiles of the sun With the candies of the moon In her mouth One,two,three,... I counted the stars As my parole of love Infinte Parole ©Historian E.Lexano
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May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 10:30 AM UTC
Infinite Parole
Curtains close to the final performance Seeing you run to me with such romance Missing that feeling of excite Remembering your extreme delight That smile you raise to be Your eyes still blue and beautiful to me You share your thoughts and kindness Even when I was still a mess You waved your hair around I was sure to keep bound Long ago sharing with love Returning with a jokingly shove Being proud of you Just between us two Ahead of the playing field You have yet to yield I’ll always look forward to seeing you With your bright beautiful eyes of blue
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May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Johanna
There are so many that has left that will be really missed on here. Like Kim Johanna Baker, I have not seen Bradon Nagley in a while' God has used them and their poetry to show hope on here to others. There are more that have Left , I miss Vicki as well she is another. So many Gifted Poets whom worked hard at showing others Hope here. Through their keep on pushing through in their Life and Poetry. Still there are others that are still here sharing their poetry and caring. I just want you all like Kristy, Pradip, Ryn,Tapiwa,H-B,Rose, Walter, Alyssa. Valsa,Kikodinho,Jen,Logasn, Ben,Cisco,Timur,Kasidee, J Kleins, Traveler. Wendy,Wordvango, Timothy, Marian,and many more Powerful Poets.
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
God Use You To Give Me Hope
who is me? brush my hair who is me? comb my hair I Am Jo I am Joh I am Johan I am Johann I am Johanna Who is me? I am I am like good girl
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 6:56 AM UTC
Who is me?
It has been brought to my attention that two people from Hello poetry are trying to track me for purposes unknown. My iPhone alerts me daily of such dangerous. It could be quite possible there is more than one name of these particular individuals but it’s something to be made aware of. Kim Johanna Baker and Pamela Ray come up with daily tracking on my phone. I have not posted in quite a while so imagine my surprise I wonder if anyone else has come across something similar? I have notified hello poetry. I wanted to bring it out in the open to other poets. It’s quite possible there are more than one of these people on this site with the same names. so PLEASE do not attack these people. because we don’t even know if it’s them or somebody posing to be them. I never thought evil intentions would come to this site. stay safe and write on!
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Feb 18, 2022
Feb 18, 2022 at 2:07 AM UTC
Tracking Hacking WARNING
How can it be that my heart aches for someone I’ve never met yet feel as if I’ve known forever. It’s as if our souls are attached through words typed and traveled all the way across the sea . What is this, is it real, can it even be? My friend lays in her bed only to await her journey to end. As these thoughts race me to tears of the thought of her gone yet we have never even met What is this, is it real, can it even be A gut wrenching sadness that won’t go away, it’s as if I see her eyes I’ve never even seen and can feel her pain and her sadness as she lay in her bed to meet her fate, What of such a force that is between us could allow this bond of two lives yet my eyes have never met her existence nor hers have met mine What is this, is it real, can it even be, Is this woman from across the sea my angel or am I to be hers, for we share so much likeness in our lives and things of our past and agree of things of this world most know nothing about, Whatever it is or how it was meant to be I feel her in my heart and know she feels me Whatever it may be it is more than real until we meet one day, I will always love you my friend across the sea.
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Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 8:15 PM UTC
Cherished Deducation to Kim Johanna Baker
For your name, Your name I've inscribed On the slabs, And kept in the Pyramids of my heart, For I know the murderous rains, Would have stab, And eventually wipe away If art in the skies, Or even under the sea, And if futile in his malice, Would have informed his overzealous brother, To shine more fiercely In search of your name, Through caves and jungles And if found;bungle it with heat, And if both prove futile In their course, Would have emerged and fuse, Their zips And rust your name off, The gold and diamond plates, But your name is safe and carved, Deep within my heart, And the tremors of my temperament Have part in awe, For even if I die, I die with it As my ally, In a battle, Johanna❤ For your name, ©Historian E.Lexano
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
for your name
Her words of inspiration she speaks with her pen My heart worries of her absence and Longs  to see her amongst us again The friend I found in her is so very special and rare I Pray that she knows how much we all care. It’s been five long months since she has reached out to me I miss her advise and encouragement you see This woman my eyes have never seen or voice I’ve never heard, became one of my dearest most cherished friends Kim Johanna Baker, I pray that you know how much you are loved before you time on this earth ends If you can read this but are to Ill to respond I thank you for all your words that have touched my soul and for a sister like bond I know your spirits were darkened by so many things out of your control There is not nor will there ever be a more loving, caring woman with an angelic soul.
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Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 8:29 PM UTC
Lost Friend
run a finger down my throat, i dare you it would be searing like mid-august pavement in california when you try to walk with naked feet and my guts feel like a frying pan each of my insides are steaming if i moaned, i'd fog all of the windows one by one thats why when i feel passionate when i touch myself in this tiny apartment with legs as long as lady bugs, and a patience that wears as thin as nylons in spring-- i shut my mouth. bumps and bruises run across my vision red scales like slick snakes and a rumbling like pebbles after rain that when you crunch on them, it sounds like a series of small bones, cracking there is a certain sourness to my teeth: dinner was pickles from the jar johanna gave them to me after i dumped my cigarettes into a flower vase. "its an art project" really its a self care project so my lungs don't have to pop out burnt from the toaster. DING!
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Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC
texture
Home  is a powerful concept...if you can find that in the heart of others . A place that is safe, a place that too often bright and welcoming without judgement, a place to be understood, a place that celebrates you and looks for you, a place where the sunsets are always beautiful, a place that lights up upon your presence ...if you can find that where ever it may be ...Do not let go.  Home is truly a magical  place where we love one another . Home is You beautiful people  Diamond Crazy Kristy, Santita, CJ Love, Fawn , Perry, Crow, Micrography- D, Pattie m, Luz Hanaii , Pegan Paul, , Cné , Star BG, Sue, emnabee, Omni, Temporal Fugue, Valsa George, Tash McKay , Lora Lee , Donna, False Poets, Kim JOHANNA Baker, Lily, Suzy, tinhearts, Nat lipstadt , Lori Jones Mckaffery, Elena, Joey,Mack, Gods1son, Khoi-San, Poetryjournal, Sheila Sharpe, Sjr1000, Polar, Monlight, Diya, M-E , Salmabunu Hatim , Jules just to name a few and etc I am humbled, appreciative, grateful for all the love and your generosity with kindness. What we’re experiencing here is love manifested as poetry. My love is real ~~~~ Love , love , love always bring healing to the incurable.                    Thank You From The Bottom Of My Heart ❤️ Thank You
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May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019 at 8:59 PM UTC
Thank You
Often You come to mind And something in me stirs inside Like someone has turned On a light And I feel all aglow. I Reflect on a day When we used to play In your big house Marlborough Gardens Full Of smiles and laughter. Johanna, I will never forget you... I'm so glad I met you. Johanna, I' m so glad WE Had SOME Time TOGETHER. I will never forget You!
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
Johanna P.