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h a r Mar 2017
A sound was heard at my
garden door
A feathered smudge found upon it

There she lay in frightened
trembling dismay
   A giant knelt ...
yet still towering above her

He reached out and touched
her pounding heart
Then cupped her warmth
in his hand

She stayed awhile until
she could smile
At the kindly human mystery

This love they shared
is uncommonly rare
She knew she could be freed

Before she flew
she whispered a song she knew
into the gentle giant’s  beard :

“I cannot make you happy
You're a wounded Bird like me ―
be Free...
you must find the strength to Fly”…

"A Bird in your hand
  is worth two in the bush ―

   Come fly away with me"...



March 2012 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
.
Thank you so much for the special feature this simple heartfelt poem has been allowed.  It is based on actual events that happen often where habitat
meets civilization.  As humans we can mitigate this footprint left behind by lifting the weight of caring with actions that speck louder than words. Who among us has not needed a helping hand when we are struggling with the unexpected?  Moments we must find the strength to carry on with a little help from our friends?

   Find the strength to fly ―

Written March 1st, 2012
reposted from my original account
.
Mark Upright Aug 2018
The World Requires Edmund Black’s Random Acts of Doughnut Kindness (1/36)

Edmund!


a friend mutual on HP
sent me your poem below
asking me to respond appropriately,
close the tale, he said,
and that I would understand,
thinking by being marked,
I had some expertise in the matter

perhaps you are unaware that the world
exists only because there are at least thirty six^
righteous men on the earth and
personally believe,
there are more

who they are, a well kept secret,
but secrets tend to leak so...

only one,
Mr. Edmund,
employs a dozen doughnuts
(chocolate frosted)
to follow through
on the most important
commandment human
love thy neighbor
with a dozen holies

I’m told that like certain loaves of bread,
a dozen doughnuts
now have along with
wine and water
a place in the repertoire of the selector of the
thirty six

which needs noting,
a dozen
is 1/3 of thirty six

sometimes the answers are in the wholes of the holiest!


<•>
Edmund black
Jul 15

My Perfect Morning

The climate in the
World may change
But it will never
Change me
not for a moment
I truly have the most
amazing  life ,
Couldn’t be any better
I get up every morning
Next to  this gorgeous
amazing woman
Get my morning kiss
Maybe a few morning kisses
in my open mouth
If you get my drift
Cause you know I’m in love
Sit back in the back patio porch
Listening to Mother Nature’s  
Performance
while reading hellopoetry
Few minutes later
I told my lady  I had to
Go run  some errands
Not realizing yet
What’s up ahead,
Arrived and
While in line at Chrispy kreme’s
A little boy about 5 years of age
Loosing his mind over some
Chocolate frosted
Mother and father told him
They couldn’t afford it
They were only there for coffee
Little boy started
crying hysterically
My Heart Cries out for him
And chivalrously I’ve waited
in line right behind them
Just couldn’t allow
That to take place
I told dad if it was okay
I would love to buy the boy
a dozen chocolate frosted
He accepted and gave
me a hand shake
Mom teared up and dad
wouldn’t Stop thinking me
I hate seeing good
People like this
But anyway,
What an awesome moment
A moment of love sharing
And here’s the most
Amazing part of
my early morning outside
Of my morning kisses
I got the longest hug
From the little man
A handshake
From dad
And a kiss on the cheek
From mom
What can be any better
Than the life I live
I do what I want
And it’s mostly
Helping other people
That’s all that matters.
Having meanings in
Other people’s lives
Fulfills me ,
And what more
Can I say ,
My perfect
          Morning

I live life
For the inexplicable
Moment
Life is love and love
     Always gives
                    ALWAYS
^Mystical Hasidic Judaism as well as other segments of Judaism believe that there exist 36 righteous people whose role in life is to justify the purpose of humankind in the eyes of God. Jewish tradition holds that their identities are unknown to each other and that, if one of them comes to a realization of their true purpose, they would never admit it:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tzadikim_Nistarim
Camilla Green Nov 2018
"Hello, hallway, linoleum tile,
I can't really see you but
I hope you're there."

Green spiders crawl through my smoked-up veins,
their spindles weave their webs of red
under eyelids gravitating towards sleep.

Retinal film flashes; each blink is an
unprocessed, scared, broken reel.

"Put your hands," he says, "on mine.
Breathe, look into my eyes."

Shaking fingertips touch his; snowflakes
gently collide with sunny ground.

They were afraid to melt,
even though they might want to.
I wish it had been 33°.
Thom Jamieson Aug 2018
He dreamed he was loved.
A love guarded fiercely, with passion.
A love that was not unconditional.
Not the blank slate love of a child
or an animal so programmed by instinct.
This love was willful and earned.
Having glimpsed an injured brilliance
beneath the flab and sweat and stench she weaned it to health.
Making it stronger, and brighter,
and more prominent with each passing day; until it erupted.
And he was transformed.
to embody that brilliance.
And she protected that embodiment.
Letting nothing call it to question.
She cared for him as he never could for himself.
She soothed and softened
and loved the deep furrow from his brow.
And her passion overwhelmed him.

And he wanted for nothing.

And when he opened his eyes
To **** and filth
with only the kiss of concrete
and the banter of horns
and obscenities
and footsteps.
******* FOOTSTEPS.
Heels pittering purposefully to mask exhausted uncertainty
Brogues, and wingtips clicking; with a cocky juvenile illusion of importance.
Boots plodding heavily under the weight of duty,
to build, and fix, and secure for the others.
And through a fog laid thick and throbbing
by poisons chased dutifully the night before;
he felt her fierce love for a fleeting moment
Guarding, and loving his shining brilliance
until it erupted from him;
With bile and blood, **** and regret
coldly rejected by his concrete companion.
And she was gone once again.
I almost never write in the third person but thought I would give it a try (part of my narcissism therapy ;) )  Feedback welcome  (also part of it...:))
Joseph A Belli Mar 2010
My partner in crime
Always on my mind
Who I can talk to for hours with no words half the time
My anchor at sea on a ship with no sails
And the will to keep rowing where my strength may fail
While I am with you I am fearless of heights
You make me feel loved and prompt me to write
When you speak - I don't listen
I breath in your words
Exhale, look up and see a new world
One with promise
A future shining bright as the Sun
Simply knowing your Love means the world to just one
As we drink up these moments
We're running from time
Staring into your eyes
I glare back into mine
Fly north on your wings while your heart becomes colder
When we are to meet again, we wont be different - just older.
So if you ever are lonely in a town with blank faces,
Look up at the sky and count the stars in their places.
For you can bet God I'll be counting them too.
Although we may be apart, I am always with you.
© J.Belli 2007.. Critique, Help me become a better writer..
Tommy Randell Nov 2016
Nothing so depresses me like the inexorable increase of entropy,
To exist the Universe runs down to pass the time of day
Clocks need moments of time just to be
All the arrows of our lives pointing into the future spell decay.

But what’s to be done with Joy, the real stuff,
Such as between perpetual friends is Joyousness all they need to be enough?
Can joy be talked about in finite ways, can joy be mapped like by a Geographer
Be fixed by the peerless reasoning of this and that mind-crap and formulae?

Can all that poets have dreamed on our behalf,
Not be the words and skill to force our feelings into a choreograph
And fix our loving laughter into some ******* ever after,
Can all that we would be seen to be be nothing but fodder for that artillery entropy?

The truth in you will make you wise some guru in a book once said to me
But no truth yet has turned a pretty face I did not also see Its wicked taste for irony,
Its predilection, spiteful and guilty of all  brutality.
Joy undoubtedly exists though I cannot deny it beats in the heart with melancholy.

All friendships always turn into a binary, a power-play of entropy
Taking us into a place we've never imagined ourselves to be
We do it, we do it from the beginning, to those we love you see
All our kindness is the beginning of all our cruelty.
elle jaxsun Jul 2018
once gifted with
true kindness and compassion
i learned love.
08152017
Umi Mar 2018
Growth prevaded by a soil of emotions, rain of memories engraving the seed for a flower awaiting to bloom, the gift of life in a moving motion of time, forming and structuring the inner beauty of one,
Over years the spring of this beauty blossoms depending on the deeds, deepest wishes such as kindness and intuitions majestically,
A righteous soul will truly stand proud in the sun, alike a helianthus,
A trecious persons flower will be dead, as if it was drought, burnt in the heat of summer, the sweet aroma of life will still fill the air,
Caught in endless change of a devils distorted, desperate working,
The servants have the chance to either change for the better or to be ruined in their transient existence, fading into the dust they came of,
Beauty cast in the heart remains forever with enough care and work,
So this flower shall never rot, as long as it is protected with a desire and will to do good, to be gentle and truthful, thoughtful and wise,
Compassion, greatness and deep loving concern are a fertilizer,
Spread this kindness and you may have planted the seed for another beautiful child of the earth; A precious flower

~ Umi
LexiSully Jun 2016
He is a beacon of light amidst the darkness,
Whose brightness scatters the night,
Whose rays carry light to every corner of the earth.

He is the hopeful joy among the sorrow,
Whose smile lifts any face,
Whose spirit gives hope for a new day.

He is the music echoing through the silence,
Whose sound clings to every ear,
Whose rhythm will never be forgotten.

He is the simple inspiration whispered into ears,
Whose glad tidings create a picture for a brighter day,
Whose hope brings perseverance.

How could he, filled with inspiration, emanating kindness, fail to notice his worth?

Then all at once, he looks up, surveying the sparkling sky,
hearing the robin's tune,
admiring the smiles on faces passing by,
and knows that his impact on the world is interminable.
H3L3 Nov 2016
Dear Sister, you chose to leave.
You let me grieve upon loss.
You let me put myself last and yourself first.
You let me worry when I shouldn't.
You let me cry for you.
You let me get angry.
You let me feel pain.
You let me feel anxious.
You let.. you didn't let me do anything.
I chose to be the one to do that for you. To feel that with you.
You decided to take that for granted, and for that.. I owe you nothing.
I don't owe you a place to stay.
I don't owe you my love.
I don't owe you kindness.
I don't owe you anything.
Nobody owes you their time of day.
Nobody owes you the physical items you hold in your hand.
So why go around treating everyone like dirt?
To make the people that care about you suffer.
If it's to make yourself feel better, then I hope you feel worse.
To my.. *dear* sister.
Aaron Combs Mar 2015
This, this garden I made you, the garden of flowers,
I hope you might find strength through them.
On the right, the bees work to find it's honey,
and the daffodils on the left are still so blue.
The lilies by the small creek, and the rows of many flowers
stand in every color. The green-leafed willow I planted
holds them underneath the red sky.

My heart fades, my strength fails,
but your soul, like this, is a garden ever-beautiful.

Your lips are apple blossoms, and your hair falls like the breeze
of the morning.  Your kindness, like a hot shower
after a full day of work, you are so sweet, kind.
You take care of the weak, and do all that is good.
Like a mysterious tree in the garden,
                             You stand beautifully.

Now many things stretch for mystery and desire in the world,
but my bride, my bride, my beautiful bride, you set them all free.
My second poem, Enjoy! Encourage hearts and  comments, goal is 200. Can you contribute to my goal?
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2018
I don't know why you do what you do,
and hurt other people with words that aren't true.
Your words, your actions;
they make me angry.
And especially that reputation that you carry.
Does it please you when others hurt?
When you call them stupid, dumb, or a ****?
Do you find happiness in that?
Telling people things that are full of bad?
If so, I don't know how you do it,
spreading around so much hatred.
How about you try something new.
Being kind and caring; saying please and thank you.
All those hurtful things you can't undo.
So start spreading around things that are true.
This world would be so much better if people were kinder to each other. But we only have this planet to live on so far, so we might as well make it a welcoming place; you know, just incase the aliens decide that there planet isn't kind enough and they'd like to come and live here.
Axion Prelude Dec 2017
I am guilty of treason against my own heart in ever losing faith that I would come know another soul of such passionate discourse; rapt through compassionate dissonance; endearing and kind, and warm

I've never experienced beauty of this nature, and if ever I could not find a single voice beyond what resonates with me here, I would still invariably be forever content
aquis Aug 2018
whenever you expect
something to make you whole
give something
that is not whole
to someone who doesn’t expect
anything from you

give your heartbroken smile
to someone
with heartbroken eyes

give your roaring ears
to someone
with roaring thoughts

give your shaky hands
to someone
with shaky fears

give your weak shoulders
to someone
with weak tears

give your dimmed light
to someone
with a dimmed life

give something
that is not whole
to become whole
again
I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but was inspired to share it today after reading a truly beautiful poem “My All”, here on HP.

I believe with all my heart that ‘giving’ is not proportional with how much you have. Although it may seem so, it actually isn’t about what you ‘have’ to give, but about how willing you are to ‘give’, to help others, to practice kindness, to smile at strangers, to do something without contemplating what you will get in return.

Giving doesn’t take something away from you but it ‘gives’ way more back to you. You don’t need to be ‘whole’ to give, but you will feel whole after you see how happy you made someone just because you truly listened to them or told them you appreciate them.

Simplest things are often more than enough ☀️
Maya Oct 2018
if you can be anything
be kind.

we are all just humans.
we laugh at cute cat videos,
hum little songs,
eat raw cookie dough and laugh when it makes one giant cookie mass.

life is made of these moments.
people deserve so much love.
how often do we remind our families we love them?
is it often enough?
how many days do we think only of ourselves.
human nature is beautiful and terrible and stunning.

somehow hate seeps through the cracks of time and makes us bitter and angry.

and it's fine to be angry.
just don't let it consume you.
remember sometimes that there
are old folks out there who still tease each other,
there are babies who giggle when you play peekaboo,
there are dogs with slobbery tongues who need head scratches,
there are children spinning and laughing when they fall.
humams are important.
we are special.

even people we say we hate.
i thought i hated my mom
but i know she cares
and i have seen her run when she thought i was in danger.
i have seen her break into tears at getting a DUI and trying to explain to a child that she might lose her job.

being human is tough.
our hearts harden trying to protect ourselves but
we end up locking people out.

in trying to avoid being hurt
we hurt the ones we love.

please never forget that each person you meet has more than just facet.
people are stunningly complex.
don't judge someome til you've walked two moons in their moccasins.

humans are worth so much.
i don't know what i am saying
but i mean it with all of me.
i love you.
you deserve so much.
Kenya83 Oct 2017
Craving more than what we've got
A desire burns and it burns a lot

I'm not speaking monetary
I know the answer is in me
How can I affect humanity

Save the children from the horror of war
Stop the bullets that take animals to the floor
Feed the homeless and the poor
End our planets suffering core

I'm a dreamer,
But they are dreams of love
If only peace would fly
Like the dove
If only our priority was kindness
And life was priceless

If only we took what we need
Instead of being governed by greed
Take, take, take, and when it comes to giving back
Generosity seriously lacks

It's not my problem
We have nothing in common
It doesn't affect me
So just let it be

It's not my family,
Nor my community
It's not my country,
it doesn't bother me
It's not my ocean
So continue to fill it full of poisonous potion

They're not my animals,
Who cares if they go extinct
I'll breath in toxic air
So long as it doesn't stink

Be complacent
And you're complicit to all these things
Take responsibility
For the outcome that it WILL bring
Eve Stumpges Jan 1
To touch is to desire influential appreciation of another’s soul.
To be touched is to trust another’s permanent imprint on your heart.
To master both is to know love.
abecedarian Jan 2015
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend

tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...


I can do better.

Why?

not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize

"there for the grace of God
go you and I"

have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
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