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Max Neumann Dec 2019
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry
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Why? Because people from all over the world have found something here: a place of belongingness.

Please note that I am just a poet on hellopoetry who loves this website sincerely. I am not affiliated or personally related to the founders of hellopoetry.

I rarely ask to get my poems reposted, but I would encourage everyone to spread the message, possibly even outside of hellopoetry, for new active users and possible contributors.

It would break a lot of hearts if hellopoetry wouldn't exist anymore.
Vince Chul'Theg Nov 2013
~~Overwhelmed by the raw talent and emotion with which my students think and feel and write. Thank you, A.N.--Chuukese woman~~


Early in the morning
When the dark cloud covers the light
And hides my brother from seeing the light

I woke up along shocking news
That glazed my face with sadness
Brought tears to my eyes

I heard an awful voice
Coming from the mangroves
Just right after my brother
Hung himself with a thin rope

The voice said that
He had to find a hat
Before Uncle Priston
Forced him to drink the poison

I smell his perfume
When I start to feel the pain
In my heart

I feel the cold air
When he appears in my dreams
And he touches me with his cold hands
Apologizes to me

We cry to each other
Among the mangrove trees
Hugging each other
Talking about the truth

I lost his warm hands
And his warm heart
That blocked the cold air
From entering our house

His love and his memory will not be forgotten
But I hide it in a secret place
Because his love was exactly like a fire
That makes the people feel warm
As they come closer



by A.N.
representing Chuuk, Federated States of Micronesia
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 2019
Enthusiast is a bit of an understatement,
My friend Claire could tell you that;
As we hiked from the West coast to the East coast of Scotland
At night she read "normal things" - while I read maps.

Of course I needed to be sure of the route,
But after 25 miles of walking that wasnt all-
I'd spend at least 3 hours staring and staring
The roads, the woods, the rivers, hostels, churches, pubs and schools....

In fact night after night I spent,
So long engrossed,
That after five nights,
I had one of the strangest dreams ever experienced.

I was "in" an OS map -
Walking a yellow road, past big red triangles,
Counting contours,
And heading straight for the strangest of all -
Just across the red road, the enormous half filled pint glass
- the public house of course!

Surreal dream that was,
But also great fun,
I was in an OS map...
One without people - I was the only one

I did ease up on the map reading after,
Thought I might start hallucinating otherwise,
Claire already thought I was slightly mad,
If I told her we needed to shelter from the rain in the giant pint glass - well, as I said, she already knew I was mad!

But my obsession is not limited to OS maps,
Oh no, its the entire World Atlas;
Continents, Countries, Oceans and territories,
Nothing escapes my attention in the World Atlas.

I have so so many maps,
Because people keep changing things,
From the names of Countries and places
To minor details...bridges...silly little things.

I have a map that says USSR,
The Soviet Union so large,
Now I have another with Russia,
Belarus, Estonia, Ukraine, and others that re-emerged.

Even isolated places like Greenland
People cant make up their mind,
Is it Nuuk or Godthaab?
They are both still there to confuse the mind.

I had a map with Zaire,
Once the biggest country in Africa,
Its now the Democratic Republic of the Congo,
Needed to amend my map of Africa.

Ok, all maps up to date;
Just when I can rest my map brain...
Sudan is then split in two!!
Get out the map Emma - quick - draw a line!!

I dont know what I think would happen
If my maps were not up to date;
But I just cant take the risk,.
I have to change them before its too late.

Most recent of course was Swaziland,
How? Why? When?!
Its ok, i've read about it now,
And I understand...let me get my pen.

But Swaziland is so tiny
Now I need to write eSwatini (!)
My map is now such a mess
Time for a new one? No not yet - Swaziland has not yet changed like the rest!

I have to wait for cartographers
To catch up and make all the changes,
Or otherwise i'll only trust my own map
The one with scribbles all over the pages.

Its not just on a Country scale
Such changes do confuse us,
For even in South Africa alone -
New names replaces the oldies.

Port Elizabeth,
Now Nelson Mandela Bay;
I think its wonderful,
But its not what my map says!

Umtata became Mthata;
Another very welcome change,
But that one letter is on my mind...
Quick - cross out the "u"...in case we go insane!

Nothing is more messed up in my guide books,
Which consist almost exclusively of maps
Than the city of Durban....
Street names have changed...but "not quite yet"

I picked up a local map,
And not shown in the one I carried
- Its still in process of "changing",
So two names there are for almost every road!

Pretoria became Tshwane,
Again I agree with the name change,
But by now the maps in my book
Make so little sense - it could be mistaken for Adelaide!

I wont go into Rhodesia,
There have been so many changes across Africa,
But if they were before I was born,
It somehow doesnt seem so much to matter...

I only get frustrated with
Things that I know,
Before 1980 -
I had no maps to know.

I'd be talking about the Transkei, the Ciskei,
The Orange Free State and all,
More recent but left in the past -
I have none of those on my walls.

I focus more on Africa,
as most will know i'm a bit obsessed,
Being from a British Island on the African Plate,
...with Ascension drifting away with America...albeit very slow.

The Mid Atlantic Ridge runs between them,
From Iceland to the South Pole,
Dividing the Continental plates,
St Helena and Ascension came out of a hole...

My mind drifts a little to Asia,
Although I dont know it as well,
But...is it Burma or Myanmar now?
And is Palestine shrinking still?

Islands cause much fascination,
Being an Islander myself,
But mine is just the tip of a volcano,
The map doesnt show anything else.

As far as Islands go - the Atlantic is easy,
Try staring at the Pacific,
Such a vast and empty ocean,
Hides many secrets...more than the Atlantic.

You may think St Helena isolated,
But only till your eyes enter the Pacific,
It might be a huge mostly empty ocean,
But the vast Island chains are prolific.

There are fracture zone after fracture zone,
Creating Island chains and coral atolls;
From the Coral sea of Australia,
To the Galapagos of South America.

There's Polynesia, there's Melanesia,
Micronesia too;
And within these - hundreds of Islands...
And yes - I've tried to count them too..

We look for other British Islands,
Pitcairn - the most isolated of all;
And what a sorry story to tell..
About 60 people and half of them in jail...

Sometimes im desperately trying to find an Island
To replace my British non-British Island;
Those who think im mad loving South Africa-
Wont even begin to understand.

But this poem is not about emotion,
So i'll mention that no more,
Its more about Geography
- too many Islands to explore.

Staring at the Pacific
Can occupy at least three sleepless nights,
Remembering the names of the islands -
Is a much more difficult plight.

Most heart breaking about this Ocean,
Is the Islands being lost;
Populations having to leave,
As sea levels rise and coral islands are lost...

I think I have found my location,
or a few i'd give a try,
On a large map they simply appear as "bumps"
Surrounded by bigger Islands, and the ocean wide

Sleepless nights have drawn me to Tokelau;
A tiny territory of New Zealand;
Three beautiful coral atolls...
But oh so far from New Zealand.

Less than one thousand people,
Yet with their own language,
The closest Island is Samoa,
That boat journey for me would be a privilege...

The Island has 100% clean energy,
With so few people to sustain,
It's setting an example for the World,
Tokelau looks like "paradise" on my map....if I had to give it a new name...

Indigenous people full of colour,
Flowers round their necks and some clothes a recent thing,
They even have their own musical culture,
Its only mass worry is rising tides - and the flat atolls eventually submerging....

There is another island I look at,
With its tribal peoples far more "untouched",
It really is like a land time forgot,
Although it does have an airport..

It is the Island of "Mog-Mog"...
Yes...I didnt make that up..
It really does exist,
Although I admit it took me years to discover on my map...

I wont mention where it is,
I dont want to give it away;
My maps are full of secrets,
And that is how some should stay.

You can visit from Tahiti,
Which is more like France than its surrounds;
But Mog-Mog is a totally different world,
Dont be fooled by Tahiti - Mog-Mog is part of the "untouched surrounds"

I could talk about these Islands forever,
As even I have not discovered them all,
But I have to finish with the Indian Ocean,
The Chagos Islands are British afterall...

What happened to the Chagossians
was a cruel sin of humankind,
Not just ST Helena suffers at the hands of the British
- Chagossians were forced to leave their Isle behind...

To make way for an American Air base,
Ascension - how familiar does that sound?!
The story of the Chagossian tragedy
Must touch every Islander to be found...

The Chagossians also inspire us however,
For fifty years on they are still fighting,
Fighting to return to their homeland,
Now a heavily guarded secret is their homeland...

My people however dont seem to care,
And that does make me sad;
This is another British Island
Not in the Atlantic, or Caribbean - but that does not make it bad...

The powers at be are so evil
That even after the fifty year lease was up..
The British just signed yet another...
As for the Islanders - they just want forgot...

I support the Chagossian people,
In their desperate fight to go home,
Even after deportation-
Their British Citizenship rights are next to none...

I am not proud of my motherland either,
And im not the only one;
I dont consider myself even British,
I dont "worship" my motherland like some...

I see what is really happening,
In St Helena and other "Crown Territories",
Just take a moment to look at them all....
and let me know if you find any that are totally "free"...

....oppression comes in many forms....

........................Nomkhumbulwa...
This isnt my usual style; it was heavily influenced by a huge amount of Diazepam.  But hey - its less depressing than usual....
Vince Chul'Theg Nov 2013
He kept trying
Over, and Over, and Over
To take Her home

Being a good ****-block
Grew tiresome the more I
Drank

He started to beg Me
Because I never leave her alone
Not even on
One-night-stands

I kept telling him
He is a ****
Shut up

One last time:
Erin, come on!
"**** no!"

"I'll make you a grilled cheese."

"Yes!, let's go!"

I slept on the couch
His bathroom vanity
Is filled with anti-balding
Creams

Maybe his insecurities
Are a part of his
Slutiness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I miss Micronesia food

I wanna eat gross ramen
Greasy **** in a ***** bowl

Went to the grocery store with Jesse:
"find the cheapest ****"
White rice

I ate four bowls of it
So good

**** yes!

The kids used to fight
Knock each other around
Scrounging
Over ***** of  white rice
Even the four day old
Rotten ones

Because they were always better
Than the rotten boiled bananas

She thinks to herself:
"Nothing will ever
Be this fun again"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girls I teach with are nice
But I don't have a white-collar
Sense of humor

My humor is filthy
So I stay quiet

People at work don't know
How funny I am

Seven of them are pregnant right now
We'll be ******* in a few months

They talk about how there feet
Grow as their pregnancies progress
******* fascinating

My closest friend there in the
Kindergarten pod doesn't drink
So we only get so far
Vince Chul'Theg Mar 2013
I taught English as a Peace Corps Volunteer on a small island in the Federated States of Micronesia. The following is an account of one of my student's most treasured memories.**

'''

My most treasured memory was very sad.
We were at the hospital, everybody crying
and I just couldn’t breathe

I looked from my mother to my father
and they were both out of words
with tears streaming down their faces.

I felt like my heart was gripped so tight
I could not move a single joint.

We watched my little brother struggle
through the pain of his last breath.

I was not close with my brother;
we fought all of the time and sometimes
he just scared the hell out of me when he
lost control.

He threw everything he could reach
and hit me with anything he had in his hand.
I was just a nuisance and an annoying girl
so we were different people because
he is so speechless and very shy.

He had a very bad temper and it ruled him
when he got mad.

He was such a handsome young boy.

I stood there crying with all the other people
and he called my name.
I knelt down beside his bed and took his hand,
crying so hard I could not talk or see him
with the tears pooling and sliding down my face.

He looked at me and said
“I’m sorry about fighting and hurting you,”
barely in a whisper.

I clutched his hand even tighter.
He said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you,
I just got mad and couldn’t stop myself
from doing so.

Q, take care of mom and dad,
I can’t because I think I’m going to die.”

I was screaming at him by then
saying that he is not going to die.
Every word he said he struggled to get out.

My mom was pulling me away
but I could not be led away.

She was pleading and begging me
but I would not budge.
He was having a seizure by that time
and the doctor was with my mom pulling me away
and, for an instant, I thought my dad was going to slap me.

But he held me in his arms and told me not to cry
because everything was going to be alright.
I calmed down and knelt by the bed with my dad next to me—
he held my hand and squeezed it.
I held my brother’s hand with my other hand
and he looked at me with sad painful eyes
and everything went still.

My mom screamed and my dad froze
and I just cried even harder.

I pulled my hand from my dad and gathered
my brother in my arms and started to cry,
scream and shake him.

It took both my mom and aunt to loosen my grip on him
and my dad pulled me into his arms again.

This memory is so attached to me because
only once in my life have I been held by my dad;
slept in my mother’s arms.

And for the first time, my brother told me
comforting words and asked my forgiveness.

Everything was first-and-last because my family
blames me for my brother’s death.

I was treated so badly after that
but those moments were so comforting
beautiful and sad.

I love my family.
They just don’t love me
as much as I love them.

       My most treasured memory
       Happened when I was eleven.

       No one knows what tomorrow will bring.
       Maybe it will change.
Breeze-Mist Jun 2016
I've never had many
Problems with history class
most of it's pretty interesting
And I find it easy to pass
But the one thing I don't get
The one thing I cannot see
Is why an American high school
Has this curriculum of eurocentricity
We spent three full months
On ancient Greece and Rome
And less than a week
On the Ottomans' home
We spent one month
On Europe's rebirth
And exactly zero days
On Muslim scholars who changed the earth
We spent two full days
On the palace of Versailles
And not a single class
On Mali or Songhai
One month passed
With European exploration
But not a word was uttered
Of Timbuktu's nation
And don't get me started
On Aborigines or Micronesia
In Asia, China and India aside,
You'd think the teacher had amnesia
What I'd really like to know
Is why our curriculum
Spends most of the year
On all things European
In this melting ***
That we call America
It seems that our lesson plans
Need to be a bit fairer
I love learning about Rome and WWII, but I would also love to learn about west Africa or the Pacific.
Vince Chul'Theg Feb 2017
I have never
(and hopefully
never will be again)
Secretly in such deep
Love with someone

Piano, guitar, trumpet, drums, voice
Brilliant in his ability
To absorb knowledge
His mind a sponge

Consistently chill
Not easily riled

Persistently positive
And funny

When we met I was
An overweight, ******
Textbook closet case
Face in textbooks

Eating and smoking
To fill the void

I’d find any reason at all
To spend time with him

Tennis?
Sure!, Let’s go!

Dinner out?
Who’s driving?

Monty Hall Piano Room?
Let me spark this joint first.

What’s worse was that I
Loved (and still love and adore)
His then girlfriend

And so it was this strange
Situation where I loved
The couple, was secretly
Obsessed with the boy
And so jealous of the girl

But I was too ashamed and
Self-aware to be nasty to her
Because it wasn’t her fault

Shame so locked in my marrow
I couldn’t even project
The insecurity it created

Cristo and Lirah
Would go out for a romantic
Dinner and I’d feel
More alone in those moments
Than any other

So I’d smoke and do school work
Or walk through the woods with Nayla
Or go eat with Jireh

~~~

Side bar: So it turned out that
Jireh had a big ‘ol thing for me

I was so blind because
Of my behavioral asexuality
‘Locked in’ gayness
Love for Cristo

I may have led her on for like, years.
That’s ******.

And John had a thing for Jireh

Weird love non-triangles
All over the ******* place

- - -

We drank so much

I remember drinking every day for
The last month of my junior year
In WC14

Movie night?
Word: White Russians
Pair well with Bladerunner

My shame was so strong that
Even when I was blacked out
(Or nearly blacked out)
I could still use a Treuschler
Bathroom to ****

Then stare at myself in the mirror
And be disgusted with my
Own reflection

“You love him.
You love Cristo.”

“You’re ******* gay, bro.”
“SAY IT. "

"TO ANYONE.”

. . .

“******* coward.”

Shame slicing right
Through the shitfacedness
For self chastisement

- - -

I told him I was gay
At a club in Baltimore a few days
Before I left for Micronesia

He said: “Where are we going
for your send off?”

I said: “The Hippo.”

He said: “You know that’s a
gay bar, right?”

“Yeah, man. It’s cool.”

I told him after returning from
Peace Corps
That I’d been in love
With him in our college
Years

Cool, collected and responsive
As usual, he said:

“Thank you.”
Dave Hardin Sep 2016
Globe

A globe would be nice
By this open window
Morning pushing in on the hip
Of spring, warm from slow
Dancing against the screen
Straining the grating weave
Sifting down on the table
Settling on the milky lens of my coffee
Feathered in delicate drifts
Outline of a hand
The one I’m waving
In the air in a way
Robins might mistake
For dismissiveness
Viewed from the teeming lawn
Unaware of this imaginary globe
I spin unabashedly  
Blister of the Atlas Mountains
Scattered braille of Micronesia
Over and over, again and again
Beneath the palm of my hand
Haiphong Harbor
Hot on the heels of sprinting Havana
The world in seamless rotation
On the table of a minor god
Eyes closed waiting for you
To come round again, finger
Poised and aching above
A lonely blue planet.
Look at me! Bejesus! Flattened-plane-Earth's-marginally-Catholical mommy Mary: madre de Holy Princely Rex Christus Jesus, please
see: My troubled Kent babified doll Marie just deliberately infected
me with the ravenously-bacterial, cutaneous diphtheria that she got
in an ***** den hovel in filthy, broken-down Constantine, Algeria.**
Marushka Anya the pull along the thighs brings the space into view
of the maternal honeycomb where-from, your Mother, emerged you
in '98, upon no-man's Patagonian land that skirts Chile & Argentina
where no Java maids milk foal ******* at coal tipples in Micronesia
Marushka Anya the pull along the thighs brings the space into view
of the maternal honeycomb where-from, your Mother, emerged you
in '98, upon no-man's Patagonian land that skirts Chile & Argentina
where no Java maids milk foal ******* at coal tipples in Micronesia

— The End —