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pH7 May 2017
Raised to shine by father,
Sun
Nursed emotions by mother,
moon
Flew and sang by brother
birds
Grew larger than life,
while
ground and rooted,
with my sister
trees
Love blew,
the wind,
amongst all things being.
Diana Garcia Jul 2018
I can tell he wants me
to show him around,
take him out and show
how him how I get down.
He wants me to smile but
my face is stuck in a frown.

Boy didn’t you notice
when I tried taking you out on the town?
When we rode with my girl C,
you brought your boy V
Then the time I got into a fight that
nobody even got to see
My girl didn’t like you
I wonder, how could that be??

Once upon a time
you were down
to do anything.
Rain or shine.
Doesn’t matter what we do
as long as youre mine.
Lately it feels like youre
wasting my time.
Feels like a one way street.
All of a sudden you
don’t make me feel like a treat

You see I’ve
Taken you out
You know the
life I’m about.
Yet we still
scream and shout
cause now we never
seem to get out
At least not enough
I know at the moment
Life feels a bit rough
But we can’t be consumed
Part of us died
Let it be exhumed
Dust off our shoulders
and hit resume
Let’s start living
& forgiving
Then start stacking up it
to the ceiling
I thought you were my back up
But it’s me that you’re killing

We don’t need to go hard
or spend money at the bar
We don’t even need to go far
Let’s go to guitar center
and pretend to be stars

Im sorry for my ****** mood
But if you don’t try
We’re *******
Annoyed with how loyal I am
I want you in my future, hands made to nurture, food I'll prepare, for you are so rare.
You may say I'm young, I'm very far from dumb, my mind works fast, together we'll last.
To anon, I know it's hopeless.
dadens Mar 27
as spring awakens
so does my heart

it's been packed away for
the cold of winter

but now my heart is thawing
the soil is softening
and i need someone to plant
their flowers here

because my heart is ready
to be nurtured
to feel nourished

and to flourish into the
beautiful blossoms
that deserve to grow
in my vacant heart
© d.a.dens
Eryri Sep 2018
Nature/Nurture
Which one hurts ya?
Born a ***** or raised a *****?
Take your pick.
Mother Nature can be sick,
But so can your mother and so can your father.
Look at yer brothers
Look at yer sisters
All of 'em idiots
None of 'em got jobs
What's your prospects?
A life of desk jobs?
Nah, dealing and stealing
Taking without feeling
That's what you'll do
No dreams of being well-to-do.
You were born poor,
Raised to be poor,
Cos you're forgotten by the government,
No votes to be gained from givin' you a helping hand.
Born poor, stay poor.
No cultural capital
To help cast off the metaphorical manacles
That shackle any sense of aspiration that might give you inspiration
To defy nature
To defy nurture.
------------------------------
I'll prove ya wrong!
I was born poor for sure,
Raised poor is right,
But my folks weren't sick,
They raised me not to be a *****
My bloodline shows no decline
Just not born with entitlement,
So don't judge,
That's just ******* lazy
Don't believe the argument:
Nature versus nurture
I am me, now,
So don't get frenetic about my genetics.
I have free-will
I will pay my bills,
Not be defficient,
But be self-sufficient.
And what about you?
Sat in your Ivory Tower
Indulging in your power to judge those you don't know,
Believing them to be a product line of people scrounging,
Needing hand downs from the Crown
Doing nothing but clowning around,
Smoking dope
Being without hope.
But I will be someone,
And prove you wrong,
So put your patronising way to bed
Coz I'm not lazing away until I'm dead.
A lame comment on political and class divide.
THE NURTURE OF CULTURE

"Have you a working pulse...?"
he asks of his petunias.

They perk up at once
to Pericles.

"...she sent him away cold as a snowball..."
he whispers to his gladioli.

Once again the Pericles
does the trick.

They positively beam at him
eager for more Shakespeare.

"Oh yes...oh yes...flowers...!"
he pontificates

"...adore Shakespeare
especially Pericles and other minor plays

rather than the great Dane
or say Othello!"

I gasp hardly believing
the flower's Bardolatry.

The herbs prefer
Gilbert and Sullivan.

"Really...?"
A ha...be my guest!"

I tentatively  approach
a sprig of oregano.

It looks startled
being sung to!

"Poor wandering one
though you are sad and lonely...."
"

"No no my son...herbs
like to be spoken to...not sung!"

Ahem, I
try again.

"Poor wandering one
Though thou hast surely strayed..."

The oregano dances
in the breeze.

"Or sometimes my son
a little dash of Noël  Coward!"

"What compulsion compels them..."
I sing to the chives.

"And who the hell tells them!"
before being interrupted as before.

"No no my son
spoken not sung!"

"Why do the wrong people travel, travel travel
When the right people stay back home?"

"Excellent...excellent one
of their favourites!"

What could I say?
His voice provoked such a fecundity

that could not for a second
be doubted.

"Oh yes...oh yes when one talks
to one's garden one

must bear in mind
that flowers and herbs

prefer a little culture!"
Tanay Sengupta May 2018
Look into my eyes, do you dare? 
You will find your soul lay naked and bare.
Look beyond my intense stare, pierce through the persona I wear.

Tell me, are you scared? 
As you are face to face with your greatest fear.

Beneath my storm, lies my darkest lair.
Here everything is black and nothing seems fair.

Tell me, do you dare? 
Tell me, are you scared? 

When my passion burns like the fiery sun.
Will you hold me close or will you run? 

When I become as cold as ice. 
Would you nurture me back to life?
Or, would turn you away with the tide? 

When I let you into my watery sphere 
And you see the pain which I never share.
Will you hold me and make me your own?
Or, will you tremble and run away in fear? 

Tell me, my love, 
Do you dare?
To pierce into my eyes 
And see your soul lay naked and bare?










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
This is one of the first poems that I ever wrote in my life. I was 16 when I wrote this and didn't know where to publish it. I uploaded it on one my Facebook pages in 2014 and later in 2015, I uploaded it in writrerscafe.org. But, I deleted both. So, here I am now in Hello Poetry and this is the first poem I have to offer. It is pretty self-explanatory. To be honest, I find it a little bit childish now, I hope it is not too dark for you though. Happy reading!
ryn Jan 2015
I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight
ryn Dec 2014
You are the sky
While I'm of dirt and earth
Sharing the universe in separate realms
Conflicting factions, diverse births

I would forever look up
Rest my gaze on the tide of the air
And dream for our eyes to meet
Temporary eternity that we would share

I've cried many a teardrop
But you can never know
Because to you they never could reach
For into my core they'd only flow

But when you stare down sullenly
Your tears would fall, soaking my plane
I'd drink the drops voraciously
Those gifts of love from heaven's rain

Your tears would nurture the seeds I've planted
They'd take root and flourish in the sun
Resolve in my soil held firmly in place
Thinking our journey forth would've then begun

Roots would give birth to stem
Which in turn, would branch out into leaves
Plantling will eventually grow up high
To give back the love, it constantly receives

Such misfortune little sprout
You can only grow so tall
You can never reach that far
You and I can only kiss the drops that fall

So... My beautiful sky of azure
I am but dust on fate's heavy feet
We can only look to the faraway horizon
Only there could heaven and earth truly meet
Osiria Melody Feb 18
for hours, agonizing over every succinct detail,
in my mind, a finely crafted story comes to life

a poem, you see, takes more than adding figurative
sprinkles into a cake of esoteric, thoughts that only
i understand
perhaps, not. i could write about topics that
everyone else is doing to "fit" in. perhaps, not.
i'm just overthinking it?

i'm after becoming a poet, but not after fame
i'm after becoming a poet, but not after
making a living from its craft
i'm after becoming a poet, but not after
proudly holding copies of my own
works in book stores, to sign them

point is, i'm happy. i call myself a poet
because i breathe my creative breaths
into this life of poetry

for hours, agonizing over every
succinct detail,
in my mind, a finely crafted story
comes to life

a poem,

my brainchild that i nurture.



Melody
2/18/19
My poems are my brainchildren.
patty m Mar 16
Patching bits together
to nurture an idea,
all matter of things take shape.  

Spheres of emotions
see red turn blue,  
becoming complete,
as we embrace the world with velvet kiss
coming alive,
learning to feel.

Land of dreams
a Utopia of ethereal colors
descend to Terre Firma.  
Dusty black,  Celestial Pink and lavender,
sunbeams spread their treasure
coppery yellow.
Mere perception recites a line of verse,
savor it slowly, this golden ecstasy drunk
with glory.  
The improbable becomes reality
when thought appears on paper.
Mark Grover Oct 2010
your untouched sheets are crisp and clean like a razor

your vacant pillow floats on the bed before me like an empty lifeboat

the absence of your breath is deafening

you left me Nothing and now it is all i have

i will cling to it
i will nurture it
i will feed it with what is left of me
until it grows strong enough to consume me

then i will be free of the Nothing you left to me
Eliza Jan 2018
I dare you to celebrate yourself
To declare your worth
Like you have a child growing
Inside your body
Nurture your soul
Like an infant is watching
And listening ready to recycle it all
Practice peace and forgiveness
For yourself alone
Befriend patience time and time again
Notice your heart beat
And your desires and don't neglect them
Take pride and be joyful
Step gracefully into new opportunities
Stay safe like a baby is in your care
Like another part of you is out there
In this world trying to do you proud
Respect yourself for survival
Show no strength without weakness
And no weakness without strength
Allow your thoughts to travel
Recognise your flaws and truth
Accept control as an illusion
Give your mind time to be
Own that you are a woman
Responsible, brave, loving and free
Saphira Rose Dec 2018
And she left her there on the hillside crying out...
Crying out...
Don't leave me here alone...
Please don't leave me alone!
I'm your child, you are my mother, I need you, you are the nurturer.
I'm crying, I'm in bitter pain, you know my worst fear is being alone.

loneliness, loneliness! oh, oh you've come to see me off dear loneliest, haven't you?

The crisp clean air that I have been breathing is slowly tainted with poisoned smoke...
oh, though all smoke is tainted with fear
Come back again and meet me here, for now I am HAUNTED... with fear.
It's not my best but still I put my heart into it.
This was inspired because my mom abandoned me on a hillside before, and I did grow up in a house full of smoke, didn't find out until I was older that smoke is basically poison to my sensitive lungs. I found out the hard way though, so here you go.
mariamme May 2018
i feel so hollow;
echoing cries bounce
off the scraped bone
free of lifeblood
picked clean & still stained
by my river of red
the intangible flood
collected in porcelain
flushed down drains
motherhood, not for me

& i chose freedom
at the cost of loss
of little fingertips & teeth
not because i fear life
i fear loss of life
and the pain of this world

i too was a child, broken
born of blood & bird bones
too skinny to nurture
high as a kite but never free
i saw my way out
and took the loss instead

i'll never set myself free
if it brings you into this world
my darlings of bird bones
and little fingertips
born of blood & brokenness
but safety is yet yours.
be free without me.
Ira Aug 2018
Hellfire rummages everything,
It burns and melts even the toughest of items.

It can pop up from nowhere or be planted like a seed.
No matter the cause, we always have heed.
We can ignore it and walk on,
Or try to expulse from our own.

The problem is it never can be completely put out.
It always has a little sprout.

Yet many can't except it,
And die in their trek to rid the writ.

Some of us even try to nurture it in hopes of making it good.
But few ever could.

Hellfire may rummage everything,
But it burns different with each item.
Somethings are overtaken and burn to ash.
Other tame it and leave it as that.

Hellfire may always burn you,
But it can always be tamed.
You just must do the obvious to calm the flame.
It's quite a interesting poem. BUT THE **** IS IT ABOUT -
Everyone who read this
L Jun 21
Paper dreams
Im the fiend.

Among the thoughts inside my head
You tiptoe through and head to bed.

Oh, the dread.
It eats away all night and day.
No keeping it at bay for i have no say.

I never really did. Lead to believe i had a foot in the door but what more, what a bore. The things in store. A blink and a breath later and its in my mouth.

Bitter words and acid truth. The lies taste as sweet as they smell fresh from my oven.

Aroma carried far in the breeze. Pollinating your thoughts and breeding my children.

I live on through them. And yet they are false.

And so the question remains.
Am i still here?
Nature nurture love and hurt death and life and kids.

I never really cared for them. But they seem to always like me well enough.
ELK Jan 19
Remember that have to nurture your own light
before it can shine
Even if you are empty
even if there is no one to hold your hand
You'll find that a different kind of strength
comes from what you go through
alone.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
You are strong. You are brave. You are here. It will be over soon.
Hold yourself until the tears dry.
Hold yourself until you feel your soul gain some of the weight
it lost.
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