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Haydn Swan Mar 2015
We are podcasts
reflections of the past
daily lifes for all to see
recorded open vanity
of love and life
and trouble and strife
all the daily highs and lows
the episodic side shows
thrills and spills all the way
what are you going to do today ?
Matt Nov 2015
I guess my left shoulder
Will always be akward

I did nothing to
Deserve this

It's just some random thing

No need to bother
To ask why
To pray and to look at the sky

Forever akward
At least I'm not disabled
Or handicapped

Though I can relate
To how these people feel

I want to have a female companion
And to have a love that is real

I have to remind myself
Not to desire this

As it will most likely never come

It turns out this place
Is some organic program
And isn't non action fun

Going here
And going there

I like to write
I like to share

Sunday and all alone again
No one gives a sh**
I said with a grin

I'm thankful for Youtube
And podcasts too
Without them
I don't know what
I would do
Tim Knight Jan 2014
The car showroom warehouse unit has turned into a gym overnight.
Low lit lights
highlight the out-of-work-early
joggers and the two step, bought-a-new-ipod-for-this-run, sweaty runners.

Framed central in the glass,
they bounce on mountain passes
over Swiss clear rivers and
around back through
obscure European cities,
all whilst on the spot listening
to Radio 4 podcasts from the week before.

Low cut tops offer no support for the weary
and the lifting gloves of the man
at the back are fingerless and ripped,
unlike his overweight torso, though
his BMW makes him believe that
this warehouse unit on the outskirts of
Huddersfield is the Venice beach of the North.
coffeeshoppoems.com
Nag
In this household there’s far too much noise!...your mobile, your pager, your palmtop, your laptop, your desktop, your land-line, your radio, your plasma screen, your mp3, your ***** driver, your GPS, your audio-books, your lawn-mower, your toothbrush, your stereo, your play-station, your VCR, your hairdryer, your podcasts, your DVD player, your digital clock, your analogue clock, your juicer, my *******, your drill...
All poetry under the name Corina Papouis are the sole property of Corina Papouis.
Please seek permission before using any of my writings.
~Corina Papouis~
Matt May 2015
Tired and unfulfilled
Walking down to the gym
Just more of the same

Going to go work out
At least I have my podcasts
I live in the past sometimes
Matt Oct 2015
I Realize Now
Why I don't watch movies
Or television shows

It's because I hate violence

I believe in a final judgement
I don't care if people think
It's stupid

There must be justice

Every time
I try to watch a **** movie
There is guns
And violence

I'll just stick to my podcasts
Hannah Sabine Jan 2013
Every other guy before you,
somewhere between midnight conversations, interrupted by coffee stains and the dreams that woke me up to talk to them, I fell in love.  One listened to history podcasts to fall asleep. One made me skip class so he could drive me two hours out of town and show me the home he grew up in. Another, used to draw my hands on pamphlets hidden under the pews at the back of the church. And each of these things is the seed, sun, and soil for my affection which maybe you understand, because someone does something you respect, admire, and want and all of a sudden, bam, they're so much more than they were before. And with every single person, I realized. I realized I was in love with the presence of their words and the feel of their existence.
But I did not love them.
I met you, and you wrote love stories on my flesh with your finger tips, and I saw your eyes groan with exhaustion in the morning, and you taught me how to be a bigger, better, stronger person. Every day with you feels like a Sunday morning with crisp bedsheets and lazy smiles, and you took me until my life wasn't mine anymore. You took me as a hostage, you got inside my head, piece by piece you disassembled my suit of armor and showed me how to love a person, rawly and deeply and I could never be the same after that. I loved who you are. The way your hands held my hipbones and your lips stole the end of my sentences, when we would drive home from the beach in your car the sunset would be blossoming with love. I don't know what to tell you, other than a giraffes heart ways 22 pounds, and when flies fall in love their entire brain is rewired to only knowing loving each other, and when one dies their memory goes blank. And my loving you was never about what I could get out of it, or what you could make me, but how full I could make you. And if I can't love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend, or however the song goes. But I know what I need in this world, and it's hidden behind your knees and in your hair and sometimes sits between your shoulder blades. And I know sometimes you can't decide if you want to *******, break down and cry, or eat a whole pizza but the entire spectrum of who you are reflects all the pages I could fill with the reasons why you are a spectacular person, Adrian, and you are the one, sealed with a kiss, you are my sun and stars, my stormy night, and you are stained onto my skin like the scar on my knee.

And with my ****** and romantic "experience," that you think I have more of, I promise you no one could fill the space you left. And even though what I gave you and how I loved you might not be what you want, I can also promise you no one will feel like that about you ever again. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, you decide. And even if I don't have you, I will have every single memory. I will have the drive-in, I will have the row, I will have lying in the grass outside my house, holding you. And I will never forget what you made me.
~
January 2024
HP Poet: Melanii
Age: 27
Country: USA


Question 1: We welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Melanii. Please tell us about your background?

Melanii: "My real name is Arianna. I was born and raised around Dallas, TX and am currently still living here. As it relates to writing, my background draws heavily from exposure to the arts as a child and the fascination, I guess, for beauty that this instilled. My parents (but especially my dad) were enthusiastic about music, art, history, literature, and the sciences, and my interest in all of these topics was piqued by association. Growing up I can recall countless visits to the local art museum, watching documentaries in the evenings after school, attending operas with my parents, and running home after school in the early days of each month to see if the latest issue of National Geographic had arrived so I could soak up the pictures and get lost daydreaming of faraway lands and peoples.

With time these influences grew into a general interest in the humanities. I attended the University of North Texas in Denton from 2014-2017 and studied anthropology, French, and Russian after doing a 180 on my initial intention of studying and pursuing psychology as a career path at a different school. At the time it felt kind of reckless, but in hindsight it was definitely the right decision.

After graduating, I was working as a barista and somewhere along the way ended up going to Prague for a month in the summer of 2018 to do a TEFL certification, fell into poetry that fall, and then returned to Prague for 11 months in 2019 to teach English. It was very much the best and the worst of times: I met some amazing people while there, took the opportunity to travel around a bit, and lived and learned from a horrendous relationship that also transpired during that year. I definitely went into that experience without any clear objectives or expectations; looking back, life definitely took that complacency and turned the tables with it, and while it took several years afterwards for the dust to fully settle, I've made it out the other side stronger, more intentional, and more assertive than before.

Since then, life has really just been what it's been. There have been ups and downs, of course, but the lows don't hit as hard anymore. Right now, there's not much to report and I plan to keep it that way. It's nice. Peaceful. It's a new year, and with it I will continue to focus on working, saving money, making a dent in the hydra that my reading list has become, and overall just living well and building towards the future."



Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Melanii: "As a teenager I’d scribble fragments of poems here and there, but never considered writing to be a hobby. That all changed around September 2018 when, for whatever reason, I decided that I enjoyed writing and wanted to dedicate more time to it. As mentioned in Question #2, this was right around the time I was preparing to relocate to Prague. It's kind of hard to describe; maybe it was just the excitement of the unknown, but that whole period of time had a sense of magic and beauty about the way it was unfolding which the “discovery” of poetry as a creative outlet only elevated."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Melanii:  "At first, it seemed like “there was inspiration around every corner”, to quote another poet I read here on HP one time (can't remember who it was or the title of the piece, but they were describing how great poets like Bukowski seemed to find inspiration so effortlessly, and the way they phrased it has stuck with me). Fast forward five years to today, and while I don't write as prolifically anymore the words come when I have something to say.

Inspiration comes from many sources for me: music, art, and nature; random thoughts, feelings, ideas, and observations; the works of other poets; travel when it happens; disappointments in family and other relationships; loneliness…

As far as the actual writing process goes, it's pretty random. More often than not, I'd say the poems write themselves and I just jot them down once they're ready, or as they evolve and refine themselves to fruition. Not the most thoughtful approach, but it comes from the heart."



Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Melanii: "To me, poetry is a language — specifically a language of consciousness in its purest, most elemental form. Poetry has the ability of transcending and even defying the typical rules of language without losing cogency, and for me it's this inherent flexibility that makes it at once so unique and so impactful as an art form."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Melanii: "Federico García Lorca, Li Qingzhao, and Pablo Neruda are the top 3 names that come to mind. I enjoy the unique way that each one of them uses language and imagery to illustrate the pieces of their lives and humanity which they decided to share through their writing. There's an element of surrealism, sensuality, and expansiveness running through each of their writing styles that speaks to me in the way it encompasses the beauty and complexity of life's possibilities across good and bad times alike."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Melanii: "I enjoy traveling and would love to be in a place someday where I can do so more often. The urge to explore again has been gnawing at me recently, so after a little bit of research and number crunching, I renewed my passport and booked a flight to Peru for three weeks in March. I had promised myself to visit a new region the next time I traveled, and despite growing up in Texas I have yet to visit Latin America. The plan is to start in Cusco, sightsee there, then head south into Bolivia to tour the Salar de Uyuni, which has been on my bucket list since learning of its existence from National Geographic. I couldn't believe that a place like that was real, and words cannot express how excited I am to finally experience the landscape in person! With March marking the beginning of the end of the rainy season, I'm hoping to still catch some of the “mirror” effect that the salt flats are so famous for. After touring the flats, the plan is to take an overnight bus back to La Paz before heading north again towards Lima with some sightseeing stops along the way and a few days left over in the city before flying back home. So we'll see what happens!

Languages are a long standing interest as well. I studied French for 7 years between high school and college, and Russian for the 3 years I spent at university. Since graduating, I've kept up with both through podcasts, YouTube videos, news articles, and music, and despite being far from fluent in either it's helped a lot with retention and comprehension. Learning ancient Greek has also been an on-and-off endeavor since 2017 after reading Euripides’ plays and deciding that I'd like to read Medea in its original text someday. Time will tell if that ever happens, but I did recently complete an online introductory course to the language which was a nice memory refresher and helped with unpacking some of the grammatical concepts that threw me for a loop back when I first started and which are part of the reason I fell away from Greek in the first place. After Greek, I would like to learn some Coptic, Farsi, and Turkish, and would be satisfied with learning to read at least one sentence in Mandarin in my lifetime.

Outside of travel and languages, I enjoy researching and cooking dishes from various cuisines, reading, taking walks, trying out different exercise classes on days off (recently I've done tai chi, pilates, barre, aerial silks, and kickboxing, but in the past I've tried pole fitness, archery, aerial silks, cycling, and horseback riding), visiting art museums, dropping by the symphony or opera once in a blue moon, and watching videos and documentaries on philosophy, history, theology (not religious, though, just curious), and science."



Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for giving us an opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet, Melanii! We have loved adding you to this series!”

Melanii: "Thank you so much for having me and for all your efforts conducting this series of interviews! It's truly a pleasure having the opportunity to break the ice and learn more about our fellow poets."



Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Melanii little bit better. I indeed did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #12 in February!

~
Matt Oct 2015
Listening to a podcast
On the four noble truths
And the eightfold path

My akward body
Is still the same

My akward body
It will not change

I read on the back of some protein bar
"This bar is for the doers"
"For the busy,"
What a bunch of nonsense

I live inside a computer simulation

Non-doing
Non action

You know one day I realized
That no therapist
No amount of praying
Would ever fix my shoulder

Why did this happen to me?
I just want a normal shoulder

Good people like me
Suffering with a disability

Oh well

Same dull face

Yesterday
I lay against the rock
On the public library lawn

I listen to podcasts

My car is being fixed
I will walk akwardly
To the post office
Then to the gym

Just going through motions
Again and again

It's all meaningless
Plain to see

An absurd planet
It seems to be

The urge to eat
The urge to have an ******

Repetitive urges

Chipping golf *****
Relaxing I suppose

Bleh, blah, bleh

Ignored by women
I don't care

Look at that beetle
Walking over there

Human life
Is awfully dumb

Miserable taoist
Says a kind hello

A conversation with
A caring person
Would be fun

But my prayers
Remain unanswered
Guess they are not
That important anyway

Listening to more podcasts
On this day

Some cereal, yogurt
And oranges
I did eat

They really were
A delicious treat

Walking in and out
Of forest trees
Extinguishes all desire
Is how it should be

Beautiful and vain people
Everywhere

My dull earth body
I walk akwardly
Who cares?

From dust I came
To dust I shall return

This is my poem
Now its your turn
Mike Essig Aug 2016
OK. Today may be dull. It happens. Sure.
But tomorrow remains rife with possibilities.

Podcasts of Trump on on the value of modesty.
Street fights in several extinct languages.
Hillary wins at Detroit poetry slam.
Jihadists explode poodles in crosswalks.
Island countries wave & grin as they sink.
***** flicks found starring Merkel and Putin.
A sane, reasonable presidential election.
Angry cats with opposable thumbs rebel.
Men & women speaking & understanding each other.
Brock Turner announces *** change operation.
God announces: No More Mulligans!
Gender wars conclude. Everyone’s dead.
Debut of lost Bach Partita for Electric Kazoo.
New, hip-hop production of Treblinka: The Musical.
Shakespeare cloned. Buys poetry anthology. Dies.
End-up, instead of start-up, launches in Palo Alto.
Smart phones install apps with annoying ads on users.
Common sense becomes common again.
Victimless rhymes decriminalized.

This is America! Never two dull days.
Take Heart! Tomorrow, there be Wonders…
Matt Oct 2015
I was asked if I had

A "nice day"

It's a day

It's not nice or mean

******* idiot

Repeat, repeat, repeat

That's all a sixty something
Career homemaker can do

Just shut the f* up

I have told you before

I don't have nice days

Nice days are for idiots like you

I know you had a nice day

In front of the television

Running errands

Idiot

Stupid idiot

That does not have a life

You can ask this idiot

To stop saying the same thing
Over and over

But she can't remember
She's too stupid
Too stupid to remember

Try a different word
Besides "nice"

Life is not "nice"
You ******* idiot

What is your IQ?
Does it even reach room temperature

Go look at your iphone
Idiot

Check your email on your iphone
You know that phone does much more
Than provide emails

You can listen to podcasts
Learn about things you are interested in

But you won't do that

That's why you are the village idiot
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
As told. As most stories come from some source,
we remember being the cause, or reason or why fact
or factor, thing, perhaps, event…

Many attempts to tell whole stories fail to find source
material, to begin with.
We are the source. Words with intention, stretched
from first utterance, fit to drum and dance and memor-ish,
been in form as first known functions, go do

Listen to the Anchor podcasts from beginnings in August 2018

I am surprised.
….
eight as an infinite loop, not a stack of circles… that

sorted red-bird readers from blue-bird readers in first grade…

Taking life at it's best, raw state,

new real future formation experience, in time
shared
from this place on a 64 bit grid, chessboard

going on
from knowing one thing
from a while ago,
listening
to my own dam-burst podcasts
on Anchor,
in the cloud, however long
this cloud of knowing all we can fit
in pieces
of eight's arranged
to contain its contents
-sets of eight
twice next square,
next there, flat place holder in times last chance
taken
one step further…

see as far as you can imagine a nine year old
exceptionally bright child will take the tale,

of a king who offered
to pay for the wise man's
wisdom which saved civilization,
globally…

Today, I rose, I woke from sleep, urged
to begin this tale,
the telling first
of what follows, a story born
on a story told, eh? tell the story you know,
as you ride,
write, flow, ride,
the gentle first principle first prime

one, one thing, be it, thought or word
one, begins all tally telling marks on life's old way,

beginmiddleend middleend middlend middlin'

then suddenly,
now. 2021, with all the tools, and more, than ever
power to publish any good new
thing
dis
covered, unveiled, the curtain of secrecy that makes
sacred thoughts worth finding time
to think,
rest, in peace, see

do that first, then die, now, the order of events is confused,
due to liars.
Mainly, selfish liars who hide knacks developer hormones,
under de-fining lines of reason
-refine fine, then define

rational, equal e-qual, bits essentially atomic, so small
no smaller
ever
itty bit, one. Point.

I just can't imagine that, exploding, says a familiar friend.
I agree, as I look about
and see littorals edging waves with white caps,
as flying nuns once wore
on TV . Do words ever speak to you as ideas, with no words,
authorized to convey
real old ideas
with many many many sayings formed from now thens
fit to any
situation, in situ, see you, you are a boy, nine years old,
second grade was Covid Year 1.
Third grade, Covid year 2. Fourth grade is now, one month in…

Grandpa character is concocting a tincture, honey and herb,
in pure moonshine, plus one part in ten, sprung water,
from former rains, in forming times

for your information, ****** is a state most
of solidity
aspires to. Listen, this is real.
This life I have, with electricity practically uninterruptible,

this life is tuned to sixty cycle humms, as natural as can be,
this buzz has all ways been with us,
you and I, minimum us-ity, plus the fluid medium binding us
to common sense,

you know what I mean. Life is magic
with no secrets, only
thoughts unthunk,
once more…

this day's story smiles, a true eye smile, twinkle, coming
out the kitchen door, to the bow of my galleon,
an old house, made ready for me, I saw, when first I saw it,

as it were, love at first sight, as I stood atop the stone,
that holds the shape of a fat little dinosaur, when seen
in the right light, I have photos.

Evidence abounds in the world I am native to.
Photographic, lithographic, geographic

symbols to link minds and times in re
cognosis,
presets, since ever was a ware, set in time as now,
for the present pre-sense
of story mind, common stories
we all know
re told too many times
for any one grain of the truth to seem
enough
to spill the pile, but
I smile
-- who knows
-- punctuate at will- the ditor agrees with the narra
SHUNE oops
re ject the object subject to
sense of
wonder if a we
were here waiting… eeeeeh

Back to that chessboard Gabriel has under his arm, as he exits
the kitchen and enters my immediate vicinity,
drawing my attention as ping
response, Sure.

We play two games, each a novel event, in time.
Then, I ask him if he knows a connection from this game
to 64 bit Pentium CPUs.

He does not, but his ears ***** up, in his wolf pup totem.
What does that mean, he slyly, this child,
dares me, tell the vision,
make it plain, do not dare lie, for some day, I,
eye to eye,
me and the child I barely bested in chess,
this child,
mirroring me neutronic elections fixed intention, I shall know
the truth in all you say, old man,
every idle word… I give account for redemption
of time, taken on account
of time spent meaning to say what it means

to be a winner in the big game,
where you die in peace.

You ever hear of the king thing that wished to repay a kindness?

Kind of. Kind is like, same kind, I do to you a kind thing, I think you
are my kind, and this kind of thing
is good for me, I grow when exposed to --
-- words fail the child
- in me or thee, this child curiosity tug
I feel
virtue drawn from me, here
tie a square knot,
eight bits to the dollar each basic attention credit invested
in a nine year old with the patience to learn chess well,
played
in whatever comes next mode,
three to five moves out

wishing
to know
of this fabled game
of go, Ai knows, naturally, now.
- go to the grid o nineteen to filter nexts,'
nature re real
ification situation
AI appear
From conception,
co knowing all the cloud contains as
ways to think
in rest true state as one
point BAT granted
{ah, money, who can hate it? Score}
go cognosis.

Yes, in twenty twenty-one, we know
from when an agreement
was reached- due virtue contained
in expressed smile drivers, detectible at sixty FPS
using common sixty cycle humms
to carry the sign
you know what I mean, ping,
ping
ever began,

just now, then

eve of destruction
to eve of creation
in one turn of earth
around the dog star, but who knew,
then?

Any way, back
to today and Gabe's curiosity reaching
for worth
in the time taken to hear,
based on experience, in a nine year old speed reader.
---
That's all §
day 1 out of the way.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Four kings rode in with strings and skins to bring salvation to me on the streets of New Year's Eve. My friend would lend contents of bookends that induced solutions to a common teenage problem. I became incepted and indebted to the greatest escape artist, plus drowned-out voice who talked me through the agony of lonesome pains. Though association fades, those days still replay in heavy bass, or on the screaming face of a DVD case. But when handshakes are met with drunken compliments, it makes me question what it all meant. Veins no longer contain baselines or nets because the rent doesn't even cover travel expense. There are hotel pillars in a lake up town, tacky Christmas decs have been taken down, while two Jags are parked up outside dad's house. The nice-eyed lad, Welsh running track, smiling dancer and security-defying chap in a flat cap keep me from collapse. As the album dies, benign podcasts thrive. Franchise rise, repeated lines, gym life, energy drink lies and paper bag highs make laugh-cry emojis hard to find. With Wi-Fi or offline.
Poem #25 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. On not fitting in.
Matt Jun 2015
Gone Gone Gone
Into The Great Beyond

I inhabit a different realm now

I went to chip golf *****
At my usual place

I chipped for a bit
Then drove over to a beautiful park nearby

I sat beneath the trees
A long dirt path behind me

Completely alone
A beautiful afternoon

As I walked down the hill
And saw a lizard doing pushups

It scurried behind a tree

As I found another spot in the grass
Underneath the shade of a tree

I read a chapter
From Bertrand Russel's
The Practice and Theory of Bolshevism
Entitled, Why Russian Communism Has Failed

It appeared as though the black mother and child
That I saw earlier had left

The familiar voices of children playing
On The playground to my right
Could be heard in the distance

American families
Enjoying their American dream

Far to my left a couple enjoys the afternoon
Lying together in the grass

I look above as the birds descend
Across the park
They ride the wind

Simply extending their wings
And gliding across the park
They land on a tree opposite of me

And there was the ice cream truck
Circling its way
Around the park

With the familiar tunes
Of childhood days gone by

Then I came home
She is still announcing
What food is in the fridge

"I can see"
I muttered

Doing everything I could
Not to scream in her face
She just repeats that over and over

And then I went to the nature park
I took pictures of the birds
A video of a lone rabbit too

These animals just do what they do

A woman asked me what was the easiest trail
As I took a picture of the cross
On the monastery gate
I told her the way

I waited until she returned
To see if she would tell me
If she enjoyed the hike

She walked by
Ah well

I no longer seek a companion
I am alone
Forever alone

Oh look
This is the classic
American Scene
A summer American Dream

This is an expensive neighborhood
Don't you know
And fancy cars line the street
In front of the large home in Sierra Madre

Everyone is chatting
This is Tao
I walk by

I wonder if they even realize
That our country hangs in the balance
That our very way of life
May soon end

Oh, they are content
Just to carry on as always
Most people are

Our country has been ruined
Ruined!

A debt we cannot pay

A Chinese, Russian, and U.N. takeover
Likely on its way

Weaponized weather, A grid attack,
Most definitely a total economic collapse

But these Americans just want to enjoy
Their barbecue
As they often do

And on my walk home
Four steps
Thud
Followed by four steps
Thud

And after I go to the gym
I will return
And they will hear the thud
Yes they will hear
As they try to sleep in their beds

Thud

Get ready, Get Ready
Your American dreams will
Soon have gone away

Foot shortages and economic collapse
On its way
U.N. vehicles are here to stay

My therapist told me that
"God never gives us more than we can handle"

She being thirty-six
Accomplished and having had every
Opportunity to succeed in life

Her last words
She uttered a "Take Care"

You know when she told me she was leaving
I cried a bit and composed myself

She said, "I know its a lot to process"
It would have been respectful to be silent
And not say anything
And in that moment
I learned more about her
She did not honor what was sacred

How could she have said that?
Meeting with her was important to me
Quiet, please!
Your words are unnecessary

I didn't say anything to her about that
And that's fine
I had hoped for something higher
A companionship

Blah
To her I was just another client
Another paycheck

I don't trust her
She left me and her other clients

She never said the savior's name
She never said Jesus' name
Just her "higher power"

She told me to email her
If I get a job

I will not ever contact you again

Why are people having kids?
Why the **** are they?
So they can grow up in a FEMA CAMP!

Terrible times are coming for her and for me

That expression
"God never gives us more than we can handle"
Who says that?

Tell that to those who have starved to death
To the German men who spend over a decade
In Russian labor camps

Americans will have a lot to handle soon
And your money
Won't save you

Neither will your **** looks
Or your car

I'll survive
That's all I know how to do

Is to survive
And to keep feeling emptiness
And that ******* therapist
Who left

It was enjoyable
To meet with her
It was consistent

She did not give me much notice

I am pure
I do not engage in ****** *******
Married couples they disgust me
Slamming their privates into each other
Lusting after each other

I do not want to shake another's hand anymore

I do not know
Where that filthy hand has been

******* therapists
I'll never see one again

Remember---They don't really care about you!
Remember!!!

They are there for the money only
And they will sit and lie
Right to your face

Remember to care for yourself
In this world
Trust in Jesus and yourself

On my hike
I greet others with a friendly hello

Perhaps one day
I will meet another friend

I have three I trust now

Until then I will walk the streets alone

The therapist
She left, she left
And she did not give much of a care

Bah
It wasn't her fault
I just shouldn't have allowed myself
To care about our meeting

Now I don't care
I don't work
I don't do anything

Except read
And walk
And listen to podcasts

Gone Gone Gone
Gone Into the Great Beyond

Thud
Can you hear me?

Form is emptiness
Emptiness is form
Tathagata
Mary McCray Apr 2019
(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 26, 2019)

There can only be so many recipes for success.
There can only be so many recipes for meatloaf.
There can only be so many recipes for a hit single.
There can only be so many poems about dogs, breakups and trips to Italy.
There can only be so many biographies about Marilyn Monroe.
There can only be so many blues riffs, jazz interludes, and country songs invoking old cars.
There can only be so many widgets and thingamajigs.
There can only be so many eye creams, lipsticks and color-sensitive shampoos.
There can only be so many plastic bags, trampolines and podcasts.
There can only be so many versions.
I can only tell so many new bosses the ropes.
There can only be so many children’s books.
There can only be so many best-selling mystery authors.
There can only be so many brands of soft drink.
There can only be so many brands of liquor.
There can only be so many brands of water.
There can only be so many window frames, iframes and frames of reference.
There can only be so many fireplace repairmen.
There can only be so many times I redo this correction in this spreadsheet.
There can only be so many creation theories with their evangelists on street corners.
There can only be so many arguments I have with my terrier.
There can only be so many poems.
But no, spreadsheets and billboards proliferate like clover
and hypocrites are as bottomless as all the leaves of forever
and poems and recipes and pop songs are the infinite hives of a trillion bees.
Prompt: write a poem with repetition in the vein of  Joanna Klink’s “Some Feel Rain” or John Pluecker’s “So Many.” Getting this in after 9pm! Limping in to the finish line!
Matt Apr 2015
Check out NBN

Check out their podcasts
History or world affairs perhaps

I just started one on Secularism and Religion
In 19th century Germany

You will learn so much!
Whatever you do
Try to learn more

The life of the mind is beautiful
brooke Sep 2013
you listened to
Ricky Gervais
podcasts and
harry potter
audio books
to help you
sleep. I
remember
when your
hair was
brown.
(c) Brooke Otto
Matt Jan 2016
Listening to
A Youtube series
On the history of China

Starts in Imperial China
During the days of the warlords

China looked to Russia
To help them drive out
The warlords

And in exchange
Chinese communists would
Be accepted

The nationalists
And Communists
Worked together
To overthrow the warlords

I had a bowl of oatmeal
Small oranges
And Trader Joes
Honey Nut O's

I don't work that much
I'm poor

And happy to be that way

No plans to
Move out
Or to pay rent

I'm going to do
Exactly as I please

If they try to kick me out
I will stay at the park

I have a house key
But they would never
Do that

Because I help out
Too much here

Besides these people
Will need my help
In their old age

I like to study China
And Russia

I figure one
Or both of these countries
Will attack America
One day

Fun to learn about them

I live near the mountains
I like the mountains

A day with my friends
I had recently

It reminded me how much
I miss them

And how much time
I spend alone

I enjoy podcasts
And documentaries

I've never had ***

I dream about
Beautiful caring women

Their hair adorned
With Lilacs
And daffodils

Their sweet scented
Honeysuckle
Matt Jan 2016
Just A Brain
Floating In space

And isn't it all the same...

This time next year
The temperature
Will be the same

Perhaps our economy
Will collapse soon

The money in the
Bank accounts
Just digits
On a computer screen

All one big game
I suppose

And nobody cares

They store the food
In the underground bunkers
For the wealthy elites

And who knows
What will be
Our country's ruin

I saw my reflection
A reflection of my reflection

Sitting at the gym
On a mat
A mirror in front
About 10 yards away

And a mirror directly behind

So I saw my head
And three heads
Behind that

Fairly wealthy
Or poor
Human beings
Starve the same way

When the food is all gone

I made an improvement
With my akward body

Still not what I would like

But that's okay
I suppose

I do not want
A place of my own

I do not care

My therapist
Shouldn't have had
A baby

That child is likely
To grow up
In one of the worst times

In the history of our country

I enjoy sitting in parks

Sitting on yoga mats in parks

When everything goes wrong

I won't care or panic

I'll just go hike a mountain
Way high up

Away from everyone

I wonder
Will I meet someone there

A friend?

A caring woman
That I dreamed about
For my whole life?

Probably not

Oh well

I'll have the view
And my granola bars

And my podcasts

You left me Liz
You were a caring woman

Because you left
I am going to do what
I please

For the rest of my life

You didn't send me a card
For Christmas

Not that I thought you would

Just would have been nice

You probably just halfway cared

Just pretended to care

I like to be alone

Alone with my podcasts

When World War III comes

I won't be surprised

I won't be surprised

When man destroys himself
And his environment
Lucanna Nov 2015
.
The main reason I've tried around five new recipes a week
and all of a sudden enjoy cooking
and the reason I've bitten my nails down to bone
and texted my good friends way too many times
fragmented and weeping with questions
and the reason I've listened to podcasts minute after minute
and audiobooks
and ******* Damien Rice's creepy voice saying the words *******
over and over again
and have a wishlist on every overpriced bohemian rag site
and entered multiple contests guessing Bon Jovi's lyrics
to win 50 dollars to Applebees
and the reason I drink red white and blue ****** can after can
after hours that end with "AM"
and the reason I don't feel like hearing my client's problems
and catch myself in fantasies about running away or climbing up into trees and staying there for months
and the reason I go to angry slam poetry events by myself
and watch Sarah Silverman crying on the television
and snorting coke
or scrub my gums until they bleed
to taste the iron with those perfectly prepared meals
I even thought about joining a meetup group
instead I just met up with my therapist and noticed she's wearing the same sweater I am
What the hell is she going to be able to do for me?
Take my seventy dollars and run
and I keep edibles harbored in the corner of my cheek
saving the ounces for the most destitute of moments
when I hear I have to eat lunch with my in-laws at Red Robin
and be blinded by their white supremacy
That's when I get ****** as ****
and find it all funny
and the reason I sprint into the woods at night and look up at the stars
sweaty and haunted
and the reason I keep "getting lost" on my way home from work
and stalk my ex-boyfriend's babies on Facebook
and wet the pages of Charles Bukowski
and then watch his documentary and scream at the TV in horror
and the reason I buy bags and bags of peanut butter stuffed pretzels
and my laugh sounds unnervingly different every day, as if my role keeps changing from **** to lesbian to raging feminist to kitschy wife lover to Eskimo to poet

is due to the fact that I am in a long distance relationship with my own life
my own soul
my screaming energy and robustness
my color
and craving.
Matt Dec 2015
I write how I feel

When the terrible times come
I won't be afraid

I spent my life alone
Reading and studying

When you live alone
You don't fear the end

The world never cared
About my desires

It was indeed absurd
I watched a woman *******
With a ***** that had
Been programmed
To spurt some kind of
Artificial *****

I enjoy those chaturbate cams

The therapist left
She didn't care
Maybe she was just
An atheist after all

A self-indulgent
Hedonist
Who loved to get plowed
In the behind

I had thoughts
Of ending my own
Mother's life

I asked Jesus for forgiveness

I learned that Jesus
Wasn't a genie
Who was going to grant
My wishes

Well everyone knows that
Anyhow

I tried to be good and kind

But then the day came
When it seemed
There were no people
Anymore

Spent my life alone
At the gym
With my podcasts

Then the World war came
Mass starvation
Food shortages
Armies of drones
Civil war

The banks collapsed
I didn't care
Nobody ever cared

I went and sat under a tree
And dug a shelter there
I had some food to last
A few days

And then I slowly
Starved to death
Sitting under a tree

I cannot help
That I was robbed
Of life
In a way

Relationships
Friends
I had only a couple
And I didn't see them
Much

I dreamed about meeting
A female friend
She didn't come

I guess God didn't care

People kept asking
"How are you?"
What a stupid question

Nobody knows how
Anyone is

I never cared for my body
That much

I wanted to feel love
To give a woman
A hug

Oh well
It never came

I will just sit there
And starve to death

And after that
I will cease to exist
Or go to heaven
Based on my religious beliefs

Is it nice there
Heaven

Are there caring women
With large *******
And firm bottoms?

I certainly hope so
I deserve it
For all the miserable ****

We endure on this planet

Maybe I'm just a brain
A brain floating in space

One day I will
Burn all the family
Pictures, perhaps

I would rather starve
Under the tree
Than go to the F.E.M.A. Camp

******* is a selfish act
Why do I have these urges
When I'll never meet a woman

A cold world

Go away
Stay away

Go away
And stay away

I have the light
That fills the day

The stars are bright
They fill the night

Everything is going
To be okay

Just stay away
Stay away from me

My podcasts are my friends
And that is how
It will be
Victor D López Jan 2021
Young, naïve lawyer,
For-profit business school dean,
A Quixotic quest.

Idealism,
Despite the odds,
May yet win the day.

Or will it be crushed?
Humor, angst, triumph, heartbreak,
All par for the course.

Love found and love lost,
Trial by fire tempers or breaks,
Steel in life's hot forge.

Which for our young dean?
Will he too tilt at windmills,
Thinking them cruel knights?

Or will he prevail,
Stay true to his quest until,
He succeeds or fails?

You can hear me read the complete first nine chapters from my new novel referenced in this "teaser poem" in my podcasts at https://open.spotify.com/show/1zgnkuAIVJaQ0Gb6pOfQOH
Seher Seven Apr 2017
These days there are so many options for sharing our voices. Social media has created an instant audience for all who join. It is a large change for the older generations of the Earth, though social media holds the opportunity of our times! We are all there, together. 

I am aware that the awakening that is taking place on Earth is all being played out as it is intended. Social media alone did not bring us to this point. All of our history has brought us to this point. Every light high and grueling low. Each moment moved our lives forward and helped create the next new moments. This is obvious though the power in this reality is what healing looks like to me. 

I am using the social media world to share the plant message I have tuned into. Being able to share how my heart loves with humans far outside my physical reach is empowering beyond words. I feel such deep gratitude to be alive today and for having the awareness of this blessing. I never felt comfortable with that word. Though in reality, being a witness to life is truly the blessing.

We live in a society that the mass of us really do not understand. Our world is being created by the humans with the most access to energy (resources). The large part of humanity has committed to economics and actually, capitalism. Workers have very low energy reserves to be creators. Though we all do it anyways. The human is the most powerful being we know of! Our capabilities are truly unbelievable!!!

We are equally as powerful as all other living organisms and yet have a capacity of creation that no others possess. The human has very few basic needs. Though one of those needs is to make stuff... all kinds of stuff... all the time. We will always be advancing and building. Its what we do. The question I think many of us ask is, how can we be happy with all this stuff? There seems to be a general sense of discontent capturing our hearts. How is this affecting the world we are creating?

In the creation of this website and expansion organization, I have thought much about helping people find solutions to their every day challenges. This is how a whole lifestyle is accomplished. We have to dig into the daily habits, change those and create new healthier ones. When we change our mind, we change our world. We literally change the things we create because new thoughts are at the source of the manifestation.

To make sure I was providing the solutions my sphere needed, I created a short survey that explores the major roadblocks people have with maintaining a healthier lifestyle. The results were small, though very powerful and pretty surprising for me. 70% of the responses indicated that what they needed most to adapt to a whole food plant based lifestyle was inspiration and accountability. 60% also noted needing it to work in a busy lifestyle. These are two of the major hindrances of us. Desire and time. Both have been systematically deleted over time. Major lifestyle differences must come about for either to be possible. We spend most of our hours working for stuff that does not fulfill any human needs at all. 

Thankfully!!! We are the actual energy that creates everything... we are a manifestation of it! We are energy in motion, tuned to our environment to make changes as we desire. This is an amazing thing to be a part of and I have such a deep faith that we can create a world we desire by aligning with the healing power of plants and by just helping each other out! 

Healing is real. And it is fairly simple. When a wound surfaces, the immune system sends the info to heal. Our communities work in similar ways. We respond to the needs of neighbors and friends when tragedy strikes. We feel it is our duty. Though when it comes to our personal self, most of us struggle to uplift ourselves. We have been taught to doubt our hearts, our dreams, our self. As we grow with this person who is fearful of itself, we tend to create situations that are lacking the major and minor touches that nourish us. We are missing the fine details of our world that confirm to us time again that everything is OK.

This does not mean that everything is calm and serene for the everyone all the time. This is not what being is. Being is the movement through different cycles. These cycles exist in the dark and the light for us humans. Our core must move from the dark to the light and back in order to grow and develop the power to continue to create and move. This is what the plants really teach. This is the message that we discover when we align with these healing beings. Death creates new life. New life moves towards death. The moments in between are for our growth. How simple it is...

Our world will continue to experience tragedies. Babies will continue to die. Mother's will continue to weep. The world will also continue to become more aware and grow deeper. Babies will be born and Mother's will continue to have the capacity to love, unconditionally. Our heart beat cannot be tainted. It cannot be stopped. We are the manifestation of the Earth. We are Her children. As a Mother, I can confirm that She will work with her children and never against them. She will provide the lessons they need and will be there to direct them if needed. This is what mamas (and dads) do. We are always being directed towards expansion. This is the desire of our Mother, of time... it seems like of US all. It won't stop. Learning to move with it is where much of our peace and happiness is resting, awaiting our re-discovery. Gratitude is due.

So, today's post is what my heart felt was an inspiring message! I want to be able to help serve the people around me that need healing. I receive the same energy from all of you! My awareness here will make the exchange effective, inspiring and nourishing! Remember, nourishment is a requirement of bonds here. We must nourish each other in our interactions... and definitely in our death. Its a natural law. There is a release here you can feel if you struggle with these feelings. We give and take equally, either in this moment or another. Everything ends up balancing out, coming back to the center/core and creating the dark/light, positive/negative, love/hate experiences again. What if we created new habits that disconnected us from all this back and forth? What if we learned to tune into our inner voice, our core and exercise the desires of this space? What if we encouraged each other to at least think about it? Does worrying about a war that is not fact seem more productive to you? Or continuing to participate in a system that is creating a world we do not desire? Obviously we must make these changes over generations, though what are we prepared to change about ourselves in order to instill these changes in our offspring? Its a reset. And it begins within. It sounds like self acceptance and love. It looks like that love being extended, honestly, from the insides out. It means recognizing the energy you are in all others, honoring that creative force and treating it with compassion and forgiveness. This does not answer all the troubles of the world. This answers the desire within. Once the humans of Earth are tuned to their desires, we will see the troubles look like what we wish too. They help us create the experiences to learn compassion. To learn unconditional love. We are not here to live in the dark. The light is always ahead. Creation is sparked in the dark.

Why not? Why not try? I know it works. It will look different for each of us. Though healing is real, unless its your time. Then you do not have to worry about it anymore. Until that day, we can learn to use our creative energy to develop exactly what our hearts desire. They are universal goals we share and we are intended to encourage each other along the way. We are all just walking each other home. Home is where the heart is. 

Thank you for the beautiful humans that participated in the survey! Your responses mean so much to me. I will continue to add in my perspective of inspirational blog posts and podcasts. It is great to know that the fire I feel within can be shared to light another's wick. I promise to do my best for my self, my children, my family ... for us all. These moments of my life matter to me. We all have the ability to know this and to act accordingly.  Let's go!!!
This was share on a blog I've created. You can find it at alignwithplants.com... as well as more info to help you align with the healing power of plants! I've never shared something like this here.  Today just felt right :) it felt like I could be having a conversation with any of you. I  appreciate and love you all @hellopoetry
SJ Sullivan Jan 2016
Debauchery was in the air for all of us last night.
Neo hip hop stoner jive.

I once watched my friend break down into tears after
hearing a Phil Collins song while shopping for dinner
in a Louisville gas station.

Angela will get up and leave the room if The Reason by Hoobastank
comes on the radio and you still listen to Closing Time when you get ready for bed.
Weird phrases are hovering through the air.

I turned on the bathroom fan to avoid sitting in silence with myself and you ripped up all my potted plants and sold my favorite arm chair on craiglist.
I wake up sobbing.

You were chewing on a red pen, but i thought it was a twizzler. I worked up the courage to ask you for one.

The chainsaw love song of the jumping spider
makes the snare drums in your ears roll.
Its gold in the right light.
Even better in the under light.

I told you i think its weird that everyone buys shoes
and maybe some people feel about their shoes
the way i feel about my shoes,
Which is a good feeling.

I am writing this poem while other people
read poems that the have written also.

I am too anxious to ask people when podcasts become a thing
and what does it mean to be a podcast?

A friend once said it would be cool if your poetry professor
told you to ******* but its also cool when they get you a
glass of water at the poetry reading where you are writing poems.

I think the girl in front of me is writing a poem too.
I wonder if she writes about spiders.
I wonder if she is giving her mom a poem for her birthday.
I wonder if she drafts poems about how you make her feel but
deletes them before they burn into her laptop screen.

I wonder how you feel when you make me feel good and happy.
I hope that you feel like the way i feel when you make me feel good and happy.
I am glad we are friends. I want you to play piano with me on sunday evenings
so we can prelude into the perpetual strain of sunday to saturday.
It may, if we play loud enough, dampen the bodies of the
****** and doomed that we inhibit on weekdays.

I wish I could write poems that inspire your poems.
I wrote this at a poetry reading.
Justin S Wampler Jun 2021
My friends all talk to each other,
sometimes they address me.
Only every now and then though,
and usually to try and sell something.
My friends are voices, voices in the car.
Voices in my apartment,
voices coming from afar.
My friends are always there,
always willing to talk.
My friends don't really know me,
but I know all of them.
I know them well,
they share everything.
My friends are the voices,
I listen to them so that
I don't have to listen
to myself.
Matt Mar 2015
Operation Jade Helm
Listing Texas and Utah
As hostile territory

They prepare for Martial Law

American Dreamers
The dream is over

I think within the next two years
There may well be an economic collapse

This nation is weak
No good jobs
No future
For young Americans like me

The dollar has as much value as toilet paper

Ah well you know life is some type of tragedy
Can't get a good job
I'll be living in this home until America collapses

Let it come
Our leaders ruined our nation

In this world I am alone
Hiking and wandering
Hoping to meet a friend
I never meet anyone

Still I go on
The absurdity
Emptiness

At least I have my podcasts
They keep me company

Terrible times
They are coming
Terrible, terrible

I hope you're ready
Matt Jun 2017
Every day
Is a vacation

And no
I don't feel guilty

This is my life

I think about ***
All these beautiful women
I'll never know

I dream of them
Pleasuring themselves

I conjure up pornographic
Images is my mind
When I pleasure myself
And I feel just fine

I doubt I'll ever know a woman

I'm 32
I used to substitute teach
A 40 hour work week
Is what they preach

Hours spent online
Having ******
Conversations

People in chatrooms
And having cam to cam chats
Across the nation

It's a world of seeing
Of times and places
Various faces

All just passing through
Some go here
Others go there

It's all so bizarre
And not really fair

I have left the home
I have lived in since 1997

Slowly but surely
Climbing the stairway to heaven

Here comes that guy
The security guard
Walking Down the sidewalk
Next to the boulevard

I like documentaries
Podcasts too
I keep plastic bags in my car
In which to take a poo

Well this high fiber diet
Of mine keeps things moving
Right through

Twitch streams
What a dream

I really love
The internet it seems

At least I can make
A connection there

In a world
That is not fair
Matt Apr 2015
Thinking she might say the L word
Not wanting to say it myself

Thinking there was a small chance that she might say
That she loved me as a friend

It didn't happen
I'm not surprised

I'm thankful
And content with how she shared
How she thanked me for being honest

But I've learned its not good
To grow too attached to people
Just love Jesus
He is consistent

And His love is the greatest of all

At least I have my podcasts
People will dissapoint
Podcasts don't

Neither does earth mother
N Apr 2023
it's been a year.
It's been a year and I think about the torn-up pieces of paper I used to hide in your room with notes scribbled in purple pen. I wonder about the last letter I ever wrote you. I asked you to remember all the little things that made us—the simplicities of our routine, the days that were for us to know. I asked you to remember me, but it's been a year and I don't remember who she was. It makes me sad to miss the girl that was yours, the girl you used to love.
I wake up early now. I prefer French press coffee but still love the hazelnut creamer. Coffee mate is better than delight. I make my bed almost every morning and I'm a big fan of house slippers. I drink lots of water but I need lemon flavoring in it. I haven't bought milk in months. I study at the kitchen table and never use my desk, I have a house plant that I've kept alive. I still have those singing tourettes you always mocked me for, and no I haven't finished the books I said I would. I listen to podcasts, I'm learning more about myself daily. I have new friends that you've never met. My favorite song is from an artist I didn't get the chance to show you. My mom got married, and we're not as close anymore. My sister has a new boyfriend and he's moving in with us. I don't drink at home very often, but when I do it's always wine. I have lived alone for the past few months, and I've become well acquainted with myself. I love my space, I love my solitude. I still play that one song by the Manchester orchestra, and it still makes me think of you. I don't check your profile as much anymore, but I see you're happy and my heart smiles for you. I miss your dog and your backyard and your sister, but I've mastered the art of grieving. There's still love for you in this heart of mine. I still look for your face in the front window of every gray Honda Civic, your license plate is still memorized. I'm not the girl you met in 2018, I'm not the girl you lost last spring. There are parts of me that with you I couldn't show. There are parts of me you'll never get to know.

Thank God.

— The End —