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Aparna Ganguli Dec 2011
The clock strikes two, too whit too hoo
The barn owl cries
My phone is on roo raa raa roo
The wait dies...

Too whit too whoo when would he call?
I wait and wait
Roo ra ra roo, the phone is on
The hour is set.

"Cinderella hour" and he doesn't call
What's wrong, oh my!
I toss and turn, all forlorn
As time slips by...

Then goes the ring, trring trriing triing
I jump to it
He calls and calls while i hold my breath
Tat for ***!

And then i go tee da da do
I do give in
To hear those three letter words
My head's a spin

Love you, love you, I love you
Is all i hear
His sugary voice, with an extra poise
That brings a tear

Is it a dream, is it a song
Is it the rain?
Roo raa raa roo, too whit too whoo
"WAIT" again...
A Poet
Has To Write

A Poetess
Has To Create

Poet = You
You IS ThePoetess

So EpicI
Am

HALLELUYAH
That I Know :)

You'll
Write
Wonderfull
Epic Sonnets

Jet -lag
Notebooks
And Nooks Mysterious
At The SilkenNoose
Neurotransmitting

Black and Red Ribbons
Around the +++Tulips
Taking Epic Tales
For Granted

Give Me Mythos !!!
My God

Mein Gott
Mio Dio
Mes Dios


Poetic
( Then )
I'll
Inquire
inquire
DEEP

At Illy's
Leaned On
Leaned on

My little left Elbow
Dreaming Vis a Vis and Elba
About The Harvest Moon
About My Maine ****
About My Golden Mine
About Thy Golden Mine
About The Architecture
of "Solid & Quality"
Ink

Where All Started And Why
There At The Starry Lit
Night Sky

Enamored
Non
armored
Palms Under
This Universal Tiny
Marble Skull

Givin' A
Primal Protection
To Primordial Operations

Evoking
HIGH
Sparks And Glitter
IDEALS
With Not Doin' Much
With Myself

Lying
Within
Listening

To The Symphony
Of Tender Waves
Kissing The Shore's
Sharp Fjordic Surface

Dying With Each
Momentum
A Bit Further
To The Future
Fulfilled

Yearning Away
Abstractrions
Abbrevations
And Breaths
And Beaches
And Bachus
And Bach
And Us
To Reach

Roerich's Perfection
And Sublimity
At Poets
Raa
Realm

For Immortal Infinity
For Immortal Infinity

To
Unveil Some Secret Codes
To Untangle The Solitude Days
To Love This Immence Psychic
Improbability
To Be Ego
Earnest
To Be(:

Give This Wings The Will
Let The Spirit Fly
Let Our Souls
Collide
And
Bounce
And
Build
And
Break
And
Roam
On The Right Organic Roads
On The Write ******* Road

Sporadically
Outbursting
Poets

Explosive
Intuition
Poets­

Insightfully
Tranquill
Poets

Divinational
Emergency
Poet­s

White
Rebels

Tear Streamers
Self Haters
Dark _Matters

Jolly good Kiddos
Serious Endeavours
Volcano
Poetos

Peripathetos

Love dwellers
Celestial Movers
Energizers
Appetizers
Bitter lemons

Juicy Tourers
Turist Poets

Classic Cats
Rhyme Sprouts
Free Verse Trenders
Mixing Blossom Blenders

Heart Poets
And Poets of Heartwarm Writes
Epic Heroes Love Believers
And Belly Vowel Dancers

Phonem Seekers
Cadence Riders
Filthy Reachers
Archaic Attackers
Cosmic Trees

Knowledge
Seeders



!!! You !!!
Emerge
At Once
As Others

Hereon
Hello

Poetry

Do You Do ?
Thank You !

!!!
Fine
Structure
Capacity
Some Stamina
And Mastery Skills
As A Present Poetry Beacon
Shining Bright For All The Cunning Greenhorn+s

A Cup Is Raised
!!! For All Of You !!!

To Drink Up The Invisible
Potion Of Stunning Inspiration
And Some ****** Genofondic Insight

Insignia is
Incomprehensable
Ingenius IS

Each
Wonderous Write
Wonderful Writer

To Dig That
L'Art pur l'Art
Isn't there Per se

L'Art is
Ars Poetica

Is

A Marvellous
A Marvellous

Dreamy Touch

OF
Poetic Purrs
And Witty Whiskers
ABonus Poeticus
  
And A Rattle of Spiral Bones
And A Bottle of Rhyme
And
And
At The
EndsEnd

You'll
Have To
Work Till YoU
Drop

You'll
Have To
Let The Muse
See You Soulborne
Let me see You -> Naked

Light As An Eagle Feathers
Bereft
of
Every Emotional Baggage
Release Rumors And
Rumpaging Rage
Not Only And
Exclusively On
Rare Occasions

You Know What ?!

I'll Inspire Thy Insightfull-Ness
Loch Thy Leisure Lake Luckilly
Clean of Creamy Caleidoscopic
Conundrums

You
Wonder
Wonderful
Ponderish
**POETẼSS
POETẼSS

:) A Tribute To All Fellow Writers Here On Hello Poetry !!!!
It Is A Fantastic Poetic Portal (:

!!! Long Live Poetry !!!

<3
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Love & Poetry
<3
Olivia Kent Apr 2020
We lived a bit,
We celebrated the god of the sun...oooh Raa,
We sat in our houses, aware of the mouses,
We watched birds through the patio doors.
We cheered, that the goddess is here smiling.
She is most welcome.
Life goes on regardless,
But we sit indoors blooming in our own ways.
For we need to.
We must.
Livvi
P.s. Raa was a Male deity, Eyptian Sun God,
I'm just weird thinking of the sun as a Goddess,
She's just glorious in my bizarre way out way x
I know the plural of mouse  is mice...mouse was just apt....lol x
.
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
r a n, or: reformed alcoholics named, such pretty,
saintly creatures, you can almost yawn at the whole affair;
i've never heard such gracious life-affirming stories as these -
watch them scuttling like rats from a sinking
ship, you can count them, hell, you can even name them:
oh there's jerry who ****** himself in bed,
there's bradley in black-out mode
at liverpool st. station,
james the one who puked blood in the toilet...
and there's me, using alcohol for what
the arabs feared it could do to a man:
dehydrate him and leave him with a snail-tongue,
all slurry and slow - not a very known
sedative back then, it was first used to sterilise
medical equipment used in removing an
appendix, or the third tonsil (e.g.) -
rarely was it used as a sedative, people abused it
during Bacchus ****** - they'd dance and sing;
Spartan meat-heads used to drink diluted wine
(all that six-pack growling and Hoplite Phallus...
Phalax... whatever RAA!) and would give pure
wine to shame someone and walk him down
the street, tumbling... the Japanese... hmm, what
an odd case indeed... i'd need a barrel of sāké /
säké to get drunk... and they drink it... warm,
disgusting... mulled wine i can understand...
but drinking ****-***** ***** warm is sick...
            now concerning the diacritical marks,
so the umlaut a (dot dot)... am i right in assuming
that in english it would be equivalent to write
it as: a a            and whatever letters either side?
oh oh! like aardvark? i'm good at arithmetic, . .    . .
    . .        . .            . .         . .                             σ 12, yes?
then surely the macron on the other variant is also
a prolongation, or perhaps an elongation of the vowel,
but of course with the     e           you're sort of supposed
to jump, make the tongue jump or fire a slingshot
or throw a Molotov cocktail or something, ṝight?
(yep, that's not a trill but a "growl", the english
                                        hollowed-out r -
     meaning it is prolonged, but it's not trilled -
                                        the posh Chelsea girls would know,
puffs and toffs and macaroons, whatnot, oh ya,
yeah, those kind of girls, they'd tell you all about
                   the hollowed-out and prolonged english ṝ
there's no greater amount of ambiguity like there is in
that and why w is said to be a double-u but is written
like a double-v, and translated into polish
a                 w is actually             a         ł;
                            i think this is where we ref. everything
to the dispersion of the peoples and the tower of Babylon).
Ackerrman Oct 2019
Sun on Shoulders,
Tingling sensation smoulders,
Sinks into skin,
Golden glare- Serendipitous sin.
Rippling rays-
Meanders, and plays
On waves of melody-
Moves on water like electricity.
Switched on.
Winter is gone.
Raa has control
Straight thinking on school-
To teach the waves to lap
Lazily and playfully, map
The ebb and flow
Of breezes that blow
The ship to the middle,
Raise anchor and kindle
Magic, eternally
Float majestically

To sun kissed Golden shores.
Wrote this while sitting by the side of the pool in Ibiza- beautiful day in November
Ackerrman Aug 2019
I once caught a sparrow, small and black, its wings shivered as I took it in,
Fed the poor little thing, stroked its breast and listened for a heartbeat,
There it was, small but strong, its pulse erratic. Scared creature,
After the day, it had recovered and was ready to fly away, as it was born to do
So, I broke my sparrow’s wings.

Now my sparrow sits in its box, its heart is small and strong,
But I don’t let it out to see the light of day for too long,
I love my sparrow, I look at it night and day,
My warm embrace, from time to time, reminds the thing that it’s mine,
I keep my sparrow in the dark

Today, my sparrow was looking as effervescent and as strong as ever,
It hopped with pride and glee and looked so lovingly at me,
So, I took it out of its box and placed it by the open window,
The wild-eyed adoration of Raa was in its eyes as it peeped at freedom,
So, I broke my sparrows wings.

My sparrow is looking a little tired and upset,
I placed it in the box without a friend or a strand of hope to live on,
I told my sparrow that I love it and that it is special,
And it believes that I love it as it loves me, but I only like it because it is black.
I keep my sparrow in the dark.
I am not sure if I am the sparrow or the tyrant...
Ackerrman Oct 2019
Pupils gaze into the sun, I am stunned,
Unearth the power of Raa in your eyes,
Revel! As we lay for long hours, sunned
To death in the warm embrace of your fires.

As we wrap our lives around each other's
Souls as stinging nettles cradle soft skin,
Our life embers trickle, rumbles, smothers-
Nothing. Just- blood. Scars, filth under cover.
And you tickle the hair under my chin...

Time swells and the kind universe cradles-
I can't- stomach this ******* orange juice anymore!
I choke on the bits, I told you before,
How many times- and where is that *****?
What do you mean- “Lucy has gone before”
Good Lord, where has that ***** gone now. That *****-
Cotton wrapped ‘round faithful fairy fables—
Grandad? Is that you? What did you send me for?

This dream bred a silk no spider could weave,
Heavenly nirvana, none could conceive...

You. Child like, notions of freedom. So naive,
Your ****** up little attitude is hard to conceive.

Lucy? Lucy, is that you? -You ***** tease!
I am confused, did you drug me again?-
I shall follow wherever you may lead...
-You’re no better than when you’re on your knees-
Don’t leave me, like a little frightened Fen...
Just ask and I should spend my life on my knees.

My light is yours to – blank –

Tie the rope to the tree and ******* hang.

Lucy must be with Grandad, that’s why I
Can't find them- can't find my love- my bee.

How long until this moment passes by
Lucy, do me the Honour. Marry me.

Lucy?

Lucy.
So I watched the penultimate of Bojack Horseman season 4, and wow, I am pretty sure I have PTSD. Anyway, the episode inspired me. Here is a poem about dementia.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2020
one of my cats - bonsai tigers is such a recluse -
for the 24h in a day she could spend 28h sleeping,
and not be seen apart from taking
a princess dump and eating like a gargoyle...

my room always fascinated her -
i guess she like the smell of books -
and the chair - for the past few days:
her "modus operandi" for whatever else
happens in the day...

i turn on the computer... start typing...
there she is, geared up, agitated -
doing her little pagan prayer: standing on
the hind legs - outstretching her front legs
and paws - and then moving them in an amen
clasp up and down -

i once overheard "someone" instructing her...
the voice wasn't human -
the words weren't human...
i'm under the impression that she was told:
get him away from typing...
as if now she wants all the attention...

one of the last stumps of the old dwarfs is almost
out of the ground...
but this one is a beast -
           it grew into a heap of concrete where
the old fence posts were...
you can't dig this sort of roots' head up
with a tiny shovel - a tiny one handed gardening
fork... a hand-saw... a blunt axe...
a hammer: when needing to hammer the axe
in...
              one of the roots took forever...
tomorrow i'll take out the guns of navarone...
a hammer drill and an electric saw...
i'll turn these concrete blob into dust
and chew into the roots with electric eels...

then the waiting process -
i will have to burn the soil...
        either with vineger or salt or i don't know...
i'll get some proper gardening chemical
that will treat old roots like weeds...
until the wood becomes brittle and...
a future source of nourishment for new
growth...
   and the dwarf apple trees grew...
while bonsai tigers cackled-esque at the birds...
eyes growing tired into a murmur of
itchy blinking...

took a coffee break and... thought apps...
and technology...
   not much thinking in all honesty...
at 34 i should be somewhere in this field...
working on some minor detail...

they can have ****** recognition technology...
but they don't have an app
that allows you take a photograph of a flower
to subsequently let you know the name of it...
they have an app that listens to a song
on the radio... and hey presto!
you have the name of the song...
          but there's no app that has a honing
microphone... after all: a camera has a zoom...
why isn't there a honing microphone?
there's no app to record a bird song...
to subsequently: hey google: listen to this...
what bird is that?

well... good to know that i still have
some interest in that... give him 3 minutes
and you're listening to spy cables
from a mr. starling...

            it's not even beautiful as vivaldi
would make it appear in the imitation game...
it's a binge on mathematics... or the thought
that comes with it...

       how the old tongue came about,
as revised to latin standards by methodius
and cyril... i too met a greek once...
from Thessalonica... in Warsaw...
       astounded as to why my english was
so good...
                then again, one has to wonder
why the czechs did not succumb...
"succumb"... nor we their neighbours...
to...

how Ⰰ became A... was it to become T?
well... not if Ⱅ (T) was to be... W?
none of these letters could be "simplified"...
with the exceptions of 'b': Ⰱ that became Б...
'm': Ⰿ that became M
           'p': Ⱂ that became "p": π
       but even the glagolitic entry i'm reading...
Ⱋ: is supposedly symplified by щ...
   i'm not buying that...
                  i could be wrong that...
    Ⱎ was and that ш is... a letter intact...
                 or that Ⱇ was and that ф is...
and that it wasn't the greek φ...
well... ш + ц = щ - šarość + č = ščerość
                   (greyness + ch-                       +
                                             -atter ≠ honesty)
yet how many words can begin with щ / šč-?
quiet a few... ščekać! to bark!
                                    look... i too have my:
tail: bąk - bumblebee...
          or perhaps how Ⰶ became ж...
or }I{ / >I<                                   Ż / RZ / Ž    
if you have a caron...
                        and know why horseradish
goes well with beetroots for a salt "puree" side
dish...
              a problem from the start of day
rubric!

     infinity                           |           nothingness
noun                                                    noun
infinite                                              nothing
adjective                                           pronoun
          ∞                                                    0?
                                                         or   √-1       i
     ~                                                 last time i heard
         ÷                                               0 = negation
                                                        so much for Kant
                                                   and subsequently
                                                         so much for ¬
                                                               likewise...  
        ∃                                                         ∄                                                    

and this toiling with the grammar...
             last time i heard these terms:
cis-                          trans-
         the conversation was central to
chirality of chemical compounds...
well... cis-trans isomers: would i have dreamed
of chemistry being so popular among
grammatical anarchists?
                                          no... it's not about
chirality...

once upon a time a language so simple:
so brittle - so accessible -
            i would strain myself on the definition:
it better rhyme...
then came the drastic oops...
           even if it rhymes...
so what it rhymes... if it does not hold ground
for lyricism to take root!

      who is to keep hold of this brute this
language gott: gut: this alles gute?
               tweak that with a sly umlaut over
a yo-yew-you? yarl!
                 who else sings?
                    the three witches: thane...
of glamis - cawdor...
                                    borrowed time from the graeae...
or at least the tongue...
the eye-shared went missing when
nine cyclopses jumped into the couldron...
the tenth: offside or the racous...
                             perhaps even: nobody...        

since why would i come with all these gifts?
what if i took your two heads away...
what ιf: ȷust lιke that! eh?
                              where are your: "dιacrιtιcal"
markers... ιn a language wιth no orthography!
there's only... the straιtȷacket of metaphysιcs
beιng exhausted: yet agaιn!

at least between a ȷ and a j there's a raa'
and a zaayn involved... please don't mention laam...
( ر ) and (ز ) respectively...
                            ( ل )...
                                          must we always learn
about the romans?
                         mr. starling sang came noon...
while i was drinking my coffee...
no app for the recognition of flowers...
plenty of ****** recognition technology in place...
no app for the recognition of bird songs...
plenty of songs archived and a honing
microphone for the telephone to pick up on
and recognise...

my song would have been much simpler...

/
meie, din liehter schin
und diu kleinen vogelin
bringent vrouden vollen schrin
daz si willekommen sin!
ich bin an den vrouden min
mit der werlde kranc
alle tage ist min klage
von der ich daz beste sage
und ir holdez herze trage
daz ich der niht wohl behaage
von den schulden ich verzage
daz mir nie gelanc
also noch genuogen an ir
dienest ist gelungen
die nach guoter wibe lone
höveschlichen rungen
nü han ich beidiu umbe
sust gedienetunde gesungen

                                                    /

as i recall... i am supposed to have a date
with a medieval germany...
a romantic germany...
     perhaps even a romance of europe
in general...
           solely on a lingua primo basis...
                history... after the mass graves
at ypres...
                           even a *** would agree
with... there's a romance
and all that was shumann and was...
              how or why the prussian became
in charge of the german people...
the same prussians...
the same baltic prussians...
the same baltic prussians that
the teutonic knights of bavaria etc.
waged a crusade against!

                      even in england certain histories
of this continent are off limits...
so much for having learned
of edward the confessor's existence...
or the medieval genius that was
philip II augustus... the capetian...
                           so much: and thus mr. starling
sang for me...
midnight came and i started looking for
my shadow to take to bed -
steal him i will / had to from
            the harem of the candlelight.

— The End —