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Katrina Wendt Oct 2011
I had built a wall
Layer by layer
Mortar and stone

Until it was so high
And so strong
I thought no one could break it.

But I overlooked something
Because when I was done
There you were.

You just slipped right past my wall
Without even noticing its presence.
I was too surprised to push you out.

And then a funny thing happened
I was happy
And at peace with the world

And reconsidering my wall
Reconsidering
What I was protecting myself from.

I didn't have much of myself
To give away
But I gave you some of what was left

But not so much
That it would destroy me
To have to take it back.

Because I'd been though that before
I gave away so much
And still most of it is gone.

I've been hurt into being
More cautious with my feelings
Than I used to be.

And it turned out to be
A good thing
A blessing inside a curse

Because when you gave that piece back
It hurt
But I knew it could have been worse.

Because you can't break something
That's already been broken
By another.

There wasn't any part of me I gave you
That you could destroy
I didn't give you that.

I keep my heart close to me
Because it belongs to another
You were only borrowing what I had left.

So I will be fine
Because I've been through worse
And you are not my Kryptonite.
2011
Daniel Hunt Jan 2015
I'm not like the other guys.
I can't escape this it always finds me,
I try hard to stop it but there's no stopping.
I can't fight it off because it's not of my control,
It's how other people think and I'm just a fool.

I can't escape what others percieve me as,
I just be myself and I guess I'm an ***.
I don't understand why I keep getting pushed down,
I am the nicest guy I know and yet I'm being like all guys around.

I try hard to be the best and the opposite of the others,
But it seems like in the end I'm just like my twin brother.
I'm nothing special and I'm just an idiot,
Don't feel bad if you've called me that I'm used to it.

My dad would say I'm a failure at life that I need to just see,
I tried to block that out but that's exactly what others have shown me,
I'm nothing special and I'm just like the others why even try?
It's like every girl I come across would be better off if I die.

I'm the guy that will cry when I'm told something wrong,
It's probably because I've held all my emotions in for so long.
I know there's great times but then there's the bad,
and when those bad occurs it just makes me really sad.

I'm not lying when I say I try **** it I try really hard!
I don't want to be that ******* of a guy that ****** in peoples yards!
I try not to be that horrible guy that plays 2-3 girls,
I try not being that horrible guy that's ***** rules his world!

I know that I think with my brain or atleast I say I do,
I'm sorry to all if I've ever hurt any of you.
I'm reconsidering what I've thought from the first time this happened,
I might just delete this account and that's just going to be the end.

Please don't be mad or sad, don't tell me to stay.
I'm probably going too anyways,
I'm just trying to smile for once again this is my escape,
But how can your sanctuary be something that's worse in a way?

I love you so much, I love you all I'm not lying.
But I can't stand the girls that turn their backs on me,
Because inside I'm really dying.
I'm not an emo so ***** all of you if that's what you see.

I'm just someone confused with this site,
Who can't stand all the fights,
I want this to be the place that's right,
But soon it'll take over my sight.

If you want me to stay, then show me that im diffrent,
Make me know, im not like the others,
I want to show guys here, that im diffrent.
Tell me should I stay?
I made this poem, becasue I wanted a way, to tell girls that i'm not like all types of guys on this Planet, some can be diffrent.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
sitting there, fiddling with my beard,
trying to manage a pseudo-payot -
twirling it, and twirling it -
attempting to lose weight
with due process - of gaining
a pointy shrub of *****...
            i really had something to attest
for:
      ah!
             ****, lost the marbles...
      going to see a turkish
barber is about as obnoxious for
me as seeing a doctor...
     no one ever heard of going for
the feral look?
              in whatever agony,
i'd rather that sort of a death sentence,
than this, prolonged,
power ****** / grabbing delay
of:
      i seem to dream up  the following
scenario,
   given that the space we call
universe is primarily a medium
of time...
               and death row?
the execution bound to an electric
chair, isn't the actual execution...
the actual execution?
   it's the waiting "game"...
   by the time the shitshow is over...
sitting in the electric chair...
is a death's bargain of:
gambling on death's gambit...
  there is no pain in concentrated
posits of delayed "gratification"...
         Empedocles
    (who jumped into a burning
volcano)...
     Diogenes (who died by holding
his breath)...
there is nothing inhumane
about the rite of the execution...
it's the delayed artifact of it being
postponed that's degrading...
    mind you...
all the ****** victims,
at least experienced the pain
numbing adrenaline shock intermediate
effect...
     like hannibal lecter noted:
the shock, numbs the pain...
       but waiting
for an execution?
      up in arms for the death penalty -
but, not... cat teases mouse
waiting game...
          only last night i found myself
lying in bed...
humming out, groaning,
   an attempt at relief...
              pain is ultimate...
waiting is relative...
    here i'd side with Cain...
     execute... but please...
            don't make him wait;
waiting is the execution in itself...
if not more...
   this: reflection of what
the victim's life could have been...
taking the bible literally:
what, marked, and allowed to roam
free in a place like Siberia, or
the Canadian woodlands?
       keep it fresh, keep it simple,
give the perpetrator the same
adrenaline high...
some laws are non-debatable -
    on a high, squiggly clean, fast...
the death penalty makes sense...
but only if there is no
waiting game involved -
             the waiting is worse
than the actual execution...
                  say what you may about
the french revolution...
   but since the guillotine?
  the american electric chair...
  wasn't exactly any bias
for improvement...
          snap tactic!
   i hate, what these covert sadists
disguise as a course
of justice...
            this waiting game...
it's like Einstein's relativism never
took off...
           because a caged, waiting game
with a Cain, has no objectivity argument,
and there's no quality filter to
ascribe to this argument...
          by comparison -
   the Abel of the matter was shown
more justice, even if within the confines
of the irrational premeditation of
the abhorrent act...
                   don't people realize that,
being confined...
   subsequently providing the original
zenith of sentencing (i.e. execution) -
death, becomes a saint,
and found itself a friend and martyr?

       it is no longer an execution...
but a release -
and the person being executed -
has an inability to recant for the past crime...
he slobber and makes solipsistic
incantations...
                there is no closure...
with the evolutionary sadism of capital
punishment delay...
          
     why not make the killer and victim
lovers - in the case of Cain and Abel,
Siamese twins?
              
        waiting for the execution,
           is worse than the execution itself;
last time i heard,
in england, the pork was "herded",
piling onto each other, in claustrophobic
cages... suffocating each other...
        
     i sometimes dream of being a
maximilien robespierre -
dreaming of ghosts -
  and supervising the drop of the guillotine,
like i might think, about reconsidering
having a shave.
d w Stojek Jul 2018
foam floral caps, work of wet hydrangea,        

                          or pulse of caucasian lilacs in a sky-relieved frieze.        

                                   cambric pennons swag reconsidering      

                                          margins of wimpling burn,      

                                        wherein the stars…twiring stars,    

                                    the declining stars, moon and planets        

                                                            tur­ned--



                                      purchase light with morning-hands:        

                                         ­         green-bedizened;      

                                              amber trammeling bud.      

                                          absolve qualm suffusing tyre,      

                                             violet’s violent leniency--        

                                            a­nd feel, o’bask! in velvet      

                                                   ­ flume of veins,        

                                          as beams of conspiracy raise      

                                                  to­ post and lintel,      

                                         crutching a young god’s legs--



                                      and feel, o’supplicate!  bathe in      

                                                day’s anatomies,      

                                   til greave deposit in lacunary sleeves,    

                                   and a genuflecting sun bow eternally--
Robert Eckert Nov 2010
Staring at the night sky.
Back to the asphalt,
waiting.
The stars are dimmed by a thin cloud smattering
hanging above relentlessly,
the result of a windless evening.
Only here on a lampless island
could you see through to the stars.
The water laps rhythmically against the dockside.
Consistent.
Reassuring.
It seems I’ve been out here forever
awaiting my shooting star.
Irritating clouds matched with crisp night air,
make the search troublesome.
It’d be irrational to wait much longer.
Reconsidering.
Then she tears across the midnight sky.
Brilliant and promising.
Perhaps the brightest one yet.
I’ve never been a man for wishes,
but I have an urge to make one right now.
Brent Kincaid Aug 2016
Stocked up, locked up
In my sanctum *******.
Got *** and cigs and cheap wine;
For me that makes a quorum.
I hope no friend comes by
Acting all hale and hearty.
They're not inside a moment
Then they call up Dial A Party.

Then suddenly my place
Plays host to all the bums
Who have nothing else
But the strength to come
And just sit on my couch
And then eat up all my food
Drink all of my *****
While slurring words like “Dude!”

Now, I'm not anti-social
But I am not Donald Trump
Who has plenty of cash
To entertain these humps.
If they only brought something;
A six-pack or some ****
I'd find an excuse for them;
Some lame reason or need.

So, these days I read
And keep the stereo off.
I don't turn on the lights.
Hell, I don't even cough.
I hide out in the bedroom
Just me and Sam *****,
Seriously reconsidering
The kind of friends I've made.
Joshua Adam Jul 2015
Without Peace We All Know Where We're Headed......


Give peace a chance, will those of nobility declare
Intelligence of spirit, who could ever compare
Valiantly fighting the evil in the world, unwilling to fail
Earnestly helping those needy, without ever becoming frail

Peacefully sacrificing time and energy without ever reconsidering
Endangering themselves to constantly make a difference
Antagonizing the establishment for an instance
Coming home with battle scars to wear and none to share
Emphasizing they are not heroes, only that "they care"

Angering all others, for showing they disagree

Considering the options with nowhere to hide
Hiroshima and its aftermaths, would never subside
Attempting to disrupt, what those warmongers insist
No necessity to justify, the results do persist
Coming full circle does our world continue to exist
Ending in oblivion, if we don't learn how to desist
A short poem on the importance and need of pursuing peace, and the great nobility of all those that have sacrificed themselves in one way or another to TRY and bring about that peace. As world history has shown time and again, death and devastation on a world (numbers) scale, sadly, are all too real.
Infamous one Apr 2013
Never considerate about my thoughts how I feel
Now you're reconsidering my hard work efforts
Overlooked now being looked for opportunity
Been ready sitting on the back burner
Learned to be sure of myself better than not know
Showing more emotions instead of waiting about to go off
Not listening to teens not listening to Thor who have a vote of no confidence
All the haters hate them self trying to make me feel the same way
I don't do that anymore stop trying to bring me down with you
Fighting in this struggle too my hypocrites talking please shut up stop talking
Sometimes you can't make it move aside be inspired by the ppl moving up
Stop hating trying to keep them back
Mad because they found someone should've treated them right or they wouldn't be with someone else
Carlo C Gomez May 2020
Sylvia didn't waste time

She kept time

In a bell jar

On her nightstand

Next to the blissfully whirling blackness of eternal oblivion

All in the hopes it might one day grow wings

And lift her beyond the owl's talons clenching her heart
for Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)
KK Jul 2010
I'm really reconsidering the sentence 'I Hate You'
It's meaning was once very difficult and complicated to me but now it's very clear
Hate is Darkness
It is Power
Evil
Bliss
Some say it's bittersweet
I say it's a ******* warm embrace
Some say you shouldn't let it consume you
Well I say it feels really good in my heart right now
This was written when I was really really angry at someone and I couldn't think straight with all of the hate I felt at the person who was at fault. When I read it back I had to say 'wow'  at the power of what I wrote, it was like the pain was emanating through the paper.
~
November 2024
HP Poet: Jill
Age: 47
Country: Australia


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Jill. Please tell us about your background?

Jill: "Mum and dad immigrated from Northern Ireland to Australia before having my brother and me. I’m very grateful to be living in South Australia on Kaurna Land. My parents were teachers, and they seeded and encouraged my love for education. At university I studied psychology, philosophy, and French. Then I went on to a PhD in psychology, and later, a master’s degree in statistics. In my day job, I’m a psychology professor, which includes lots of scientific writing. Outside work, I love playing music and singing with my partner and our friends and spending time with my precious son and our fluffy dog."


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

Jill: "I’ve been writing poetry on and off for years. The times in my life where I have been most active coincided with having friends who were interested in reading and writing together. In high school, my dear friend and I would watch British comedy shows and write silly, surreal, or nonsense poetry. Our aim was to make each other laugh as much as possible. More currently, I’ve been writing songs with friends, including lyrics, which often start as poems. I joined HP only recently, in August 2024. This community is so generous and supportive, with such a variety of style, depth, and imagination for inspiration and motivation."


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

Jill: "In many of my poems, I’m trying to make sense of big feelings. I often write about my experiences caring for my parents, who both had close and complex relationships with alcohol. That is a never-ending well for poetry, ranging from trying to process some of the intense events, to exploring what it has meant for my self-concept and mental health. Having said that, sometimes I’m just trying to write something that sounds pretty or might cause someone to smile. I love challenges like BLT's Webster’s Word of the Day – seeing what comes from a single word across different poets."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Jill: "In my more personal poems I am documenting, reconsidering, and re-investigating my memories, and organising them in nice, even lines, which feels cathartic. In poems, I find that the small or large amount of distance that you can create through imagery, rhyme, or humor makes it possible to explore difficult or even traumatic experiences, thoughts, and feelings. Writing poetry is a transformative exercise, but there is something greater still about sharing poetry with others."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Jill: "One of my favorite poets is WB Yeats, I particularly love 'The Stolen Child'. Other all-time favorites include Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, AA Milne, Lewis Caroll, Edward Lear, Spike Milligan, Rik Mayall, and Crawford Howard. I also love lyricists like Joni Mitchell, Michael Stipe, Stephen Schwartz, Tim Minchin, Wayne Coyne, Stephen Malkmus, and Rufus Wainright. I have so many favorites on HP – too many to list!"


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Jill: "I love music. Since childhood, I’ve played violin in classical orchestras and musical theatre pits. I adore Irish folk music. For me, at the moment, music mostly happens with friends, with my electric violin, in pub bands of different kinds. Most of the poems I’ve written previously have only been publicly shared, adapted as song lyrics, with some of these bands. I also love all things science-fiction."


Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much Jill, we truly appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! We are thrilled to include you in this ongoing series!”

Jill: "Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to be a part of this, Carlo! It is such a privilege."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Jill a little bit better. I most certainly 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 #22 in December!

~
Junior Semil Feb 2019
It seems as if
The ones you wanted
The most.. be the ones
Who torture you the
Most.
I’ma start liking the ones
That I like the less..
and start liking them.. the
Most.
it's ok Dec 2013
Consider consider consider reconsidering
Listen to every single word I say, don’t look at the facts
You’ll be under my wing, sweet little singer
Reverse reverse reverse reversing
Laughing at the television that infects brains with little bugs
Teaching your baby mind how to control your arms and legs
Walk this way, and believe these things are your relief
Talking to drugs, ask ‘em about the way they control the world
Taking over, we’re under over the years
Vineetha Apr 2018
While I worked hard,
it came easy to her,
While she was a natural at it,
I had to grind my way to it.
A thought crossed my mind,
It’s unfair,
I had no flair,
no natural gift to spare,
for it’s meant only for the gifted,
and the blessed.
Upon reconsidering,
I wasn’t impuissant,
I had the vigorous tool of all–
belief in myself,
a clear path to achieve the goal.
Although rudimentary,
still, the one to fetch happiness.
It might take longer,
it might get harder,
but certainly is doable,
for it’s not about the gift, but grit.
Angela Pupino Apr 2015
i’m reconsidering
what it means to
eliminate the space
between two people
Anthem Jan 2017
Sometimes I look at people
as something disposable.
It's never how they said it'd be.
Nothing ever is.
I have my moments
but I know I'm
just a big coward.
Everyone has their moments
but we all know we're
all just a bunch of cowards.
Selfish.
Grandiose.
Narcissistic.
Afraid.
All this freedom is dangerous.
Left free and we're
reconsidering
analyzing
questioning.
If there was a better way to go
we'd have found it by now.
Come close, I have something to tell you.
I'd give up everything I've got
for just a little peace of mind.
Infamous one May 2018
Been a while since I've posted this site has been acting up so I've been waiting it out. So many thoughts on my mind since I have some down time. Not use to being alone but use to it. Always determined but feels like it got me no where been reconsidering my options. Gave up things and sacrificed fear it might no happen so what else should I do or be doing. Writing has given me inner peace coped and let all those haunting memories that taunted me go. Feeling free finding reasons to live.
Ive given my all and want nothing in return but do hate when broken promises are sent my way. I'm always glad to be doing something now nothing is going on so I'm not sure what to do next. Sometimes I feel like I have time other times I feel like it's running out. Sometimes I'm scared dk where I'll end up. Don't always fit in or belong. I've been striving and surviving to get through.
Abby May 2020
Caution
Dynamite
Here lies Pandora's box
Not quite a curse
Not quite a dark pit
But a diamond
So sharp
It will open up your wounds
Just by looking at it
Open with caution
Open with care
In fact
Consider not opening the box
Consider that the brightness
Is as sharp as the edge
Consider reconsidering
Re-reading your journals
I wrote it after I was sorting through old journals and opened one and BAM, I was on the floor in FLOODS of tears. They are now in a box awaiting a hand written warning/note to self.
Jack Jenkins Dec 2016
This is my coffin
I dug the hole six feet deep
It's actually quite comfortable
Except soon I can't breathe

I laid down in it
Then nailed it shut with headless nails
Pulled the string to let the dirt bury me
Ignited a glow stick so I won't be in the dark

Except now I'm reconsidering
The life of the afterlife
I'm thinking I signed my death warrant
A little bit too hastily

So now I'm six feet under
Dying and wanting to live
Looks like I'm in need of a savior
But nobody knows where I am
Written 3 February 2016... schizophrenia...
Ken Pepiton Jul 14
Not allowed, read a book.

------------------
Yes, people do read books,
but many do not really read
as when a summer boredom

takes a kid to Grandpa's book shelf,
aha, look a book my grandfather read,

now, this kid is reading Magnificent Obsession,

and I sow the counter punch, with Jesse Duplantis
secret sowing prosperity message arisen from that.
Bilk, tilt, ah, Tilton and Alamo, too, obsessed
with the shine, serpent on a pole,
not the wise one tippy tail on this very point. You know?

Advertised wisdom for the attention paid,
watch the candle flicker, these are holy candles,
all the work of actual pollinators, raised on clover,

which we also feed our red heifers which we breed,
just in case, some day the businesses of mass
religion agree to stop selling fear of totally

insane influencers of thousands, in the days
of billions believing time ends, right after

News from yesterday,
while lythium ion carry ons

are brought to public attention, then an ad,

then there is healthier handsomer than in a while
Biden being physically older than NATO, really not
which he takes credit for, make note, just in case,
it turns out not to have been
so good a deal, we sell bombs, that we buy
to create jobs, we play cop, and currency
goes global, well, who's left to pay
for all these unused bombs?
-------------
Credit from Mali,
when
Shield our augmented eyes, to look into ever before,
gold held holds worth in ways we never imagined,
look out there, a million miles away a long now,

conception of LaGrange points and Roche limits

how come the earth to be, right here,
we ask but only liars venture a valid wager,

we may know now more than ever,
should we ever dare, one entire day,

in a time when a grandfather involved
in our information intended to reform,
the duty of Jubilee to the story,
after fifty years of never reconsidering
the need an almighty entity might have,

as an addiction, praise and honor and glory,
amen, it always spills onto the anointed message,

yes, His holy word,
as prophets hear spoken in lost angel tongues,
no lie can be told, bold as hell, is professed to be,
"Prove me now, if the authority… allows"

tell me, child,
do you really know what believing does?

Slight smile in the zone of thinking either real
or answered prayer, on earth as my perfected will

well may imagine

utilizing… using for the paid attention,
way long time ago, your granny prayed, god give
this boy the good sense you give green apples,

and I'd be ****** if I said he didn't.
Far as I can tell, mustard knows a little more.
Kids are laughing, it is 80 degrees, no humidity, and you can imagine
pines and hemlocks seeming to flavor the wind...
Human Feb 2019
we try our best to change the ****
to stop the ****
or at least to cut down
we cant help it tho
it can adjust about every frown

as it turns out **** can change us
to better and to worst too
there's a dilemma, a current struggle
honestly, its all just a huge fuss
but more like a mildly muddy puddle

i write all this and share it here
since there is no other place
for if others found out id fear
punishment, concurrences, and more
i cant leave a trace

i am in some sort of pit or hill
stuck below or above
it sorta depends on the power of will
its either that or the other no in between

**** helped a lot to some extent
yet made some things worse
it got harder and harder to deal with life
i'm currently reconsidering searching for a provider, a source

it was all too hard
getting my brain to function
getting rid of tension
getting my emotions involved
it sure was a struggle to eat
and to interact with the people i meet

for those of u who know and understand
i'd rather dissociate and float than remain on land
perhaps you can relate
but the thing is now
i gotta figure this out somehow

sure people on the spectrum are more likely to get psychosis
with OCD and TTM
yea whatever its a confirmed diagnosis

i realised tho that **** actually helped for a while
it got my stress and anxiety down
ya i know this isn't much of a poem, its another style
but there's nowhere to share but here
that's how i initially began typing
ill keep trying and fighting

so here it comes
the question that lingers
it has to do with my thumbs and fingers

can i stop or can i not?
do i start **** again or do i not?
will it help me or will it not?
will the whole thing be eventually worth it or will it not?

idk i am yet to decide
OCD: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
TTM: Trichotillomania

i don't wanna seem desperate but i already made it clear that i am.
HMU with advice, suggestions, responses, or wtv u got
Nicole Fox Nov 2020
i'm scared to speak of her
it validates her existence
***** her from the crevices of my mind
and places her on this piece of paper

as if she's on the same level
as some work of art.
she begs
to be shown off,
bragged about.

she's usually more subtle
historically she
shrunk my waist
and my legs
and my arms
and my strength

but she's ******* gorgeous
people love to see her
mistaking her for
health

ha.

she demands the affection of others
and worst of all
convinces you to do the same.
reinforcing every choice
that led you here

do you realize
how many choices that is?

every glance in a mirror,
bite, meal, event,
run, walk,
exercise in general,
photo, social media,
shopping, outfits,
the way that you sit,
feeling parts of your body,
checking,
and rechecking,
and rechecking.
all to make sure
they fit her ridiculous ******* standards.

she's unreachable
until she kills you
and even then
you still won't be thin enough.

she doesn't stop at thin, either
she's permeated my confidence
stained it,
trashed it. to be honest.

she's not even real
but my god does it feel that way
i hear her
allthegoddamntime

i've starved her for years

that's not true.

i like to think i have, though.
pretending to be stronger than i am
i'm faking it but still
not even close to making it
out okay.

i've breadcrumbed her

i haven't starved the way she likes since ninth grade
but i've become """health conscious"""

i eat
but i eat healthily.
i check ingredients on almost everything in the supermarket.
i don't cook or bake anything
that didn't come from a health food blog.
i run, i hike,
i still sometimes google my calorie burn

every morning, every outfit, every window and mirror,
every shower, every photo,
every time i ******* think about it
i check my body

i check my body
so much
that i don't even know how many
times per day that it happens
constantly
measuring and reconsidering my self worth

so, no,
i'm not starving anymore
i haven't been for years.
but i still feel like her prisoner

and i keep feeding her

and i work in ******* therapy
i know i have control
my helplessness is an illusion

i'm just
so
tired
of
fighting
this
endless,
exhausting,
ridiculouslystupidcomparedtosomanyotherthin­gs
battle
with her.
this was terrifying but also comforting
Brian McDonagh Apr 2018
Often, I trick myself into thinking
It’s just a one-time feeling;
My, how I can fool myself
Into reconsidering my thoughts and feelings:
“What am I doing?”
“What am I thinking?” flow life’s inquiries.

I’m not a fool that I know I’m a fool
For speeding blood-flow in a beautiful woman’s presence.
Perhaps I can fake that I don’t notice
Or maybe say something for once.

Maybe about her hair
As it thickens, folds, threads, waves.
Or could it be a new style in my eyes?
Leave it to heart
To end up finding out.

Why do I stumble, my eyes?
And see what may divert my stir?
Don’t you see beauty in real-time, my eyes?
Such is pretend: imagery, photo-shopping.

See the royal richness before you, my eyes!
See the eyes across from you!
Open your heart, my eyes, to see that she, in her stare,
Has open her heart unto you!

She may blow a kiss; she may not
But her mouth is wonderful just the same.
Her lips say “Stay with me”
Without stretching to romantically whisper.

Could I hold your hand?
May I kiss your cheek?
I am simply honored to be
With you, a heart near to my own!

How I wish there was a way
To express love with more emotion;
For the idea, the thought drives me
To find a powerful way,
Such that I may let you know
You mean more beyond imagination!
More than they eye may fall prey to believe!

To continue my words to you,
May I play you a melody on the 88 keys?
To hear your voice hug the air
With an anthem that you love
An anthem that comforts and brings together?

As the rain might fall
I’ll hold you under my umbrella;
Your face shaded in half under its protection
Firing a pulsing launch of blood in me!

I am honored to be next to you
Breathing in a neighboring air;
Though a flower wilts when away from ground
I will not let such a blossom as you go parched!
You, a precious bloom, a luring beauty
Tell me what makes you grow and I
Will feed it to you, “amor mea.”

Why must I let the simple opticals
Distract me from the beauty I see?
She is attractive so; why must my mind
Break free and wander?
Such is my weakness; Love, you fortify my low energy.

Do not think, Love
That I come to you to remain alive!
No! There are many a vital aid
But I want you for more than your beauty
More than because you understand me.

I want you for you!
Listen, I do struggle mentally
To see your beauty all around
But you always see it in me!
Teach me! Be my guide!
Society restricts women, past and forward;
Remember, I am your equal
But as long as I am with you, you are
The better half!
I fault to fight the statement
But it’s truth, and I want to chase you
My reality, partner; my abstract; my truth
All in the same woman wonder!
The title is all in the Latin language, translating "All I see is the beauty of a woman."  Enjoy!
R B M Dec 2019
I tried therapy
Back when I didn’t think I needed it
My family split.
So my mom brought me in
But I didn’t have anything to say
I wasn’t sad yet
And I didn’t feel as if the whole world was against me yet
But now I’m reconsidering
Nola May 2020
In this moment, lost and forgotten
Reconsidering atonement, but the truth never to be spoken
And ill leave, im abounded and sore
And every night, it just hurts a little more
In the end im afraid
One last step, into abyss ive created
This virus is plaguing my soul
And before u know it, im swallowed by it whole
No rest for the wicked and insane
I gave it my all, but there's not much to gain
And im not okay, im afraid
Im loosing this battle inside of my brain
It's all been said before
Buried deep within this metaphor
But this life aint what i settled for
Abstract visions of what i used to be, are never more.
But there's a hope between ocean and shore
Between our feelings locked up inside of a box ill never tore
This reality is just a trap door
And if u know how to escape it, ull appreciate life as u never did before
If u have the courage, if u have the valour
Everything will fall into place, everything u adore
Bri Neves Jun 2012
Take this palate; it’s for your face.
It’s for the mind that you wear
Needlessly when everything
Can be solved with just a little
Tweaking—a touch of the keys
Or a heart softly reconsidering
It’s beating.
Your problems will be solved soon.
Just leave behind your story
Before you sentence yourself
To a fatal pile
Of remorse and ruins reminiscing
What you once remembered you might have had.
Though no one is ever sure anymore.
Come back and finish
What you started
And if you must die, please just
Let me say goodbye.
Michael Perry Feb 2020
WALK AWAY

like a spring snow, passing over our heads, burying us deep
within whose depths, it was hard to see, without knowing
for sure, the feelings we had in mind, precious but hard to keep

here we were, ready to succumb, while seeking so much more
It passed us by time and again, unable to see, what the heart was for

whether right or wrong, both our feelings were ignored, for awhile
tossing them aside, exaggerated, justified, or simply nullified

should I, would she, just walk away this time, for all that we know
or take one step back, to being worthwhile, make a flame grow

should I, will she, could we, just stop, taking a page from fate
reconsidering it all, to make it better, fix it before it breaks
so that we can go forward and move beyond our love stalemate

be it a mistake, misunderstanding, or else the consequence
of a heart, figuring out what it needs, whether fight or flee
left up to happenstance, it never crossed our minds, to walk away

we fought our way back, trying to survive, against the tide
like a sea storm swelling, the ebb and flow, in and out
searching the moon and stars, struggling, till we got it right

now with eyes wide, and our love where it belongs, we know the score,
letting the heavens fully align, to be our guide, from behind closed doors

be it a mistake, misunderstanding, or else the consequence
of a heart, figuring out what it needs, whether fight or flee
left up to happenstance, it never crossed our minds, to walk away

By Michael Perry

— The End —