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"remained" poems
1. your precious smile, that never failed to shine; a heaven-sent beam, that made my heart your realm. 2. your tenderness, that gave me bliss; how could someone be like you, so dearly? 3. your good vibes, that surpassed all tribes in giving off the positivity i need for my stubborn reality. 4. your talents, that awakened everyone's hearts; you are my significant inspiration, you give life to my life's ambition. 5. your humility, that's filled with sincerity. while everyone else is toplofty, you remained lowly. not everyone as wonderful as you, could show meekness too. 6. the happiness you shared, at times when smiling is something i never dared; darling, it meant everything. 7. for your meaningful silence, that gave me a better comprehension. although your stillness was tense, i knew in my heart it was never a rejection. 8. for your music, that never halts to flourish. music, your depiction of aesthetic; through you, the melody will never tarnish. 9. for being your genuine self, you gave me potency to do the same. shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to end that witless game. 10. for bringing me daily sunshine, for setting the moon & the stars aligned; my everyday became better, and i will treasure you forever. there are way more reasons on why i love you for real. through the passing seasons i could slowly & slowly reveal and show you how i truly feel. as time passes us by, i would no longer hesitate and keep my sentiments ensconced. through the coming weeks, months and years, as long as we have all the time i would dauntlessly lay out to you that the way i feel for you is true.
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Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
10 reasons why i love you.
1. your precious smile, that never failed to shine; a heaven-sent beam, that made my heart your realm. 2. your tenderness, that gave me bliss; how could someone be like you, so dearly? 3. your good vibes, that surpassed all tribes in giving off the positivity i need for my stubborn reality. 4. your talents, that awakened everyone's hearts; you are my significant inspiration, you give life to my life's ambition. 5. your humility, that's filled with sincerity. while everyone else is toplofty, you remained lowly. not everyone as wonderful as you, could show meekness too. 6. the happiness you shared, at times when smiling is something i never dared; darling, it meant everything. 7. for your meaningful silence, that gave me a better comprehension. although your stillness was tense, i knew in my heart it was never a rejection. 8. for your music, that never halts to flourish. music, your depiction of aesthetic; through you, the melody will never tarnish. 9. for being your genuine self, you gave me potency to do the same. shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to end that witless game. 10. for bringing me daily sunshine, for setting the moon & the stars aligned; my everyday became better, and i will treasure you forever. there are way more reasons on why i love you for real. through the passing seasons i could slowly & slowly reveal and show you how i truly feel. as time passes us by, i would no longer hesitate and keep my sentiments ensconced. through the coming weeks, months and years, as long as we have all the time i would dauntlessly lay out to you that the way i feel for you is true.
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54
It's never quite right, he said, the way people look, the way the music sounds, the way the words are written. It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we die, all the lives we live, they are never quite right, they are hardly close to right, these lives we live one after the other, piled there as history, the waste of the species, the crushing of the light and the way, it's not quite right, it's hardly right at all he said. don't I know it? I answered. I walked away from the mirror. it was morning, it was afternoon, it was night nothing changed it was locked in place. something flashed, something broke, something remained. I walked down the stairway and into it.
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57.7k
Cut While Shaving
The moon is still hanging low since it came down so close. The seven seas dance beneath her polished feet but could never touch it. Then the intact moon, in fact, did unleash only when one popped out ahead of the rest. Down from the earth luminary Muhammad Peace be upon him pointed his finger towards it and into two halves did the Moon split! But the man wouldn’t touch it and remained with us all with every human the Moon dwarfs!
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
Muhammad (PBUH) So Humble
The night under the mirror went through a revolving door. ~~~~ Eventually I did put a face to  your loving cues your emails It had been so long since your destiny had asked you my King to marry her that hunting jealous day that began much earlier under a 1975 degree celcious and did burn us to a crisp Nothing would have given me more assurance more pleasure  such a gracious challenge to a  mysterious proposition to dig my heart for the final blow one queen for his other prior queen bee me Karijinbba and a winner I would have been all night with my King under the mirror! to obliterate her wedding band from his hand how loving of you cupid of mine always digging at my heart for my heart of gold then came cause and effect of karma blowing up our plans another King Brad appeared with roses and diamond ring in hand he had no mask just an hidden agenda he took my children to his Mom to make his other queenjealous and I took the bate for just one hour both my King and Brad had chosen he same photo E-mailed among several to both single men seeking bride at Kiss com. my lovely picture was the same summer dress I wore with the king I loved as someone something from above and beyond mirrored the scene in my life a kind of cause and effect it showed my old beloved a simple approach to a woman's heart and me that the woman he married giving her a diamond ring taking her and son to his Mom was more to make me jealous too fight for his love an invisible revolving door had opened up both to win my lover back or to lose both Knights fate life karma G** had bid the greatest game of love and twin souls remained split bleeding both men found a way to another woman playing their game I was sent to worship my Lord Jesus Christ mocking me beware of Karma or THINK and get rich and happy to catch a true king FOCUS don't take bates, don't settle for new when the heart is taken  by a true love not followed. My king was found by his mate and I returned Brads diamond lesson played leasson learned Then came the clock ticking tax collector King Mr Time he took my hand paper INK and pen to script a new poem its Winter he said, HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO KISS YOU? and a new revolving door appeared here at H.P. ~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba Copy Rights ASG/BBA -revised 6/2020.
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Night under the mirror
The night under the mirror went through a revolving door. ~~~~ Eventually I did put a face to  your loving cues your emails It had been so long since your destiny had asked you my King to marry her that hunting jealous day that began much earlier under a 1975 degree celcious and did burn us to a crisp Nothing would have given me more assurance more pleasure  such a gracious challenge to a  mysterious proposition to dig my heart for the final blow one queen for his other prior queen bee me Karijinbba and a winner I would have been all night with my King under the mirror! to obliterate her wedding band from his hand how loving of you cupid of mine always digging at my heart for my heart of gold then came cause and effect of karma blowing up our plans another King Brad appeared with roses and diamond ring in hand he had no mask just an hidden agenda he took my children to his Mom to make his other queenjealous and I took the bate for just one hour both my King and Brad had chosen he same photo E-mailed among several to both single men seeking bride at Kiss com. my lovely picture was the same summer dress I wore with the king I loved as someone something from above and beyond mirrored the scene in my life a kind of cause and effect it showed my old beloved a simple approach to a woman's heart and me that the woman he married giving her a diamond ring taking her and son to his Mom was more to make me jealous too fight for his love an invisible revolving door had opened up both to win my lover back or to lose both Knights fate life karma G** had bid the greatest game of love and twin souls remained split bleeding both men found a way to another woman playing their game I was sent to worship my Lord Jesus Christ mocking me beware of Karma or THINK and get rich and happy to catch a true king FOCUS don't take bates, don't settle for new when the heart is taken  by a true love not followed. My king was found by his mate and I returned Brads diamond lesson played leasson learned Then came the clock ticking tax collector King Mr Time he took my hand paper INK and pen to script a new poem its Winter he said, HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO KISS YOU? and a new revolving door appeared here at H.P. ~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba Copy Rights ASG/BBA -revised 6/2020.
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70
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
f*** the stars
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
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73
Let's think about it Discuss it out In a team of more than two Always it has remained important to take views of all. Let each and everyone get a moment or two Once thought and decided upon something Then it’s time to take a proper line of action. Between probablity and priority Between the two of them Priority will get the upper hand Priority will get an advantage Hence always decide upon something definite In one way or other, Some sort of solution to the existing problem will definitely come out While working as a team it has always remained important to put the right efforts in the right direction.
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
Teamwork
Cold, blue, wet, fragile, brittle, hard, steam solidified, water hardened, anger, fear, white, tensile, steam solidified, water hardened; you lie in her wintered veins. why? "If she's awake, I'll **** you." staccato words spoken like a knife blade thrown... ...with malice and intent. Her father's voice from the bedroom next door no sound of her mother. The female child cowered under her candy-striped sheets their usual soft comfort unnoticed footsteps door handle moving light seeping into her sanctuary her heart thudded trying to escape her chest as she held her breath. "Please, please don't hear me." a silent plea as fear snatched her in its icy grip. She could smell him smell the cigarettes smell his power. She waited. He backed out returned to her mother between her heartbeats she heard the slap "You are lucky this time, ***** She sleeps." Heavy footsteps down the stairs punctuated by her mother's tears.                             ~~~~~~~~~~~ The girl child had only ever blamed her mother decades of anger and bitterness the memory of this night buried deep. Crazed hard ice beneath the tundra of her life. In the third decade of the girl child's life her mother died alone never forgiven for what she hadn't done nor for what she had. The ice remained in the girl child's veins If anything, thicker...harder. Then in her fifth decade this ice became water as with the passage of life the tundra thawed and rising with it to the surface the truth. Then what? The girl child worked hard at staying warm at keeping the ice at bay. Not easy. Nothing was ever said to her father. In her sixth decade the girl child's father died embraced in his daughter's arms forgiven for what he had done and for what he hadn't. The woman had finally thawed she was properly warm her own love finally able to flow
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Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
ice
Cold, blue, wet, fragile, brittle, hard, steam solidified, water hardened, anger, fear, white, tensile, steam solidified, water hardened; you lie in her wintered veins. why? "If she's awake, I'll **** you." staccato words spoken like a knife blade thrown... ...with malice and intent. Her father's voice from the bedroom next door no sound of her mother. The female child cowered under her candy-striped sheets their usual soft comfort unnoticed footsteps door handle moving light seeping into her sanctuary her heart thudded trying to escape her chest as she held her breath. "Please, please don't hear me." a silent plea as fear snatched her in its icy grip. She could smell him smell the cigarettes smell his power. She waited. He backed out returned to her mother between her heartbeats she heard the slap "You are lucky this time, ***** She sleeps." Heavy footsteps down the stairs punctuated by her mother's tears.                             ~~~~~~~~~~~ The girl child had only ever blamed her mother decades of anger and bitterness the memory of this night buried deep. Crazed hard ice beneath the tundra of her life. In the third decade of the girl child's life her mother died alone never forgiven for what she hadn't done nor for what she had. The ice remained in the girl child's veins If anything, thicker...harder. Then in her fifth decade this ice became water as with the passage of life the tundra thawed and rising with it to the surface the truth. Then what? The girl child worked hard at staying warm at keeping the ice at bay. Not easy. Nothing was ever said to her father. In her sixth decade the girl child's father died embraced in his daughter's arms forgiven for what he had done and for what he hadn't. The woman had finally thawed she was properly warm her own love finally able to flow
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66
my childhood was removed from me inside of a blue mustang and what remained after that I tried to barter off the highest bidder but I grew, not up, but forward further away slowly releasing hands of defiance fists chock full of hopeless words like anger, the flavor that aches the bone, the cold kind, more barren than the green of Christmas lights glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence overeager, in the apathy of theatrics, to strip off the remainder because the empty feeling that followed might one day make a decent poem
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
blue
test me my waters have remained constant rippling, reaching as far as the eye can see into the horizon; the water surrounds me my knowledge is useless when drowning in these waters; i can only flail desperately as my movements create ripples out into the open sea all these efforts all in vain all in my vein blood rushing out like the sea, light then heavy then strong like the sea, with a strong smell of salt this time, the waters are red and they reek of iron test my waters they’ve been stained crimson with my lifeline
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Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
waters
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE ! Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever remained a mystery! There are no permanent equations to resolve, Love's unseen wave like force! It travels through three dimensional space, At frequencies higher than electromagnetic waves! It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed, or clime, Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine! It generates a magnetic force field, making two hearts in unison beat! Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called (PEA) Phenylethylamine, - Triggers loves molecules in the human mind! Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say, And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day! The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to glow and feel fine, When they live on love and fresh air and may even forget to dine! While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our adrenaline production, Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous motion! But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical',  requires constant contact for its effects to prevail! Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail, Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail! Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation, Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic potion! But such feelings remain for a limited duration, Varying with people with different emotions! In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, - And they frequently require a PEA fix! But those who stick to a single mate, Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content! And finally when infatuation gradually subsides, Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes, When calmness and stability with loving bond prevails! This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive, And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, - which are rather seductive! (All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE!
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE ! Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever remained a mystery! There are no permanent equations to resolve, Love's unseen wave like force! It travels through three dimensional space, At frequencies higher than electromagnetic waves! It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed, or clime, Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine! It generates a magnetic force field, making two hearts in unison beat! Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called (PEA) Phenylethylamine, - Triggers loves molecules in the human mind! Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say, And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day! The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to glow and feel fine, When they live on love and fresh air and may even forget to dine! While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our adrenaline production, Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous motion! But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical',  requires constant contact for its effects to prevail! Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail, Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail! Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation, Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic potion! But such feelings remain for a limited duration, Varying with people with different emotions! In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, - And they frequently require a PEA fix! But those who stick to a single mate, Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content! And finally when infatuation gradually subsides, Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes, When calmness and stability with loving bond prevails! This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive, And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, - which are rather seductive! (All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
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49
Heartbreak, isn't as easy as it looks. You took my heart, Put it on hooks, And butchered Whatever remained. Now it will never work the same. Yet still I see your name And that heart ache becomes, A mobile destructive vortex Of violently rotating winds A funnel-shaped cloud Attached to a large storm system. Yes, heartbreak is like a tornado, That spirals within me, Each time I think of you, Tearing and ripping, And pulling me through. Nothing could prepare me for this weather. Yet I can't imagine anything better, I prefer to face this tornado everyday, It will, Remind me, Of you, Forever.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Tornado
To my Daddy on Father's Day When I was young and small, I was your little girl. As I grew and grew, I stayed your little girl. Now, 18 years later, I'm still your little girl. When I am twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty, I will still be your little girl. No matter where I go, Or how old I grow, I will still be, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my cheerlearder, Calling and whistling from the stands, Since I was smaller and tinier Than all those who played. You were my coach, Helping me and teaching me Giving me confidence Showing me what it meant to be an athlete. I took what you taught me And applied it to my life Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my personal chef, Teaching me to love the finer foods And that cooking is an art. Healthy and not Food was to be treated specially Cooked and baked just right. Nothing has ever compared to what you have made. Spoiled and exposed to the best Making me, Forever and always Your little girl You were my supporter, When I was upset and had nowhere to turn. You taught me to be tough And to be strong. You said I could do anything, Be anything I wanted, That being a girl made no difference. You taught me to love myself, To take care of myself To defend and stand up for myself, Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. When I was small and tiny, I was your little girl. As I grew, I remained you little girl. Today I am you little girl. Tomorrow and the day after I will be your little girl. No matter where I go, No matter how old I grow, No matter where you are, No matter how old you are, I will Forever and always Be your little girl. Happy Daddy's Day I love you <3
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Daddy's Little Girl (Forever and Always)
To my Daddy on Father's Day When I was young and small, I was your little girl. As I grew and grew, I stayed your little girl. Now, 18 years later, I'm still your little girl. When I am twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty, I will still be your little girl. No matter where I go, Or how old I grow, I will still be, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my cheerlearder, Calling and whistling from the stands, Since I was smaller and tinier Than all those who played. You were my coach, Helping me and teaching me Giving me confidence Showing me what it meant to be an athlete. I took what you taught me And applied it to my life Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my personal chef, Teaching me to love the finer foods And that cooking is an art. Healthy and not Food was to be treated specially Cooked and baked just right. Nothing has ever compared to what you have made. Spoiled and exposed to the best Making me, Forever and always Your little girl You were my supporter, When I was upset and had nowhere to turn. You taught me to be tough And to be strong. You said I could do anything, Be anything I wanted, That being a girl made no difference. You taught me to love myself, To take care of myself To defend and stand up for myself, Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. When I was small and tiny, I was your little girl. As I grew, I remained you little girl. Today I am you little girl. Tomorrow and the day after I will be your little girl. No matter where I go, No matter how old I grow, No matter where you are, No matter how old you are, I will Forever and always Be your little girl. Happy Daddy's Day I love you <3
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71
Somewhere Somehow I can’t identify when it changed. I saw things differently, my eyes no longer covered by an opaque way of thinking. Sunshine brightened this world with unimagined colors, butterflies broke free, songbirds warbled lovely tunes. Amidst emerging beauty words became every day’s lifeblood; I found my voice. All around me, there was change, yet everything remained the same. For it was me that changed. Reborn, rewired. My heart drummed a brand new beat. Driven by transformation, I wrote. I write. Adding a dash of color. Singing harmony to surrounding melodies. I am changing. I am writing. I am a poet.
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Changed and Changing
After lengthy days of torment and grief Braving the cold, remained the last leaf Feeling the slightest breeze She slowly danced with grace and ease Like a ballerina driven by the sound of her heartbeat She made her final dance And with her gorgeous golden autumn wings She’s now ready for winter’s frigid embrace
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Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 6:07 AM UTC
Final Dance
When they buried me in the dark, I was frightened. I didn’t like the taste of earth. And I was so thirsty. Some people are no good with plants, Even the hardiest shrubs Wither and wilt in their careless hands. You aren’t one of them. When no-one else could see, You took such good care of me. Water, warmth and love. These are my needs, but I had no voice With which to ask; without you I would have remained inert A lost life, in the dirt. See now, how I blossom? Just a shoot, but I will astound them all With my beauty, in time. Thank you for caring for me, Thank you for helping me to grow.
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Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 6:40 AM UTC
The Gardener and The Seed
Before all of this, even after all of this, I will forever be a patriot. Before the poet in me matured and I started talking like a parrot, The dogs of war barked and I climbed exile's fence on my own And there I have dwelled, with nothing tangible to bring me down. I have been on this fence so long and I will remain there forever! Especially since the premature child is still in the incubator. From this vantage point, I have learned never to trust any politician I've always looked at them with mistrust, disdain, and suspicion, Before all of this  and before I ran and climbed the exile fence, I was once mercilessly flogged, dragged and made to dance By drugged up and coerced child soldiers with a rubber cable They tied and spread me like a dog on the market table I watched as innocent people were killed with a rusty knife There, I vowed to become a fence dweller for the rest of my life! I've been a patriot all my life but I have done it from here..safer. From here I have seen blood spilled, hearts broken, hopes dashed, progresses stalled, mullions embezzled, promises broken, lies told people changed, games played, party surfed, interests prioritized. And from this vantage point, I have learned never ever to trust any politician I have always been right...though I have looked on with disdain, suspicion, and operated with caution but through it all, I have remained a true patriot and a fence dweller. .✍️©️✍️IvanBrooksPoetry.✍️©️✍️
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Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
The Fence Dweller
There you are again, Standing under the rain. Your mind filled with thoughts That cannot be explained. A wave of emotions flow through you, Sadness, happiness, anger, regret. In pain because you confessed The things that should've remained unsaid. Unsure how much time has passed, As you stare blankly at the gloomy sky. Recalling the memories you've had together, Knowing they're precious and unlike any other. You start to take a single step, As you plan your next move. Because now you have to accept the truth, That things won't go back to the way they used to.
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC
Under the Drizzling Rain
My parents gave me a pink childhood framed with lace and luxury-- but a black stain has spread there, deep as the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about what people are capable of, and how they can stand hanging a mirror in every bathroom, because water cannot clean people of the lie they told their brother or the betrayal inflicted against their friend, some wrongs of which may never be realized, but will always remain in the form of a new freckle on my left cheek or shadow beneath my eye. And I am sorry, because I should have sooner heeded my mother’s words when she told me I was the moral compass grounding you stonedust streets. Your childhood resembled a light bulb broken before it tasted electricity, no one taught you North from South and how different the terrain may become when you find yourself in the mountains with only sandals on your feet. I had been that for you, and you told me as much every weekend we spent riding in the bed of my father’s pickup truck and shouting against wind-gusts that threatened to carry our voices away from one another-- I have sinced learned there are many ways to **** a person. I killed you when I stole your sense of direction like floorboards from beneath your cracked and bleeding feet, and allowed you to fall--who knows how far-- landing in a pile of skin-biting needles and leftover sediment, the very bottom of brown-glass bottles strewn across the floor. Staying would have saved you, I’m sure, and I’ll never forget that I turned away out of fear, cowardice, because I hated the sight of your skin-and-bone crowd, friends in name but not in heart, and left you lost among them, And you who knew no better remained, your humanity expelled with each smoke-laden breath and then evaporating, nonextant.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
The Second Macbeth
My parents gave me a pink childhood framed with lace and luxury-- but a black stain has spread there, deep as the amount of time I’ve spent thinking about what people are capable of, and how they can stand hanging a mirror in every bathroom, because water cannot clean people of the lie they told their brother or the betrayal inflicted against their friend, some wrongs of which may never be realized, but will always remain in the form of a new freckle on my left cheek or shadow beneath my eye. And I am sorry, because I should have sooner heeded my mother’s words when she told me I was the moral compass grounding you stonedust streets. Your childhood resembled a light bulb broken before it tasted electricity, no one taught you North from South and how different the terrain may become when you find yourself in the mountains with only sandals on your feet. I had been that for you, and you told me as much every weekend we spent riding in the bed of my father’s pickup truck and shouting against wind-gusts that threatened to carry our voices away from one another-- I have sinced learned there are many ways to **** a person. I killed you when I stole your sense of direction like floorboards from beneath your cracked and bleeding feet, and allowed you to fall--who knows how far-- landing in a pile of skin-biting needles and leftover sediment, the very bottom of brown-glass bottles strewn across the floor. Staying would have saved you, I’m sure, and I’ll never forget that I turned away out of fear, cowardice, because I hated the sight of your skin-and-bone crowd, friends in name but not in heart, and left you lost among them, And you who knew no better remained, your humanity expelled with each smoke-laden breath and then evaporating, nonextant.
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25
to exonerate the clippings they took the back road to oswega the tudor house rabbits had long lost their heads (presumably to the ***** and what remained of the landscape was dead and dry and orange that happy home on the brink of cattle loop was now gull grey the needles and stragglers from shady bay remained (in growing numbers) on the outskirts of the driven back park the once fabled town of horse drawn tours and dignitaries was stone washed ~ on the back of it's government docks sat decrepit toppers set against the high tide beside the lighthouse and its measured song flutes and fiddlers and acoustic sitars ride the accompaniment nose rings and signage in the hands of staged protesters the sickly spit strewn with tidal run and ocean bags hedgerows trimmed along the sea side rolling hills fade adjacent the chuck mint juleps and flop hats peak on the parade clydesdales and royals blinded in the back
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Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 2:41 PM UTC
beacon hill pass
she dances on the soles of her exhausted feet moving her arms with grace and femininity she kept her balance as the beads of sweat ran down her forehead with great posture she bowed and no one clapped, so she remained graceful and left the stage
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
BALLERINA
What Hope Remained? What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When putrid plumes dulled morning into night         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,         As mortals wept and earthborn angels went         With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament         And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent         As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent         To scale a void devoid of dawning light. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         For those in sight of angels heaven sent         Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.         When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent         To gift last hope to all who saw their might:                 What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?                 Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent. In The Fall I chanced upon a stranger in the fall, Cosmetic garb of office black and white Portraying calm demeanor of his plight As shadows panicked on a stricken wall, And oft' I find my mind in numb recall To look upon that helpless human kite Who tumbled from the terrors of a height, Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall Of twisted steel rended by follied flight, That stranger lives forever in the light Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.         I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,         Did he derive the meaning of it all?
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Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
Villanelle and Sonnet
What Hope Remained? What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When putrid plumes dulled morning into night         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,         As mortals wept and earthborn angels went         With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament         And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent         As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent         To scale a void devoid of dawning light. What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?         For those in sight of angels heaven sent         Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,         Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.         When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent         To gift last hope to all who saw their might:                 What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?                 Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent. In The Fall I chanced upon a stranger in the fall, Cosmetic garb of office black and white Portraying calm demeanor of his plight As shadows panicked on a stricken wall, And oft' I find my mind in numb recall To look upon that helpless human kite Who tumbled from the terrors of a height, Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall Of twisted steel rended by follied flight, That stranger lives forever in the light Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.         I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,         Did he derive the meaning of it all?
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35
In fair Verona where Will set the scene Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down. Two households both alike in dignity Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground. When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance Events were set in motion that, perchance, Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride but ultimately result in her suicide. With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead, And Capulet and Montague estranged. Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed not knowing of her loss of maiden-head. Romeo was banished for his crime, a sin for which a peasant would have died Their two households, joined because they wed, remained divided by their foolish pride. Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air, oppressive in the absence of a breeze. With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead, as if struck down by some unknown disease Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets. A draught of deadly poison he obtained So they might sleep together once again. When Romeo met Paris at her tomb, Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead. Would not the world have been a better place if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead? Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down- the only son of Montague now dead. Perchance just then fair Juliet revives Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead. Authorities, arriving at the scene, could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost. Capulet and Montague were reconciled Their amity bought at a fearful cost.
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Juliet and Romeo
An odor has remained among the sugarcane: a mixture of blood and body, a penetrating petal that brings nausea. Between the coconut palms the graves are full of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles. The delicate dictator is talking with top hats, gold braid, and collars. The tiny palace gleams like a watch and the rapid laughs with gloves on cross the corridors at times and join the dead voices and the blue mouths freshly buried. The weeping cannot be seen, like a plant whose seeds fall endlessly on the earth, whose large blind leaves grow even without light. Hatred has grown scale on scale, blow on blow, in the ghastly water of the swamp, with a snout full of ooze and silence
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The Dictators