"rhiannon" poems - Hello Poetry

*“Up above my head I hear music in the air I really do believe I really do believe there's a Heaven somewhere”* --Rhiannon Giddens *“Is that all there is?” --Peggy Lee* An old philosopher told me this: “About heaven. Let’s say there’s more than one. There’s the one where souls are lurid with perfection, piled into bliss, dreaming of change. “There’s the one people search for to fit the story they tell themselves. I looked for it. I watched the sky. I found only words. Blue sky is a blank page. Clouds are garish metaphors. “Then there’s one that follows you. Don’t look for it. You can’t find it. It’s not a place or a path. It dances at the edge of things like old photos or a young face that lives remembered in its older one, an eternal moment always at hand trailing like a thought balloon, a shadow cast by nothing, forever unfolding, never now.”

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Jul 3, 2016

Jul 3, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC

david-adamson

Reasons for Watching the Sky (#11)

*“Up above my head I hear music in the air I really do believe I really do believe there's a Heaven somewhere”* --Rhiannon Giddens *“Is that all there is?” --Peggy Lee* An old philosopher told me this: “About heaven. Let’s say there’s more than one. There’s the one where souls are lurid with perfection, piled into bliss, dreaming of change. “There’s the one people search for to fit the story they tell themselves. I looked for it. I watched the sky. I found only words. Blue sky is a blank page. Clouds are garish metaphors. “Then there’s one that follows you. Don’t look for it. You can’t find it. It’s not a place or a path. It dances at the edge of things like old photos or a young face that lives remembered in its older one, an eternal moment always at hand trailing like a thought balloon, a shadow cast by nothing, forever unfolding, never now.”

30

i. on our first date, you ask if i want to learn how to fly. guiding my trembling fingers over the yoke, you introduce me to an old friend, a mechanical anatomy you’ve had memorized since you were sixteen. the first time your hands leave the two of us alone, you watch my terrified eyes and laugh. flying is the easy part, you say. ii. there was a time when explorers would name new lands after people they loved instead of themselves. somehow i’ve never found that idea comforting. it worries me that places out there exist that can wear my name better than i do. on nights when you’re gone, i spend hours trying to picture what an island looks like when it smiles. iii. even as she was bathed in the icy blood of a dying vessel, rose sang a love song to the stars. when i think of romance, i think of hands that dissolve into air so that hearts have to sprout wings just to find each other on the way down. i think of ships of dreams and flying machines. iv. these days, i have stopped waiting for the silhouettes of planes to paint demolition across the sunset. when i’m lonely, i play fleetwood mac records and spin around the apartment until i exorcize all the ghosts. i try to convince myself that when loving rhiannon, no one gets to win. v. on our last night, i ask you what the hardest part of being a pilot is. you unstitch your eyes from the cerulean-sewn skyline and look at me. landing, you say. your hand feels warm in mine.

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Oct 29, 2013

Oct 29, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC

flythevinyl

come josephine

i. on our first date, you ask if i want to learn how to fly. guiding my trembling fingers over the yoke, you introduce me to an old friend, a mechanical anatomy you’ve had memorized since you were sixteen. the first time your hands leave the two of us alone, you watch my terrified eyes and laugh. flying is the easy part, you say. ii. there was a time when explorers would name new lands after people they loved instead of themselves. somehow i’ve never found that idea comforting. it worries me that places out there exist that can wear my name better than i do. on nights when you’re gone, i spend hours trying to picture what an island looks like when it smiles. iii. even as she was bathed in the icy blood of a dying vessel, rose sang a love song to the stars. when i think of romance, i think of hands that dissolve into air so that hearts have to sprout wings just to find each other on the way down. i think of ships of dreams and flying machines. iv. these days, i have stopped waiting for the silhouettes of planes to paint demolition across the sunset. when i’m lonely, i play fleetwood mac records and spin around the apartment until i exorcize all the ghosts. i try to convince myself that when loving rhiannon, no one gets to win. v. on our last night, i ask you what the hardest part of being a pilot is. you unstitch your eyes from the cerulean-sewn skyline and look at me. landing, you say. your hand feels warm in mine.

5

Perhaps The Muse, the White Goddess, Erato, Melpomene, Rhiannon, Ceridwen, becomes, one day, a late middle-aged woman with muffin-tops, stuffed into yoga pants she should know better than to wear in public. No matter. Even frumpy, she remains divine, alluring, luminescent, beyond the constraints of mundane fashion, the sharp edges of mortal flesh, Still whispering beauty in the awestruck poet's ear. ~mce

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Dec 29, 2015

Dec 29, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC

mike-essig

Fear Not Time, Ladies

Perhaps The Muse, the White Goddess, Erato, Melpomene, Rhiannon, Ceridwen, becomes, one day, a late middle-aged woman with muffin-tops, stuffed into yoga pants she should know better than to wear in public. No matter. Even frumpy, she remains divine, alluring, luminescent, beyond the constraints of mundane fashion, the sharp edges of mortal flesh, Still whispering beauty in the awestruck poet's ear. ~mce

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There is a cottage by a disused well, And in it lives a strange and haggard crone, Knock on her door and she will give a tell Of future moments yet to you unknown. No crystal ***** or scattered runic tiles, No divinations of the palm or flame, Her forecasts lie in bodies she defiles, The practice of the necromancer's game.

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Sep 28, 2014

Sep 28, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC

adam-latham

Rhiannon The Mystic

There is a cottage by a disused well, And in it lives a strange and haggard crone, Knock on her door and she will give a tell Of future moments yet to you unknown. No crystal ***** or scattered runic tiles, No divinations of the palm or flame, Her forecasts lie in bodies she defiles, The practice of the necromancer's game.

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I am not the blithering, sad poet type. With a foundation comprised of bone dust, brittle petals crumbling at the first sign of danger. Think of me Fondly and fiercely as Persephone's flower Dreaming tenderly upon a case of aging dynamite. - Rhiannon || Yeti Youngblood

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Nov 9, 2020

Nov 9, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC

restrayer

Dynamite.

I am not the blithering, sad poet type. With a foundation comprised of bone dust, brittle petals crumbling at the first sign of danger. Think of me Fondly and fiercely as Persephone's flower Dreaming tenderly upon a case of aging dynamite. - Rhiannon || Yeti Youngblood

12

Wanna know the weirdest part about me? I can barely make the muscles on my face move enough to create a smile, when all I really wanna do is take too many sleeping pills and drown in drowsiness while the world around grows black and silent. But yet I somehow find a way to force myself onward to help pick up those who have fallen when I don't even know where I stand with myself. Hello, meet me, the biggest hypocrite alive. For example, one day at school on my way to 6th period biology, I was having a day alot like today -horrible- and when I got to the top of the steps I saw that one of my classmates, Rhiannon, had fallen and her stuff was scattered. Everyone just walked around her like she wasn't there, except for these cute upperclassman boys who were staring at her with amused smirks on their faces. I didn't find them very cute after that. Rhiannon was always very shy and was never quite popular, some poeple even called her hippo because of her size. But what people probably don't know about her is that girl has one of the biggest hearts and biggest brains I have ever seen. So I helped her up and grabbed her bag and gave the upperclassman boys the meanest look I could conjer up and made small talk with her on the way to class like nothing had happened so she wouldn't feel awkward or the need to say thanks. People like those in the hall that day are the reason I have given up on people and society. They leave people like me to feel even more drained than I already do because I have to help those that they have victimized along the way. Why are they so high and mighty that they can run over who ever the hell they please?

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May 28, 2014

May 28, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC

cynicandasinner

hypocrite hero saves the hippo

Wanna know the weirdest part about me? I can barely make the muscles on my face move enough to create a smile, when all I really wanna do is take too many sleeping pills and drown in drowsiness while the world around grows black and silent. But yet I somehow find a way to force myself onward to help pick up those who have fallen when I don't even know where I stand with myself. Hello, meet me, the biggest hypocrite alive. For example, one day at school on my way to 6th period biology, I was having a day alot like today -horrible- and when I got to the top of the steps I saw that one of my classmates, Rhiannon, had fallen and her stuff was scattered. Everyone just walked around her like she wasn't there, except for these cute upperclassman boys who were staring at her with amused smirks on their faces. I didn't find them very cute after that. Rhiannon was always very shy and was never quite popular, some poeple even called her hippo because of her size. But what people probably don't know about her is that girl has one of the biggest hearts and biggest brains I have ever seen. So I helped her up and grabbed her bag and gave the upperclassman boys the meanest look I could conjer up and made small talk with her on the way to class like nothing had happened so she wouldn't feel awkward or the need to say thanks. People like those in the hall that day are the reason I have given up on people and society. They leave people like me to feel even more drained than I already do because I have to help those that they have victimized along the way. Why are they so high and mighty that they can run over who ever the hell they please?

5

R ight there for me H onest with me I love her and wanna be with her A n it hurts but idc N othing will separate us N ever in O ne millon years N ice to know she dont like me

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Mar 24, 2015

Mar 24, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC

desiree-jackson

Rhiannon

R ight there for me H onest with me I love her and wanna be with her A n it hurts but idc N othing will separate us N ever in O ne millon years N ice to know she dont like me

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This poem is dedicated to 3rd grade, Politicians everywhere, The San Diego Padres, And everyone else who keeps ******* up my **** I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this I am Nothing but a, Stupid stuttering complaining ******* So do you mind If I wrap my arms around you, just so I can say That I am holding on to something that I won’t let go Because I have trouble letting go And yet My hands slipped because they were sweaty and I was nervous, And I dropped my courage and my thoughts. So give me Will Toledo’s voice And Rhiannon McGavin’s stage presence I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this Because I am nothing, But a chameleon And I try to stay invisible but in that attempt, I end up standing out And looking like a black sheep among white sheep in a herd Have you heard? With this new update, he can unsave all of your messages All your "I love yous" and all your "Hellos" and "Goodbyes" And you are just messaging nothing I am not allowed to have feelings, Because feelings are stupid, and it feels too stupid to mention, So do you mind if I whisper words into your ear? So I can say My secrets are trusted with the most trustworthy person I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this I am nothing but, A god Because every time I open my mouth I create, No, no, no, not the Garden of Eden But the garden of even And odd sentence structures that make phrases and paragraphs That are said so magnificently that I have the last laugh Unless you want the last laugh Because I’ll give you anything To love you To hold you To say simples punchlines that make you smile because seeing you with that unconfident frown made feel like I have to do something I, Care, And, Love, You.

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Apr 28, 2018

Apr 28, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC

runwithme

Chameleon

This poem is dedicated to 3rd grade, Politicians everywhere, The San Diego Padres, And everyone else who keeps ******* up my **** I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this I am Nothing but a, Stupid stuttering complaining ******* So do you mind If I wrap my arms around you, just so I can say That I am holding on to something that I won’t let go Because I have trouble letting go And yet My hands slipped because they were sweaty and I was nervous, And I dropped my courage and my thoughts. So give me Will Toledo’s voice And Rhiannon McGavin’s stage presence I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this Because I am nothing, But a chameleon And I try to stay invisible but in that attempt, I end up standing out And looking like a black sheep among white sheep in a herd Have you heard? With this new update, he can unsave all of your messages All your "I love yous" and all your "Hellos" and "Goodbyes" And you are just messaging nothing I am not allowed to have feelings, Because feelings are stupid, and it feels too stupid to mention, So do you mind if I whisper words into your ear? So I can say My secrets are trusted with the most trustworthy person I am not allowed to have feelings Feelings would complicate this I am nothing but, A god Because every time I open my mouth I create, No, no, no, not the Garden of Eden But the garden of even And odd sentence structures that make phrases and paragraphs That are said so magnificently that I have the last laugh Unless you want the last laugh Because I’ll give you anything To love you To hold you To say simples punchlines that make you smile because seeing you with that unconfident frown made feel like I have to do something I, Care, And, Love, You.

52

Ten years ago I knew an elusive man He used to call me Rhiannon I knew the song but I never knew why He said I'll figure it out when I'm older Nearly a dozen years between us Thousands of miles I remember he lived in the California sunshine I imagined he would start each morning greeting the sun His only company a dark coffee and lit cigarette Ten years later, I vaguely remember a man He called me Rhiannon I would hum the song for years, sometimes I forgot why I would sing and sing but I'm still in the dark now that I'm older

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Nov 4, 2013

Nov 4, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC

starrynocturne

Rhiannon.

Ten years ago I knew an elusive man He used to call me Rhiannon I knew the song but I never knew why He said I'll figure it out when I'm older Nearly a dozen years between us Thousands of miles I remember he lived in the California sunshine I imagined he would start each morning greeting the sun His only company a dark coffee and lit cigarette Ten years later, I vaguely remember a man He called me Rhiannon I would hum the song for years, sometimes I forgot why I would sing and sing but I'm still in the dark now that I'm older

13

Ode to the Pug A Sonnet by Rhiannon My caring pug, you inspire me to write. How I love the way you hug, laugh and play, Invading my mind day and through the night, Always dreaming about the holiday. Let me compare you to an unique moon? You are more friendly and more magical. Bleak sun heats the special peaches of June, And summertime has the creative classical. How do I love you? Let me count the ways. I love your intelligent heart and eyes. How your personality fills my days! My love for you is the daring disguise. Now I must away with a glaring heart, Remember my magical words whilst we're apart.

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Feb 11, 2019

Feb 11, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC

13rcarter

ode to the pug

Ode to the Pug A Sonnet by Rhiannon My caring pug, you inspire me to write. How I love the way you hug, laugh and play, Invading my mind day and through the night, Always dreaming about the holiday. Let me compare you to an unique moon? You are more friendly and more magical. Bleak sun heats the special peaches of June, And summertime has the creative classical. How do I love you? Let me count the ways. I love your intelligent heart and eyes. How your personality fills my days! My love for you is the daring disguise. Now I must away with a glaring heart, Remember my magical words whilst we're apart.

16

Ode to the Vampire by rhiannon My fierce vampire, you inspire me to write. I love the way you bite, frighten and scare, Invading my mind day and through the night, Always dreaming about the pale prayer. Let me compare you to a stark balloon? You are more magic, dangerous and dark. Blue sun heats the teary peaches of June, And summertime has the enchanted clark. How do I love you? Let me count the ways. I love your rough long claws, sharp fangs and smile. Thinking of your light sharp fangs fills my days. My love for you is the gentle hairstyle. Now I must away with a benchmark heart, Remember my black words whilst we're apart.

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Mar 28, 2019

Mar 28, 2019 at 10:04 AM UTC

13rcarter

ode to the vampire

Ode to the Vampire by rhiannon My fierce vampire, you inspire me to write. I love the way you bite, frighten and scare, Invading my mind day and through the night, Always dreaming about the pale prayer. Let me compare you to a stark balloon? You are more magic, dangerous and dark. Blue sun heats the teary peaches of June, And summertime has the enchanted clark. How do I love you? Let me count the ways. I love your rough long claws, sharp fangs and smile. Thinking of your light sharp fangs fills my days. My love for you is the gentle hairstyle. Now I must away with a benchmark heart, Remember my black words whilst we're apart.

16

Earlier today, I heard Stevie Nicks singing Rhiannon I was blown away by the lyrics And thought My God; I gotta share This! So I looked them up None of them really stood out I realized the poetry was not in the words But in the way she sang them (Insert something poignant.)

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Feb 6, 2018

Feb 6, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC

kdellefemine

Poetic

Earlier today, I heard Stevie Nicks singing Rhiannon I was blown away by the lyrics And thought My God; I gotta share This! So I looked them up None of them really stood out I realized the poetry was not in the words But in the way she sang them (Insert something poignant.)

10

The Brother Gone Domestic Noir by rhiannon One morning in a house in Scotland, Josh Wilson opens a gift from his brother, Matthew Snozcumber, and Josh knows their lives will never be the same again. Whilst trying to rebuild his life, Josh witnesses a crime that leads him to question a new relationship. He becomes obsessed with enigmatic stranger Toby Barlow. What is his connection to Matthew, and why has he turned up now? Josh's behaviour becomes increasingly erratic as she struggles to unravel the truth and the significance of a cursed rock, all whilst battling to cope with amnesia. Every day, Josh gets closer to the truth. And the closer he gets, the more shocking it seems.

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Mar 28, 2019

Mar 28, 2019 at 10:12 AM UTC

13rcarter

the brother gone

The Brother Gone Domestic Noir by rhiannon One morning in a house in Scotland, Josh Wilson opens a gift from his brother, Matthew Snozcumber, and Josh knows their lives will never be the same again. Whilst trying to rebuild his life, Josh witnesses a crime that leads him to question a new relationship. He becomes obsessed with enigmatic stranger Toby Barlow. What is his connection to Matthew, and why has he turned up now? Josh's behaviour becomes increasingly erratic as she struggles to unravel the truth and the significance of a cursed rock, all whilst battling to cope with amnesia. Every day, Josh gets closer to the truth. And the closer he gets, the more shocking it seems.

7

Writing By Rhiannon I get on with life as a student, I'm a sad kinda person. I like knitting on Sundays, I like writing poems in the week. I like to contemplate writing. But when I start to daydream, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I like to use words like 'wow,' I like to use words like 'super.' I like to use words about writing. But when I stop my talking, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I like to hang out with Chelsey, I like to kick back with Sophie, But when left alone, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I'm not too fond of swearing, I really hate shouting, But I just think back to reading, And I'm happy once again.

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Sep 14, 2018

Sep 14, 2018 at 8:36 AM UTC

13rcarter

writing

Writing By Rhiannon I get on with life as a student, I'm a sad kinda person. I like knitting on Sundays, I like writing poems in the week. I like to contemplate writing. But when I start to daydream, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I like to use words like 'wow,' I like to use words like 'super.' I like to use words about writing. But when I stop my talking, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I like to hang out with Chelsey, I like to kick back with Sophie, But when left alone, My mind turns straight to reading. Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes, I notice the way I think about reading with a smile, Curved lips I just can't disguise. But I think it's writing making my life worthwhile. Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more? Writing or... Reading? I'm not too fond of swearing, I really hate shouting, But I just think back to reading, And I'm happy once again.

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