"transpire" poems
vicious revenge feel its strain.
Engrained forever on a decaying brain.
For its a plague with no andetote. No cure.
Nothings sacred. nothings pure.
No honor here to gain but a grasp of guilt, sorrow and pain.
A trench deep seated with animosity.
Hearts too blinded by hatred to see.
Its walls engulfing like vines round a tree.
But no vegeance shall set you free.
In realising its errors and fate
The soul desperately searches to escape.
Weary, hollow, it longs to retire
But hatred enslaves as its walls grow higher
For this is one prison sentence that will never transpire..
If you fight fire with fire.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
You are not my children,
tender as you are.
You are not my lover,
though you cause my heart to yearn.
You are not my sun,
or my moon,
or my star.
I set you on this rock;
you will not make me burn.
You are simply sticks,
arranged upon the pyre.
You are clever tricks,
though you flaunt my clear desire.
You are not the match,
or the wick,
or the fire.
I set you on this rock;
To see what might transpire.
You will never be a pheasant's egg to be coddled.
You are only this: a calf led to the slaughter.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 2:13 AM UTC
How can you miss someone's voice you have never heard and how can you visualize someone'es eyes you have never seen?
These are questions that alter the reality of someone's being.
Even though I have never met you and have no knowledge of your existence, I know you are out there. someday I will find my King.
I know that your lips are softer than rose petals and the Melanin in your skin fills women with desire.
But as I lay in these silk sheets and relish in fantasies I know that nothing between You and another woman will ever transpire,
Because You're Mine.
The dimple within your right cheek and the mischief in your eyes are all significant marks that you are no else's but Mine.
The sway of your walk and the charm when you talk are characteristics held for a woman who goes by My Name.
Our connection is nothing short of beautiful and the intensity of our relations make any other love seem inhumane.
I know this, even though to everyone else you still cease to exist.
I know our hands will lock together like the missing pieces completing a puzzle.
Making me Your's, but more precisely making you Mine.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
#***All through the summer
Little brother trees
And
The gusty
Big sister breeze
Played in the sun
They had ample fun
The little boy trees, wore a dusty crust
And shower, they must
Lest their leaves, yellowed
Transpire to rustle in summer heat
A drizzle nor a sprinkle
Mother rain
Chose to shower
The mode she set to power
Drenched and dripping wet
The little boy trees with trembling leaves, sneezed
The cool
Big sister breeze
Lovingly caressed
And blow dried
The little brothers trees
Fresh and perfumed
The little boy trees
Stood tall in trousers brown
And
Lovely, minty green tees***#
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
The monotony of adolescence is a laughable oxymoron.
My mom keeps saying to me,
"Caitlin, you're in a state of flux. Just wait."
Little does she know
I'm waiting for anything
to ebb.
Flow.
Twinge.
Any lurch of impulse of life
in this constant static lullaby.
Maybe I'm just itching to slough off my skin of content
and breathe in a fresh new disposition.
Become intoxicated in the maybes,
and the possibly's.
Embracing the oh-wells
and the never-enough-times.
Eschewing the feeling of everything I've missed
by having it near.
Having him here.
Getting trapped in the crinkles of his smile
and the freckles on his shoulders
that navigate me to the spots I feel most comfy.
Losing regard for the world as I become transfixed
in us
and our patterns on his couch.
Tumble into elation.
Quirks transpire the me's and you's
into the us's and we's.
To think... I was so scared to hold his hand.
Not knowing at the time
how great his waffles would taste
after a night of holding him.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
there was the sun.
brighter than anyone could believe,
passionate with its fire.
and the moon.
a sentimental romantic,
with a wild shimmer.
the moon lusted the luminescent brilliance of the day,
the sun fell for the vivacious spark of night,
and soon the two fell deeply in love.
now the sun had a fate,
a generational inevitability,
of an almighty “solar eclipse.”
solicitous about the phase to come,
as the vibrant colors of blood red
occupied their minds
fret none, said the sun,
for i rise and set for you, my dear,
perhaps the “solar eclipse” may not transpire at all.
but it did.
and the moon did nothing but stand in the way,
as the sun relished in the luminescent glory.
and just like any crossing of paths,
the eclipse came to an end,
and they went their separate ways.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
I still wonder
About the past.
I'm sure most of us do.
Quite cliche of my like to say,
I still wonder
About the past.
Conflicted, knowing friends won't change.
Jaded by relationships,
As I watch them all fade.
Calmed by smoke, more than fire.
Hard to find inspiration,
Out of things that won't transpire.
Although the glass is half empty
(sometimes half full),
Why has no one questioned,
Who made a glass so dull?
Because glass cups never were,
Before man made it so.
Where did all that water come from?
Where will it all go?
Like memories that make up life
Paint lemons shades of bold.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
Dreary meadows... empty halls...
I soak myself in candle light...
I wash away my form of wax..
In your tears i find comfort...
Bathing in your mind.. makes me relax...
Ravenously devouring your memories....
I am the creeping dark around the corner...
A future distorted, a past discorded...
your present state in turmoil....
Tumbling further into depravity...
A shadowy fragment of what once was you...
Dripping, gaping maws. Elongated fangs laid bare...
Rend sinew and tissue....
Gnawing violently your rotting tongue....
Venom seeps out of every orifice...
As you transpire myself from you
and dress your misery in flesh and blood...
While your sight evaporates...
I roll my eyes out of sheer boredom
Your frail waxen form.. melting in the heat of my hands...
Dripping in dead puddles of discomfort...
Your sorrow festers like mould on corpses....
And on that faithful day you gave birth to me...
You gave me my name.....
When you look in the mirror you will always see...
You will whisper my name...
Melancholy..
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
THEY broke into my storyline:
confections served were not so slight
still i missed out on YOU at first,
that trace YOU gave of sheer remorse
put that now in you head,
sweet THING!
my guilty pleasure feels like savoring.
a palate to transpire any doubts -
a skill of tiger on the prowl
it's the plot of a mindless fling,
i care for YOU to be within
though such acting's bound with letters' dire ******
i see YOU TWO again to have my bliss
i read YOU out,
i spell YOU!
then write YOU down
i read YOU out,
i spell YOU,
then write YOU down
it's been a while i had my click
with all the fluff i cared to think
i thought this time WE may never part,
but YOU are in the line with change of heart
it's the plot of a mindless fling,
i care for YOU to be within
though such acting's bound with letters' dire ******
i see YOU TWO again to have my bliss
i reread YOU out,
i spell YOU!
then rewrite YOU down
i read YOU out,
i spell YOU,
then write YOU down
Nov 22, 2022
Nov 22, 2022 at 3:21 PM UTC
The lights all up around me
They dance and flicker
Swirling up and down each tree
As the music gets quicker
What a colorful holiday
Something new around each bend
We climb into Santa’s sleigh
And begin to ascend
The clouds fall below us
As we are launched into the sky
The turns we took were brusque
But the heavens never felt so nigh…
...
...
I cover you with a quilt
For the sleigh keeps climbing higher
Towards your hometown we tilt
I wonder, what will transpire?
There’s something big in the back
Is it full of coal?
Perhaps there’s something else in that sack
A doll, a plane, a little toy troll?
Perhaps we will find out
Your hometown draws near
Rudolf raises his red snout
Followed by the rest of the reindeer…
...
...
They shift their gaze
Towards a landing strip
People down there in a craze
We must look like a spaceship
They angle their flight
Right down the middle
It is quite the sight
And the thrill makes us giggle
What’s going on down below?
I ask Santa sitting up front
“I don’t really know”
He says as a reindeer grunts
“They must be waiting for you
Down there, to see what took place
For you came back with her,
That’s not exactly commonplace”
I look back at you, and you meet my gaze
Together we’ll get through
Of that I have no doubt
The sleigh is landing now
There is no backing out…
...
...
Santa pulls up on the reins
On the landing strip the sleigh glides
Only stepping out remains
As we do, the crowd divides
There in the middle
Surrounded by curious people
Stands a man with thumbs he twiddles
He looks more nervous than you or I
I grab your hand and look back again
This is it, we feel suddenly shy
Now’s not the time, so confidence we feign
We look forward and meet his eye
He looks at us and gives a sigh
“Dad?” you say
You look back at me, with display
Introductions are made
Feelings are conveyed
We no longer stand in a masquerade
Everything is out
The closet has swung open
We have nothing left to hide
You squeeze my hand
I coincide
As we look to your dad and wait
…
…
He looks at you with love
Then he looks at me squarely
Before he can say a word
Santa breaks in and shouts “let’s all be merry!”
The crowd breaks into laughter
As Santa sates the air with a magic
And joy fills everyone’s thoughts
Your father looks at us again
This time, with a smile, he simply nods
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
Come, Autumn, on September wings
Come, the quixotic aura this season brings
Welcome, the golden harvest, and its plentiful reap
Welcome, turning of the foliage, falling to paint
golden streets
Transpire, crisp air, with your sway in timber tops
Befall us, pumpkin skies, where the sun drops
Betide to me, the lull and composure from you,
calmest breeze
Make yourself known, won't you please?
Recieve gladly, the crackling of fire beneath a silver
moon
Embrace the little things, for they will go away
soon
Welcome, fall, the enigmatic emotion as the season
starts
Welcome fall, with open hands and blithe hearts
Come, Autumn, with the romantic feelings you stir
Come Autumn, I hope to be lost in the ambience
that is her
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
~
March 2023
HP Poet: Thomas W. Case
Age: 53
Country: USA
Question 1: We are very happy to have you participate, Thomas. So how long have you been writing poetry, and how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Thomas W. Case: “I've been writing poetry since I was 16, and I've been a member of hello poetry for 3 years.”
Question 2: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Thomas W. Case: “The things that inspire me to write are life: the good, the bad, the ugly. Emotion inspires me to write. Poems come to me in many different ways. Sometimes in pictures, sometimes a word will pop into my head and I will write around it. And sometimes a situation in my life will transpire and I will write to process it.”
Question 3: What does poetry mean to you?
Thomas W. Case: “Poetry is cathartic for me. It's a lifesaver, it gives me a unique perspective on the world, it helps me to make sense of life. Poetry is my highway through the madness.”
Question 4: Who are your favorite poets?
Thomas W. Case: “Charles Bukowski, Pablo Neruda, Dylan Thomas, and W.B. Yeats.”
Question 5: What other interests do you have?
Thomas W. Case: “Writing short stories, reading, and spending time with my kids.”
Mr. Timetable: “Thank you so much, Thomas! We really appreciate your willingness to be the first one to be spotlighted.”
Thomas W. Case: “Thank you, man. I look forward to seeing the post and how it turns out.”
And thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Thomas a little bit better.
– Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)
We will post Spotlight #2 in April!
~
Mar 14, 2023
Mar 14, 2023 at 7:50 PM UTC
Every day I got a new set of problems
Can't figure out just how to solve em
Each day I find new ways to dodge em
But they keep coming back
Full circle revolver
What's a dollar to a billionaire
Spend all there money on diamonds without a care
Yet none of them seem to be happy
Rolling in cash yet smiling so sadly
Here I am waiting from cent to cent
Trying to afford food gas and rent
But at the end of the day
I can rest easy
Satisfied
Indefinitely ok
Is it the same for you mr. Billionaire?
With your fancy car ladies parties
In the designer clothes you wear
But what I see
All around me
Is beauty in simplicity
Beauty in the struggle
The empty pocket pit
Living off that next pack of Ramon noodles
Pressing on
Never settling
Knowing that your day will come
Because happiness isn't about the things you acquire
It's about the love you spread
The good you transpire
the universe returns to you
Threefold to fulfill selfless desires
Sometimes in wealth
Sometimes in power
You lose yourself
Forget To stop and smell the flowers
But I'll hold my head high
Through the hard times
Wait for the good
Gaze at the stars
And feed my head
With all that's left
The beauty in everything
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
Everyone is dead, I think.
Be it morning or night, I don't sleep a wink.
In thoughts, I retire, I rebel, I transpire.
This spring holds none to miss,
This air, to me, holds no bliss.
I think of sanity now and then,
But overpowered, I run back to my den.
The sky embarks upon the fairest hue,
And I sit patiently for death to ensue.
How loyal I am to this greed —
To have my insanity freed.
May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 1:44 PM UTC
Shut it!
Stop before
Your mouth eats up your face
And you'll be no more!
The longer you dive
In depths you think you know
The more you drown
Into your loss! Oh no!
Lived your life in a field of feels
Instead of sweat you put on blush-on
On your cheek
You cut your hair of iv'ry crown
Into a helm of death resound
Imposter smile, you twist your hips
Marred the very throne where Love exists
You pound your chest but terrified
A bitter fate, a broken battle cry
Will more of dread would soon transpire
Come shut your mouth til sickness dies!
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
How uncanny!
Your stoic:
so suave,
so dapper.
How uncanny!
Your voice:
so sweet,
such a trapper.
How uncanny!
Your hair:
so fragrant,
such a teaser.
How uncanny!
Your eyes:
so magnified,
such an abrupter.
How uncanny!
Your lips:
like a bubblegum,
filled with eager.
How uncanny!
Your hands:
on mine,
no answer.
How uncanny!
Your silence:
in your mind,
like cancer.
How uncanny!
Your thoughts:
thorough rejection,
my soul's attacker.
How uncanny!
Your breaths:
fumes of disdain,
silent killer.
How uncanny!
Your scent:
faint whiff of trouble,
a heart-breaker.
How uncanny!
Your dreams:
misaligned with mine,
an eerie blockbuster.
How uncanny!
Your soul:
my bulls-eye,
a sharpshooter.
How uncanny!
That night:
I wish,
lasted forever.
How uncanny...
That night...
you wish...
hadn't transpire.
-my demise-
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
Companionship;
that's how I would paint it.
You are my companion.
A glowing bow of my heart has bonded to yours
so that when I muse over you
the breathing patterns
of a gentle creature
rising and falling in my chest cavity
create that warm, taxing heat
of a muscle striving a little more arduously
for a dedicated cause.
Thats how it feels
and it feels good.
Sometimes, erratically,
I notice my little creature breathing more keenly
and I wonder,
in those moments,
if it's not your own creature
pondering mine.
That maybe there are small orbs of brilliant light moseying down your spinal cord to caress the soul of that creature,
to tell it our stories
share with it our memories,
and perhaps those brilliant orbs find my little creature too.
Travelling through time and space to chance upon me,
to tell me that you're thinking of me.
This must transpire because of our companionship,
what else could ever justify such majestic happenings in this imperceptible world.
So if it is by virtue of our companionship and because you are my companion
then I am perfectly,
divinely
in affinity with that.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
"Hey, is that your boyfriend?"
"No."
"Who are you texting, I bet it's your boyfriend."
"No."
"So, do you have a boyfriend?"
"No"
"Hey, take this guy's number. He's really hot, you should totally text him."
"NO"
"No"
"No"
"No" I don't have boyfriend. Beacause I have a girlfriend. I love a girl, and yet I change all the she's to he's so no one will ever see the real me. I change my lock screen and delete my texts, so no one can see the love I profess for the girl that I love it's time I confess.....but I can't.
I can't tell anyone the way I feel, i should tell everyone because my lies they steal,
All of our happiness and the love we provide, all because I keep my love for you inside.
Fact: To some people I only need to find the right man.
Fact: No man, could ever love me the way that you can.
I'm locked in this world, feeling like a liar, while people surround me I watch their actions transpire.
You know it's funny, in my own family, it's okay for a girl to be a ***** because it's only the gays we really deplore.
I've loved one woman all my life, but compared to my sister who's reached double digets, I'm the one who'll always be blamed by the bigots.
Maybe one day, it'll will be different.
And our lives will feel anew.
For now, to all the girls who love girls,
It's okay to be you.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
Lonely little elven girl, sitting in her yew tree seat,
Around fair lips your words do curl, in a way that's pretty and neat.
You dance and prance and shine so bright.
In beautiful circles you do twirl, you dance to your own heartbeat,
Silently you jump and whirl, the swift ease of your bare-feet.
You are the most brilliant star at night.
Traveling little mermaid, on your way to find your love,
Your heart has been remade, as you gaze at the stars above.
Swim as far as you can with daylight.
On your shoulders your hair does cascade, long and of
The softest strands it is made, more gentle than a dove.
Lay your head to rest in the moonlight.
Peaceful fair young princess, your prince will surely wait,
On your heart is a deepness, a light and heavy weight.
Close your eyes but not your sight.
The morning air holds crispness, as you silently sneak out the gate,
Run because you feel the nearness, leap in the arms of your soul-mate.
Hold your love and hold him tight.
Quite silent dreaming one, don't lose the things you admire,
Always let the imagination run, and with your heart conspire.
Let your dreams take over tonight.
Speak aloud any question, and let the answers transpire,
Inner depths have been awoken, you darling precious sapphire.
Fall in love under starlight.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
There is, one supposes, a certain nobility
In simply carrying on with the whole **** thing,
Though that assumes some epiphany,
Some clawing toward grace, or at least common decency.
He had, in some once upon a time,
Cast his lot with a better class of people, so to speak;
It had not ended well, though,
In line with how such things are resolved,
His fall not a spectacular, tempestuous thing,
But a gradual, veiled affair, not a fiery spectacle
With metaphorical medals cut away, epaulets stripped,
But a shaded silence, a shrouded yet palpable shunning.
And so he is here, in this fading little city
Perched forlornly on the banks of a nondescript little river,
Having taken an apartment above a pair of offices
(One occupied by a seemingly ancient and disinterested lawyer,
The other by an ostensible private investigator)
Which is sufficiently large and reasonably warm
Come the seemingly perpetual winter.
He lives, if not in such a manner
As he was once accustomed to, comfortably enough:
He has his practice, and an adjunct position
At the little cow college down the road in Alfred,
And there are the occasional women,
Sad divorcees marooned in this hill country,
Dewy-eyed undergraduates unable to discern
Suit coats that are a bit shabby and somewhat passe
(There is a haberdasher in Buffalo whose garments
Are in the neighborhood of up-to-snuff,
And he could certainly manage a trip
Down to New York for better tailoring,
Though he would be traveling in places and circles
Where he is not remembered fondly.)
Stepping outside, he encounter snowflakes,
Light and unprepossessing,
But he studies the sky anxiously, apprehensively
(One learns that he must pay Nature its due fealty in these climes,
And give into the primal, the instinctual)
For he knows what can transpire
When the wind blows off the big lake out west just so,
Turning innocuous flurries into a malevolent blankness,
Making the landscape inscrutable, alien, utterly terrifying.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
You were once the sun
my world revolved around
but you left me shunned
and my orbit spiraled down
I suppose things wont transpire
the way I wish they had
and what I most desire
has slipped beyond my hands
So I will love you from afar
the way I always have
Even a universe apart
I just hope you know that
Animosity has faded
although disappointment still remains
I would rather feel this way
than replace it all with hate
All I put at stake
surpassed this mortal coil
but I'll leave it up to fate
to determine what is foiled
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
Anger becomes me,
Rage engages my fits .
Such unholy acts transpire through me.
Blood vesicles are visible on my illuminant skin.
Breath becomes heavy,
breath grows slow.
Tears puff in my eyes.
Lost, is my mind,
Solace is solitary.
To me it's all the same,
Solace to anger
and,
anger to pain.
Rage grows old,
Smiles become unholy,
Tears are solitary.
Anger,
Anger,
Anger.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
*Words inspire, Words transpire
They are the writer’s creation
a peak of the writer’s soul
A positive release
Or
A negative outcome
Dull words into creative thinking
Sparkles of wellness
Pure and Raw emotions collide
Reflections of what we imagine
Beginners and new beginning
Flows in a dynamic determination
Empowering its readers
Curious to meaningful insight
Playful art of thoughts
For me
For you
For everyone
To
Enjoy*
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
A mother's love
A father's warmth
A sister's support
3 things I wish to acquire
But never require
Yet wanting to transpire
A hug
A simple "congratulations"
A simple "I'm proud of you"
3 things a child only wishes to be received
Yet so far to be achieved.
An "I love you my child"
Is all I ask...
But they were never up to task...
May 31, 2021
May 31, 2021 at 7:00 PM UTC