Ilion Gray:
http://hellopoetry.com/-ilion-gray/
my personal call sign, Kronos/Cronus
Obviously the Titan among the writers of the Hello Poetry,
He has probably the highest viewership, and most commented amongst the poets.
It becomes very evident after reading his work why he is the Titan of poets,
And reading his poem is like historical masters revisited among mortals.

Harlon Rivers:
http://hellopoetry.com/-harlon-rivers/
my personal call sign, Poseidon
Poseidon was very fitting with Harlon River,
due to the symbolic nature of the water in their names.
I have only read few of this gentleman's work,
But I can assure you his work is very much a gift to the audience,
And like Poseidon that gift is fire to humanity.

K Balachandran:
http://hellopoetry.com/-k-balachandran/
my personal call sign, Zues
After thinking and pondering,
K Balachandran is the Zues of hello poetry.
His work is always top notch,
And it has so much layer of meaning in his ink.
I admire his compassion in his work,
And his generous response.

Nat Lipstadt:
http://hellopoetry.com/-nat-lipstadt/
my personal call sign, Apollo
Nat is this exciting charismatic youthful writer like Apollo,
And his vigor is unmatched with his writing.  
His writing is passionate,
And has such strength.
It is so hard not to notice his work,
But when you do read his work,
You will know why I had him as Apollo of Hello Poetry.

Soul in Torment:
http://hellopoetry.com/-soul-in-torment/
my personal call sign, Hermes
His work is like a trickery,
When you think you got it,
You see another layer in his work.
To read his 10w poem,
As simple as it may seem,
You will do double take to see more meaning  in 10w.

Timothy:
http://hellopoetry.com/-timothy/
my personal call sign, Dionysus
Probably the most festive,
and warm poems you will ever read.
Timothy not only write awesome poems,
But also gives lot of positive feed back to many.
More I thought about Timothy's work,
It just made sense to have him as Dionysus.

KMae:
http://hellopoetry.com/-kmae/
my personal call sign, Gaia
Another Titan among the Hello Poetry,
And like Gaia, KMae is like the Mother Earth of poets.
Her wisdom and knowledge is vast,
And her writings are warm and very expressive.

Shaqila:
http://hellopoetry.com/-shaqila/
my personal call sign, Athena
Her 10w is so amazing,
I became Dumbfounded by her work,
Because it's so thought provoking.
She has vast repertoire of her style,
and it is unmatched by many I have read.
I can only wonder now a days how she is doing,
Since she has been Mia for awhile now.

Olivia Kent:
http://hellopoetry.com/-olivia-kent/
my personal call sign, Hestia
Very down to earth,
And calm resting of poets.
If you want a ink with purity,
Check her work out!

Sally A Bryan:
http://hellopoetry.com/-sally-a-bayan/
my personal call sign, Hera
Her work has so much strength,
And love with thoughtfulness,
It felt only right to align her with Hera.
Highly recommend to those who seek love and warmth,
And very hospitable response as well.

CA Guilfoyle :
http://hellopoetry.com/-ca-guilfoyle/
my personal call sign, Artemis
Just like Artemis,
And her work is untamed beauty.
Graceful and amazing to read,
Her work is innocent,
But very strong.
Try to catch her work,
But beware, her newer inks are harder to come.

Jasmine:
http://hellopoetry.com/-jasmine-9/
my personal call sign, Aphrodite
Her work is elegant,
And quite beautiful.
Has a perfect feminine quality about her writing,
And gives lovely expression that empowers love!

Noose:
http://hellopoetry.com/-the-noose/
my personal call sign, Hade
Always great with darkness,
And convey disparity like no other,
Hade perfectly convey Noose's work.
If you ever want to read decay at it fullest glory,
Noose has this covered for you.

Atul 'Drona' Kaushal
http://hellopoetry.com/-atul-drona-kaushal-1/
My personal call sign, Cupid
Probably one with most profound love poetry I've read
And his work is dedicated love poems.
His work are marvel to gaze upon,
And strong display of Eros.
Highly recommend for those who like to read love poems,
If not, check his best poem of all "Angel?"

Pradip Chattopadhyay
http://hellopoetry.com/-pradip-chattopadhyay/
My personal call sign, Helios
In my eyes poet Pradip seem to be the sun of the poets,
Always filled with bright energy.
Very mystical in this poet's ink of ray.
If you want a poem that will brighten your day,
I recommend Pradip's poems!

Baucis and Philemon,
Elderly souls, never empty of
Love,
Opened their doors for two strangers,
Whom
Unbeknownst to them, originated from
Above.
Zues and Hermes, cloaked in the robes of the
Poor,
Were turned away from every household,
Until they rapped on Baucis and Philemon's
Door.
"Come in, come in, shed your cloaks, and warm your hands,
Baucis,
Go!
Use our last loaves, grab the roast, the ham!"

Never mind their
Poverty

Never mind their
Nearly empty
Pantry and Cupboards

Baucis and Philemon possessed the rarest trait,
One the God's most
Coveted.
And while the two strangers ate their foods, and consumed their
Wine,
Baucis noted their cups never lowered beneathe the
Brim Line.

"God's... Divine!"
Cried the two elderly
Lovers.
"Follow us up the hill, Baucis, Philemon,
Do not look back as you climb,
Only to each other."

The two followed the Gods, still cloaked in the garb of strangers,
Never looking back at their village
Below.
Until, reaching the top, and turning back, their eyes didn't fall back upon their
Home.

Zues had called forth a flood, sent to destroy the once ungrateful
Village,
But where Baucis and Philemons cottage once lay,
A beautiful temple had risen from the filthy
Sullage.

Their wish to take care of the temple was swiftly
Granted,
As was their second wish, one that was almost
Demanded.


"I must die, as soon as my love does, I can't ever be without her."


The rest of their lives were spent glorifying the Gods for their kindness and love,
And when the time came for them to take their last
Breath,
Squeezed hands and warm souls crossed the River Styx,
And their broken and withered bodies were
Left.

The wrinkles on their
Skin,
Were made brown, and beautiful
Again
As their flesh turned to bark, and their hair to
Leaves,
The two elderly lovers, became intertwining
Trees.

HERCULES SON OF ZUES
WHO COULD THROW A PEBBLE AND **** A MOOSE
FROM A IMMORTAL TO A SINFUL  MAN
FROM RIDING CHARIOTS IN THE SKY, TO DRIVING A VAN

HE WAS BRAVE AND STRONG
AND LIVED VERY LONG
HE FOUGHT THE NINE HEADED SNAKE NAMED HYDRA
AND MARRIED A GIRL NAMED DEIANIRA

THAT WAS THE START OF LOVE THAT COULD NOT PART
BECAUSE IT CAME FROM THERE HEART

.          IF I WERE A POET

                             The
                     First stanza
                     would be a      
       magnatic attic captivating
            Elegant architects of
                     iridescence  
                        Vividly
       propelling pupils to edges
                 Of the schleras        
        Compelling pens to pages
                    of new eras
    

            IF I WERE A POET
                                
                         ­              The
                              Second
                 Stanza would
             Mirror Zues's
          spear slicing through
        tears drowning in clouds
         striking fields of pens
                        Egniting the
                    capsules of
                 Variegated
               Lands


            IF I WERE A POET

                            The
                     Last stanza
             would sail summers
           tame winters bathe in  
         springs of autumn praise  
           deeds of the monarchs
           reigning over raining
           rainbows nurturing the
         clouds planting wings on
       the ground giving free will
          to plants to seed the sky  
           with warmth and love
                of nature's heart.

They stuff cotton down your mouth
Because it’s the only thing that doesn't choke you
When they try to muffle your sounds out
But you scream with your eyes better than you
Ever did with words

It’s a sharp sound that hurts to look at
And you knew that contradictions were the best arguments
you said  “Arguments are the best way to show someone
How much you love them because
you are giving them your words
And that is the best thing to give.”  disagreement said “Or you could give em’
Some of your M&M;’s.”

They hung mosaics of your destruction on the walls and called it “Art”
So you punched a hole through your bathroom mirror and called it “Creation”
Spent the fourth day naming your shards “Zues” “Cordelia”. Saved the sharpest one
And called it “Helen”, said “Pain only ever hurts when its beautiful.” Disagreement said
“You’re a ****** up sadomasochistic *****”

On the fifth day you dreamt your father held you
Except it wasn't your father it was a ******* who found you
frozen to a street light
On the sixth day you called me and said: “I have a name for creation;
It’s destruction.”
On the seventh day they found you praying to the  images on a TV screen
Holding onto a mathematical calculation in your hand
Calling it the formula to happiness
The numbers spelled out




D   R  U  G  S

The moon and night Sky
Are the greatest couple
I ask the moon
Why it cheats
Peaking in the daylight
At times
Does dawn
Not bring enough
Satisfaction?

Im sad this fraction
Of earth
Works so hard
To outshine the sun
Bright
Moon
You have something
So much more
Beautiful
The night falls
At your feet
Treat her
Like the queen
She is
More diamonds
Than any chain
Or ring
Will ever see
Staring at her stars
Are something
Us city dwellers
No longer enjoy
We stole
Zues’s powers
To electrify
This city life
Now the street lights
Blink
As we speed
Like lightning
Pass the things
We need
Don’t be like us
Please
Appreciate
The precious
Nature of the night
And remain
In the darkness
We have
Judjged carelessly
As if it was wrong
Though
The birds sing
And
The wolves cry
They sing
A song
Sung from the soul
Falsetto
Truth echoes
In the cold air
The moon and the night sky
Please
Stay together
Wether the weather
Is sunny days
Or a constant storm
You’re relationship
Is not the norm
Teach us how to love
Through hardships
And shine off the waters
Dancing in the essence
Which brings life...

From across the waters of sky and sea, a quest for fire remains.
Contained by borders Zues & Posiedon laugh at this homonculus
What are signs set by stars
division and duality
Smoke drifts from mouth and fingertips as once again the beast howls at the juxtaposing light.
Why then do these walls whisper
Tenderly,
"Burn me down,"
"You've suffered us enough,"
"Nothing worth doing was ever easy,"
"Divinity is given to those willing to drown."
Frown turns to grit turns to Grin turns to me and I give my word of agreement.
"Please."

You are the dog starved of knowledge and my words lash at you like a whip on a slave. Our minds are on different planes so why do you even try? Zues himself could not stop me as I am more powerful than time. I shower you with pity as your breeze fights my gale and your words will break like that of a fickle twig. My roots are deep; yours scrape the surface.

I seldomly think if I looked like the Zeus statue sitting in  imperial chair. All men and woman desiring me giving one godhead there for being a god is loved by all?
warming hands in crouch like hands under pits. loved by all..,... though if Ayawas is child men but missing zeus body one must be lesser grade only bestowing supreme head... Though still loved by all if one has both he must be a god. for a god is worshipped
Some have only ayawas with out zues beauty therefore, guardian
A god but lesser grade?. Both lives are lived godly though zuesless has to sink to thines abyss more more often. Where so highest is pampered. For he is worshipped.
Look there he is
I could look at him all day

If I could find the Proverbs
arranging them accordingly
Inside these lucid creases
I would die happy, just to
concieve metrical composition

... for all time

I'd scribble heartbreaks and
rescue missions of my soul
to clarify empathy of baptism
that my love is more than love

If I had a key with a heart
bleeding at the crown
I would unlock the poison
So much I allowed myself
in suffering
I am languishing
rib cages, shutting in
all my reasoning to breathe...

where to be found another day

I'd scribe in scrolls
of my 15 yrs of sorrows
hoping your eyes can see
I am just as damaged as
a vehicle wreck
Yet a mother of 1
who was lost
on a sad occasion

3 yrs ago when I first
decided to bare my deepest
and thickest out pour
of my poetry,
I wrote about you

Mathias Ti'avasu'e

..I became the whipping
motherless girl beneath Zues..

Conveyed the impression
at first glance
Writing my storms delicately
as when mommy first held you
helped me describe my
inner workings
so that you might understand

… exactly the mother I
could have been

I love you in all of your grace, your
purity, and your precious life.
And when that time comes that
I may write of you
I could find the words I need
to create heavenly for you
and to conquer

... and if this makes perfect poetry,
then why does it still hurt so bad?

© S.T. Rebel of Eden

i'd be dead long ago
fossilized in memory
of my mother
maybe of another,
like a crisp cubicle
amber snapshot
lost
and a sunken rusted corpse
rotting,
if I'd given
unconditional control
to the alabaster breaking curiosity
streaming my veins.

worm food too soon
but brave sturdy bones
reluctantly deteriorating  
with such luster wished to hold on
like Venusian locks
breaking down unwillingly
into their amino acid state,
informal fertilizer for woodland's mirth.

so i am here
instead
away from the earth
near a foreign border
a flight
line unlinear
where my heart lept off
for regions uncharted,
not just to Rome or
was it Greece
clogging this train of thought,


but i can remember all of this
do not think i won't

i will not deny what i heard my left ventrical plotting
on raiding the pulpit
of life
a ceremonial teaching from leaves
to live with the oxygen
and it's pulp
and the recommendation to drink it together
together
for optimal optical evolution.

my resolution is to daily
gaze into my orange juice
the sun
that lick of sour
sweet release in time
its nothing to an hour
but an infinity in a day
of trials
and try agains
and oh wait
we went the wrong way
and realising but wait
the plum tree is fertile
feeding us plenty fruits,
endless fruit,
okay.

there cannot be only one
staged divine
except when seasons cut short the seasoning
of harvest,


unless you mean us,
then time survives
just to give us another line
to muster somemore condaments
but not compliments
for our dining
to spice up our ripe oozing confection,
our confessions,
our rhythmic happiness.

another play
I am attending today
this stages higher
this stage is indigo
with orchestras,
no heart string harps will be hurt
in the making of our film
when i pluck yours softly
from the black stuccoed darkness
no lead roles
or precious rings of metal
or unholy hymns
of god knows what descendence
will dictate the future
or the past
what lineage?

arent we the same?
so it seems

that all that this is
is truly a metaphor
for the greatest
of all
most spontaneous
of my glances
at death
and the death of my ego
in the west and

here today

the graduation of our children
hearts who may have already left
but found each other
somewhere along the way

and somewhere along the way
we will get them back
in the amount of time it takes me
to trace your spine
I'll trace the universe
to see souls
gaining there wishes
like eyes reincarnating
into others heads
and there we be no pain
just a safe shot
no radical injections
or vaccinations
to save us
from this love

that while glaring at the sun
and whining for a return date
or address
or something with
a conscious
in sleep lip shivering,
the warm grasp of my resting heart rate
will place your arms at ease.

so rest now,
easy baby
my sweet Zues,
and when i wake you
at an ungodly hour
let us fervently light the sky
eternally, yes, eternally
after a goodnight's rest
because someday that rest will,
well,
it will be the only hour
stuck on midnight
our only thing to live on
and our eyelids will have died long ago.

Hey dearest Girl friend, you're more than meets the eye.
There's more to you than the world see and only you can feel
You are more than the current moment, may be  stuck, but not for too long

You're fierce and engaging
A lioness in her own den, you are predictive and predetermined
A conquer, you have fought so many battles, Zues would be jealous

Going from house to house, you have served!
Moving from office to office, you have worked!
From one business to the other, you have thrived!
From street to street,  you have hawked!

You move mountains with determination
Your mere presence sets them on fire
You are a woman first,
A sister
Sometimes you're a wife but above all,
You are a mother.

You are the best work of art God created to multitask
A Russian-roulette any man would **** to be victorious for.

You are a reason for inspiring inclusion.
Happy International Women's Day Queen!

Bellah

there so many times and other dimension,
that we don't understand,
--- some as far as beyond,
while others as deep as the darkness goes,
and the end where we call the sun.

i always think the world is wide,
and the space is darkened built with mystery,
between Zues and Hades,
they create the reality and  fiction,
one who demand security of the higher hierarchy,
while others stands to the freedom of man ,

we were born to a natural voice,
to voice all that defeated their purpose,
and leaders that  pawn us for their betrayal,
words are born to make that person realize,
that life cant be control through their manipulation,

let this be the bearer of your words,
don't ever thing life is bringing you down,
and so should be the law,
while others demand the change,
as if the  their world had been damaged.

open your eyes ,
to the problem today,
is still exist by human  errors,
and its excess bickering.

Medusa

she open her heart wide to the vast illusion called life
in a variation of a dream she will scream
the twilight sun has tainted her inner vision,
hands, face & lips...

A sought after excursion of her heartfelt memory of her past,
Alone she thinks of the quaint memories to long ago,
shelter lies dormant amidst its beckoning plow;
She dances in a ring of fire yet

throws off its challenge with a shrug
her powers are from Zues of long ago,
making a premonition of fortune telling...
She comes from a kingdom near the sea

A glance of kings & queens and trolls in the meager existence
Empties her ideals in a shard of glass,
Dragons lurks around her heavenly abode
a flame of passion in a sincere covet

eyes, lips & hands,
She looks at life through the lens of death
her salvation is a longing quest of self discovery
as she approaches her own heaven's door

I hate money
I hate how paper and metal
Can get people so worked up
How it is now a necessity in today's society
It can tear people apart
It can **** people
It can ruin a family
I've seen it all
It can get you anything in the world
But as I sit listening to a quarrel about cash
I wish it never exsisted
I wish this greed wasn't here
So Pandora
Close the box
Zues
Take back your gift
Because I can't listen to this anymore
I know they don't want to believe it
But when it comes down to it
Something as delicate as money
With tear this family apart.

I want you to know things

I never had the strength

to tell you.  I am reminded of 

Zues, of the wisdom of 

Socrates, the guts of 

Anthony.


No, I have the soul of 

a chorister.  Back and forth,

strophe and antistrophe.

I wear the mask made

by decisions and revisions

that a minute

would reverse.


I repeat  to

myself the lines from

Eliot.  They give me 

fortitude to say the

unsayable.  You are

more wonderful than

a day at the warm,

sunred beach.


You tell me how you feel

and I dare to disbelieve

you.  I am upended

by the impossibility.

My throat is a naked 

slash.  My mind is

a tan tunnel.

I implode


at the possibility that

you are truly speaking.

That you measure me

by your kindness.


I will go first before

you realize that I am

the way the world ends.


I am a whimper in the room.

To you belongs my

hollow flesh.


I tear myself in half.

I begin the way up.

Charon sends me

to you whom the 

gods have released.



Caroline Shank

Oh Hermes with your caduceus head
Tell me, where you go with the dead?
Aren't you the brazen of Olympus fame?
And the psychopomp is your name?
Where did your winged sandals go?
I bet your turms with mercury flow
To Colossus of Rhodes or other land
But all are wreck in history's hand
And all Zues gods are out of bone
An art engraved only on stone
Brother of brother destroyed another
Even in stories failed standing together
Ancient mysteries truly remind us
What we are leaving behind us
So many knowledge for the eyes
Better than a golden rolling dice
Myths remain to be told again
Beholding life's solemn main

∴ Lyna Salman