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I eat the grain and rest till noon
For my will leaves me a bit too soon
At night I rejoice over a sight
Morally betrayed,with blood tumbling down left and right
Again I find my spirits have arose
My body ripens awaiting death like a chore
There is no love all left is shame
So I find myself unforgivable and unaimed
wounds take time to heal
scars remain proving they're real
the pain you still feel
O’ if the rose were given leave to sigh,
Or if the ocean wept for beauty’s sake,
Such tears would flood the ramparts of the sky,
And bid the sleeping stars in awe awake.
Yet thou, unknowing, passest through the dawn,
A muse unbound, in mortal semblance drawn.

So let the heavens bend to kiss thy tread,
And night adorn thee with her silver thread;
For in thy gaze, this fleeting world doth see
A glimpse of what the soul was born to be.
And I, a poet lost in mortal guise,
Have glimpsed the infinite through earthly eyes.

Though time may fade the bloom from beauty’s cheek,
Its echo in thy light shall ever speak.
Through Earthly Eyes 27/05/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
O’ dewy rose, scattered on the silken floor,
Art thou a pledge of love, or parting’s lore?
In thee resides both flame and celestial light,
Thy fall alters the soul’s eternal plight.

Each bloom by the Hand of Destiny unfurled,
Carries the rapture and the ruin of the world.
The Descent of Love 07/06/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
Driven by red
riding hood,
wheels of eternity run
hot and cold
along the tracks
in her arm.

Around the bend
there are jigsaw
pieces of a puzzle,
scattered as destinations
once towns and villages,
now fodder for
the migrant beginner.

According to fable,
there's a wolf at the door,
home is no longer
a worthwhile rendezvous,
but a trap of origin.

Misery is a train ride,
a stray fantasy,
lingering in the wilderness
of her fractured mind.

She sells her gold bracelets,
for she needs
the dark coal,
she seeks
its deep freeze.

She can then
be many things
along the journey,
just never
a connection,
never a permanent signal.
~
June 2025
HP Poet: Agnes de Lods
Age: 47
Country: Poland


Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Agnes. Please tell us about your background?

Agnes de Lods: "My name is Agnes (Agnieszka), and I come from Poland. I grew up in the countryside, in a family rooted in rural and small-town traditions. My mother is a very intuitive person, and my father was always standing in the last row, quietly helping others, especially people with disabilities.

My parents gave me two ways of perception: seeing with the heart and with the mind. They didn’t have higher education, but our home was full of music, books, radio talks, and documentaries that showed the world in many dimensions. They helped me see that reality is full of tension and harmony, depending on what we pay attention to.

They gave me space to speak in my own voice. Growing up close to nature, I spent time observing, listening to the rhythm of the seasons. I learned humility, compassion, and what it means to face hard work and failure."



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

Agnes de Lods: "In Polish, I’ve been writing for four years. In English, two or three. But in a way, I had been preparing for it all my life by writing, reading, and observing the world around me.

I started sharing my reflections on Hello Poetry in December, just a few months ago. For the first time, I felt ready to express everything I had kept inside for years."



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

Agnes de Lods: "People. I love people. Every single person has a story. Sometimes strangers stop me in the street and start talking. I guess they want to be heard, and I love to listen.

Nature inspires me. And my dreams, too. Some of them come true, others do not. Still waiting for those lottery numbers to show up in a dream.

Books are also a huge source, just like music and art in all their forms. I am inspired by Karolina Halatek and Hania Rani, Marc Witmann, Umo Vide, Dror Elimelech, and Patricia Suarez (Colombian poet and painter), and many others."



Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Agnes de Lods: "Poetry is exceptional on every level. Metaphors express the unspeakable and have real power. They change the frequency of thought.

Poetry heals, invites contemplation, and opens doors to the many layers of human nature.

To me, poetry is sound, color, scent, even taste."



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Agnes de Lods: "Sylvia Plath, Alejandra Pizarnik, Wisława Szymborska, Adam Zagajewski, Czesław Miłosz, Jorge Luis Borges, Pablo Neruda, Federico García Lorca, and many more.

I also read poems on Hello Poetry, and I am so glad to see many truly talented writers here. It means this world still has a chance."



Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Agnes de Lods: "I am fascinated by psychology and archetypes. I read Jung with deep interest.

I love sci-fi, deep conversations, walks in the forest, and learning new languages. But more than anything, I care about human connection and understanding.

I like to dance and play the piano, though I have not had much time for that lately. And I love connecting the dots."



Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Agnes, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Agnes de Lods: "Thank you so much for letting me share my story. I am so glad to be part of this community of sensitive souls. I feel good here."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Agnes a little bit better. We certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #29 in July!

~
If you saw me

unvarnished,

unscripted
would you stay?

You'd know the cost
of loving someone
who's learned to disappear
before she's left.

You might step back.

or worse,

what if you stay?

and see me crumble

in your kindness

I don't know
if I could survive

being loved like that.
ABANDONNED GARDEN

There is a clatter of brightness
trembling trough the branches,
as pillars of light fill empty spaces
with fragrance. Rose bushes stand
deep in grass , cobwebs breathe
between in olive trees where
memory lingers in a feathered
breath of bird.

The earth is fragrant
with past seasons and what
was there before . Unknown
is everywhere but there is
no pace outside today.

The sun behind white clouds
smiles on blooming weeds
in their unhurried  spaces.
They let the wind of world
fly through not concerned
about arriving.

Uncertain as a poem,
the garden’s voice,
sometimes a sweet
twitter, sometimes
a whispered  echo,
each word spoken
spinning its own
meaning through
earth and silence.
Love Weaves into a knights tale
To find his love
He must find himself
The universe will test at every turn
In cracks where the darkest shadows dwell
To strengthen his spirit
To sharpen his steel
Yet his shining armour
Does not hide
His burning heart
That flames inside
For true love echos
Compels him on
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