THE WALL OF POETRY - Hello Poetry

Mar 2015

K Balachandran

All he gathered as poetry, all through his life

A poet in the east, he lived the life of a king,

he was famed to have been gurgling his throat

with nothing but vintage quality sparkling wine,

when he finally put his prolific pen down

all his riches found was poetry, one full page long,

all that met the eyes earlier were merely fluff and puff,

never did he bare his heart, anywhere other than in poems

things of beauty, he gathered from life were invaluable, rare

all of it had filled just one full page, nothing more!

#poetic #essence #brevity #distilled-poetry

Mar 2015

ARI

Traveler of a Different Kind

I have wandered countless miles through her running mind;
Ever changing landscape I've been lost in many times.

I have felt the scars so deep sleeping on her body;
A different kind of sleeping beauty I hope never wakes.
I have had her dreams wrapped around me;
A long flowing skirt dancing with my movements.

I have touched the burning flesh of monsters in her mind;
Leaving gaping wounds in every corner they can reach.
I have walked through memories so perfect;
Blue skies, warming sun, and flowers rising at my feet.

I have been burned by her fears so great;
Screams thrashing about in my throbbing head.
I have loved her smile so bright warming my hopeful heart;
Laughter so light and kind like none I've ever heard before.

I have seen the darkest corners of her raging mind;
Silent battles wreaking havoc on her weary soul.
I have held her brightest thoughts gently in my hands;
Precious gems so raw and pure waiting to be shined.

I have been forced to watch her die a thousands times;
Her eyes a cage she cant escape; I have yet to find the key.

-ARI

#love #peace #fear #depression #life #girl #hope #dark #help #journey

Mar 2015

martin

sack

a sack rich in memories
slung on my back
like a part of me now

stopping to rest I open it up
regress, absorb, re-interpret

a pebble, a poem, a hurtful remark
danger and luck
friends made and lost
summits achieved
decisions carved as in stone
out of date currency
I cannot burn

Mar 2015

Meenu Syriac

A Woman of No Fears

She stood in the middle of the courtyard
Her arms outstretched, embracing life,
What little she knew of it.
In the rain, she let her bonds fall to the ground,
This sense of freedom, if only for a moment,
She wanted it to be her own.
That brief time, between fearing and dreaming,
She let herself loose.
As the rain washed the blood and the mud,
Her soul needed the cleansing, she thought.
For the first time in years, she chose not to look for scars,
She forgot the pain.
In this big house, she was a prisoner.
Prisoner of rites and beliefs,
Of men and patriarchy.
And only when the rains came to visit,
Did she forget the cruelty and the evil.
Only then, did she believe of balance and equilibrium,
Only then, did she wish for rights and freedom.
In her dreams she saw a much better world,
Outside these four walls.
And in those dreams,
She wasn't a prisoner of fate or creed,
She was a woman of no fears.

In the light of all that is happening in India...
©Meenu Syriac

#indiasdaughter

Mar 2015

ASPAR A Sol Poet Arnay Rumens

Crimson Quill

Forward he leaned gazing to her eyes,
her pale hand he drew to lips,
Shivers leaking her gaze,
she surrendered,
His red lips opening,
hypnotic love whispers
along her hand

Biting

into sweet flesh,
bleed he breathed,
bleed unto my call,
and she oozed crimson flow,
Lowing her pale hand
upon his candled table,
quill in hand he drove its tip into her wound

he wrote to parchment,

My dearest blooded sweetness,
You are my wine,
Pausing, meeting her gaze,
Venturing forth quill dipped crimson flow,

he wrote,

Cold shivered skies, ice moon,
immortal loneliness darkest mind,
my delicious rose white,
I darkest of thorns,
entwined wines

~ Evermore mine ~

© Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet 2014

When a vampire says I do..
I am often asked to write in darker ink, so to please readers of the night
may you shiver just a little in your blood...

Mar 2015

Poetic T

Moon Cheese Mouse

I was a mouse and I lived on
The moon, I ate grey cheese it
Was always grey never anything
New.

But then someone parked, left
Scorch marks on my favourite
Grey patch of cheese, so I
Sneaked aboard and watched
Them claim my cheese in the
Name of man, in the name of
History

What was man? did he taste
Good? but I smelt him and
Could tell he smelt not so
Good, We landed it took a
While, I sneaked off to find
New cheeses that I could see
From my cheese moon seat
So far away down.

I tasted here ,I tasted there,
But I preferred what I had left
Behind, that place  in the sky.
I had left to come to this place,
That tasted like moon ant hair.

I waited a while for the ride
That took me from there, but
It was doing a round  trip, so
I'd have sneak off and catch a
lift home from there.

So whoosh I went up through
The clouds, and through the
Blue, to the darkness out there.
I chewed and nibbled, then some
More. It got them in a little
Trouble, they solved this then
Were on there way.

I floated around waiting for a
Ride, then some tasty space rock
Was heading my way, I caught
It as it did fly on by. Then to
Home I was off with a jolt, I got
Near the surface my time to get off.

I landed after floating for a while,
Where the space rock had landed,
Juicy grey rocks had flown around
All mine to taste once more. I was
In heaven, I hope those humans
Never come back, as this moon of
Grey cheese is my  favourite place.
And there's not much tasty cheese
On that multi-coloured rock.

We some times do not realise we have it good till we leave, and then realize we should have stayed

#moon #sky #cheese #mouse #kids-stories

Mar 2015

ryn

Save It

I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.

.
This is a peaceful community, almost sacred to many. All bearing a heart (hale or ailing) are welcome to spill their ink... Regardless of writing experience or poetic prowess.

Bear in mind that people write for various reasons. Some are really good at it, some are just barely starting. Some ask for feedback, some just want an outlet.

So... Be nice. Use the private messaging feature if you really need to offload your thoughts on another's text offering.

Respect and be respected.
.

#respect #hellopoetry107 #commentwisely

Mar 2015

K Balachandran

Poet's secret

Rain clouds, swirling emotions, crowd the horizon,
mind is taken over by wistfulness, sitting on her throne
of pain alone,the poet cradles her heart, to a trance she slips,
wings to a world, everything is possible----

melting heart's alchemy, builds a metaphoric edifice
she wills to live in it incognito for ever
none will discover this secret unless rarely an intrepid reader
without even knocking on the door comes in
perhaps, if a sweet suspicion arises, when resonating
with it's ambiguous core, and gets a mute invitation,

the poem now is a lit house, in the pitch darkness of life
two inhabitants with different visions choose to live,
this house of metamorphosis, with increasing rooms
gets more visitors, who come and stay, at times they wish.

times invariably change, visitors swell or become a trickle,
the house well founded in the strength of a metaphor is alive,
around it's fireplace generations would huddle, find solace,
they hear the beats of thunderclaps and songs of pouring rain.

"Never write a poem on poetry; a meta poem is a bad idea" you certainly must have heard those words repeatedly.Still ..it happens

#emotions #wings #alchemy #poesy

Mar 2015

Dawn King

Faith Mantra

In the back alley of a lost borough
A jet black wildcat adorned with silver and gems
Meets with a company of wolves

The aroma of chamomile and lavender
Lay heavy in the air

The north winds arrive
Questioning their summons
But remain in an army of dust devils

A shaman reveals himself

The group proceeds out into a ground cloud
Chanting archaic languages
To the banshee’s of dying beliefs

Mar 2015

Amitav Radiance

Custodians of Poetry

O’ custodians of poetry
Gather all at the Poet’s hall
Take a pledge to write
Poetry shall flow endlessly
Creativity shall never end
Our words shall birth future poetry
Prayer to our Muse
For the flow of inspirations
We can make harmony
When poets gather in unison
Poetry will be enriched
With the feelings and emotions
Poetry shall inspire the poetic minds
To come out of the slumber
Here, poetic world beckons
Creativity is a talisman
O’ custodians of poetry
Listen to this prayer

#poetry #art #muse #poets #creativity #poeticworld

Mar 2015

SG Holter

Soil

I've been a construction worker
My entire adult
Life.

Still, I cannot
Seem to rebuild
Her confidence.

I've been a poet for
As long as I can
Remember,

But my encouraging
Hollow-point-words shatter
Against her insecure kevlar.

Suppose all I can be is
Sunlight, water and
Soil.

I'll try that; I've been a
Farmer's boy since
Birth.

Mar 2015

Jack

Life…never alone

.

Crooked pathways
twisting and turning
through sarcastic shadows
and broken branch detours
draining every desire

Climbing mountains, daily inclines
sapping strength
in challenges formed
of uphill battles
in a losing war

Following stagnant streams
flooded with teardrops
raining on every parade
of drenched floats with
soggy paper flowers

Blinded by the sun
wishing for white clouds
that only hover much darker
than those lonely nights
with no moon to hold you

Or lonely highways
of dotted line decisions
changing lanes
hoping for an exit
but finding a dead end...

Know that there will be a light
glowing of a caring heart
beaming brightly, illuminating the way
in every fog riddled alleyway
you may wander, for…

Wherever life leads you
no matter what you may face
obstacles that might present themselves
I will travel this journey with you…
you will never be alone

A poetic promise

Mar 2015

Mercurychyld

LYRICAL POISON

I see what you're doing; I know what you are.
Seen you travel some distance through
this lyrical bar.

I know your particular flavor,
as you 'give' yet leave nothing
to savor.

Did you say it all...did you feed your
callous need?
As your 'so called' critiques and comments
just left another to bleed?

How 'brave' you are behind your avatar,
but you see,
You've done little, if anything, to honestly
impress me.

You use your lack of diplomatic restraint
to simply crush spirits and leave behind
a dark, bitter taint.

Did you say all you needed, does is make
you feel better?
To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings
altogether?

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

The bile and power of your word,
leaves poor souls understanding
that their thoughts and opinions, to you,
are absurd.

Time after time I read your insolent speeches
on many a blog,
as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing
a high voltage flog.

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits
and leave a word of kindness;
never leaving them with lyrical blindness.

Sometimes I may read, and have nothing
to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve,
or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of
recognition...far, far away.

I just felt this deep need to express,
how you're grating on my nerves;
with your sour, evil comments
just disguised as 'clever words'.

Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen
words that INSPIRE...
I promise I'll be kind, even as
I unleash my fire...
unto the likes of you...
such a mean spirited shrew!

So next time, give great thought
to your comment before you click away,
'cause I know many a great poet here,
that by YOUR cold, pathetic words...
will NOT be chased away!

-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Dedicated to Elsa Angelica, and all of those who've ever had to deal with harsh words in regard to something you've written. Never stop writing friends.