Inspirational - Hello Poetry

Jul 11

Joshua Phelps

lately,
i've been down—
and i don't understand
why it still haunts me.

i thought
this would be
the last time.

i was ready
to move on,
but there was
one last storm
i didn’t account for.

i know—
pain isn’t linear,
and sometimes,
the thunder rolls
before the rain
takes form.

but love
was never meant
to last,

not today,
not tomorrow—
not even
if you asked.

so baby,
i ask of you:
let this love
live in the past.

there won’t be
a final act—
just two hearts
moving forward,
intact.

let this love (live in the past)

a quiet goodbye.

not out of anger—just out of finally knowing when to let go.

this one’s about the storm you didn’t see coming,

the closure you had to create yourself,

and the kind of love that’s better left behind.

#breakup #lettinggo #healing #poetrycommunity #goodbye #movingon #loveandloss #grief #pastlovers #poetryheals

Jul 9

Pagan Paul

For Hours of Time

The candle flickers silent as night
as an owl hoots at the dark.
Launching into flight from on high,
poised to strike at its mark.

From the window the flame shines
shredding shadows to and fro,
attracting the moths and fireflies
to bathe in the soft light glow.

The owl shrieks as it strikes
and the candle continues to shine.
I sit, watch and marvel at the show,
lost in the spectacle for hours of time.
For hours of time.

(15/07/23)

I had the title of this poem in my notebook for over a year before the words came to me. Odd, as usually I write a poem and the title comes out of that!

#hours #time #meditation

Jul 6

Agnes de Lods

The Caterpillar’s Self

Thousands of eyes,
looking at my sleeping body.
After my false awakening,
I saw them,
still trapped in the dream.
They were recording
my every painful breath.

Eyes without eyelids,
dense, dark air.
I became an unexpected glitch
in the imposed system.
They just didn’t know
what to do with me.

The spiders around my bed
were watching over
the meaning of my existence.

I had only a deep need
to find a place
for all elements
of the broken vessel,
the black pupils,
the witnesses
to my faltering walk.

I am not yet a butterfly.
I am the caterpillar
in a long ego tunnel.

Thomas was right.

To heal,
I must keep going
and going
until all becomes
one seamless whole,
ready to transform
into a flying being,
free from the chain of wounds,
sacrificed
on the altar
of broken Ego.

Thomas Metzinger
Thomas Merton

#thecaterpillarsself

Jul 1

Karen

Fly free

Soft butterfly wings
Caught upon a spider's web -
Entangled the heart

Jun 19

Agnes de Lods

FISSION

You and I—
we feel,
we love,
we regret.
Yet we remain
the binding particle
of a formless self.

They divide us,
pit us against each other.
We found safety
for thirteen days.

Before dawn,
we felt the breath
that seeps through cracks
into minds like a narrow thread of force,
and the fog spilled out.

Above our heads, false stars
created by warm bodies
to annihilate
what passed through the gate
of a birthing woman.

We write words to conjure
happy endings
at the ball of extermination
that tears apart
the pulsing light
of a thousand veins.

Please sit with me
before you go
Do you feel it—
the mourning procession
of human beings
transforming into a state of fission
and drifting away?

And a sigh is so sad
of trembling atoms
when the victim becomes the destroyer.

Feel the force of the fall,
and do not shatter hope
even if the world
trembles to its core
because there is still YOU,
still ME,
and still

OTHERS.

Hania Rani Journey-from xAbo: Father Boniecki

#humanconflict #hope #loss #grief

Jun 2

heidi

The Beach

Sitting in the sand
watching the waves steal the shore,
seagulls cry above

inspired at king's beach, california

#haiku #nature #beach #water

Jun 1

Aegis Vistoria Penumbra

What's Real and What's Not

"Money can't buy everything."
Oh, sure it can.
"It can't buy happiness,
It can't buy friends."
Of course it can.
"Perhaps you're right,
But they'll never be real."

So what?

Math is fake,
Economics is fake,
Language is fake,
And yet,

It is what's fake that allows us to cooperate.

"But money corrupts!"
For sure, so what?
My friend was earned, not bought
By kindness, not cash.
Yet still, for twelve years we have been
Fake friends.
And one day she left
Because my value was spent.
I don't need money to have fake things.
I can get those for free.
"But why would you?"
Because it meant something to me,

Real or not.

"Oh, but money is greed."
Of course, greed is as certain as gravity.
So why did the tree fall?
"Gravity, of course!"
As if gravity wasn't there when it stood for forty years.
Ah, right.

Perhaps it was the axe.

So, why did my friend leave?
Certainly not greed,
That was there when we got along.
"Because she was fake!"
As if she wasn't fake for twelve years.
Ah, right.
Perhaps it was...

Well I'm not sure, you'll have to ask her.

I buy fake jewelry.
Because I can't afford the real thing.
And I care not for luxury,
So long as the substitute won't turn my skin green.
And even then,
With a clear coat of polish,
I'm satisfied and the goal is accomplished.

So what if it's fake, it's still pretty to me.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥,
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭.

𝐎𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬,
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥,
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭.

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞?
𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.