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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
A tough outer shell
Soft inner core, within
In crevices deep
Lies sweet water still

Calm and swift
The duck glides by
The pond
Where predators lurk

Like the powerhouse
Its energy source, profound
When it lights up
Brightens the whole town

An inspiration
Lies in the unlikeliest of places
Manifests itself
In Petals of lotuses

Sometimes in life’s unexpected turns
Time unveils
Solutions right
Hidden
In plain sight
Was inspired by my friend’s words

“Something’s really bugging me…
and since I know there's no solution
I’ll just keep it all bottled up" - Priti
The Gunners' cry,
Where right and glory lead.
Spirits soar high,
Legacies live on
Unbroken by destiny.

Through shot and shell,
Through peace and war,
Until duty is finally done.
Rest easy and keep watch
From the heavens above.

Ubique always,
In faith and brotherhood.

©️Lizzie Bevis
My Father passed away on Wednesday, 2nd July after a long illness.
He was a Gunner with the 40th Field Royal Artillery from the age of 17 until 27. I have heard some wonderful stories as past army pals reminisce about my father. I am so very very proud of him.
I will miss him so much.
They took the Don-key and the colt
They did not ask permission
They told the rightful owners
We have a need and want
They clothed the colt in money
Threw dollars before its feet
And entered the sacred city
looking forward to the feast
"Vox populi , Vox dei"
yelled the people
Triumphantly they were heard to yell
Little did they know
It was the beginning of four more years of Hell
Vox populi , Vox Dei -  the voice of the people is the voice of God .
The four horsemen are now mounting up
And getting ready to begin their last ride.
^
First out of the barn will be a white Stallion
Who rears at the thought of Conquest and power.
Trump is aboard with a crown on his head
And the Antichrist mantle thrown over his shoulders.
^
Behind him prances the red Bronco of War
With Vladimir Putin safely astride him
A broadsword in each hand, both already bloodied.
^
The black Mare of Famine kicks out at it’s stall door
Awaiting the coming of Ben Netanyahu,
Still busy blockading the food from the starving.
^
The pale steed that’s waiting for Elon to mount up
Has his scythe by the saddle, awaiting his hand
To deliver the Death that he’s promised to hopefulness.
^
The stable is ready
Its doors are wide open.
The call of the trumpets
Has not yet been heard
But only the pounding of
Impatient hooves that are
Eagerly wanting
To be out and away
ljm
Another visit to this theme
IT'S A LONG LONG ROAD

You the proud
horseman of my shoulders.

My curls
your reins.

The sky dripping with
pure happiness.

The horizon a sheer line
of nothing

but joy.

I gallop off
into the infinity

of this one
and only moment.

The centaur of
my little brother's world.



Now you
are in your pudgy phase

and I can only carry
you on my back.

I tell you
you are my koala bear.

You like the sound
of that.

"I'm a Coca Cola bear!"
you chant.

"Yeah..." I huff.
"...right!" I puff.

You are too heavy.

You ask me if you
are "...too heavy?"

"Not a bit!"
I lie.

Field after field I
carry you through that summer.

"Huffpuffhuffpuffhuffpuff!"
I turn my breath into song.
"Huffpuffhuffpuffhuffpuff!"

"You ain't heavy...
...your'e my brother!"



Now I    carry you
within me

as the living must
carry their dead.

Your memory
light as a feather

resting upon the soul.

Your death too hard
for me to bear.

I carry you through
fields of summer

you will never see.

"Am I
too heavy for you?"

Your voice
echoes inside my mind.

"No...!" I lie.

You smile.

Knowing now...I lie.

"You ain't heavy...."
I feel his little hands

tugging on the reins
of my curls.

". . .you are
my Brian!"
 Jul 5 Ken Pepiton
1DNA
~
The day cradles Night to sleep,
For even the stars need to rest.
So sleep, seraphic beauty,
You've long endured life’s test.

~
For everyone going through a tough time,
You are more than enough
I'll speak your name

until it's not pretty anymore

Until it's so sharp and so distorted

it burns my cheeks like acid.
It's what I'm good at, I'm told.
~
July 2025
HP Poet: Bekah Halle
Age: 40+
Country: Australia


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

Bekah Halle: "I am known at HP as Bekah Halle. My first name is Rebekah, and Halley is my middle name. I am the eldest of two girls, the aunt of three gorgeous girls and the eldest of 20+ cousins.

I am a counsellor and a chaplain for people across all ages. But, in my early career I was a PR & Marketing Consultant for FMCG companies and non-profits.

I am creative and love art, drama, photography, poetry, and music. Recently, I have become more captivated by nature, writing about it and being out in nature."



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

Bekah Halle: "As a child, I used to love writing stories, and poetry later. In some ways you could say poetry found me. In 2012 I had surgery to remove a brain aneurysm and AVM that resulted in a stroke and then being in a 40-day coma. Healing involved many modalities, locations and years and poetry was a way for me to express the things I was thinking and feeling but could not say. I didn't show them to anyone until I completed a MA in Chaplaincy and during the course, there was a reflective writing element to process our journey. During this time I brought my poetry ‘out of the closet’ or into the light, and shared with people and they encouraged me to continue writing. I looked for ways to share my poetry, to get feedback and found HP! And you all have been very encouraging!"


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

Bekah Halle: "I mostly get inspired by faith and life. I can get a stirring from the Holy Spirit and/or I can be in life and see a moment as special or in a new light and want to capture it in words. I will write, re-write and set it aside or sometimes it comes to me in a flash. The poetry writes me."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Bekah Halle: "Life. Expression. Hope. Extolling God."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Bekah Halle: "I studied Samuel Coleridge in High School and still remember his poems today. The Psalmists in The Bible, Emily Brontë, Sylvia Plath, Victor Hugo, Mary Oliver, Jane Tyson Clement, Rainer Maria Rilke, David Scott…to name a few."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Bekah Halle: "The power of gratitude, fitness, travel and learning."


Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Bekah, 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!”

Bekah Halle: "Thank you for the opportunity."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Bekah 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 #30 in August!

~
Came between us,
As I was about to kiss him,
A fly settled on his lips.
Every action has a reaction,
I cried out," Yuck,"
Startled,
He left the room without a word.
6//2025
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