Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Imaan Asif Nov 2024
I am losing myself
Withering away
Each day
Everyday.

I am stuck
I can’t move
I hurt others
While I hurt me too.

I stand, unmoving---
In this wretched place
In the midst of darkness
In this open space.

I don’t know how to let it out
Everything within me
All the grief, all the woe
Every heartache, it doesn’t go
Away from me.

Nobody can save me now
It’s all too late
I keep on writing about it
A little wish
Help me escape.

I’ve have reached the end of the page
Now
I don’t know what’s next
Misery has wrapped its arms around me
Misery has even scared death.
Alkia Nov 2024
Years and time again we say, what is love, how we know it’s love
It goes like this in every conversation
Love is, love is this, no love is that
debate go on and on
year and time again we say, this generation don’t know what Love is
It goes like this in every conversation
Love is, love is this, no love is that
but I say love is you
What you like
The good thing you never had before
love what you want it to be
Love is flesh of other and soul that makes them.
Alkia Nov 2024
Was I truly that blind for the feeling they had for each other?

Was I truly that blind?

Was it just my point of view that didn’t catch the questionable site?

Was it a figment of my imagination?

Was I truly that in love to think I was the only one?

Did I portray my whole relationship as this happy ever after, and beyond that, it was more complicated to my existing eyes?

To those existing eyes, it wasn’t us; we never crossed their minds; we were never existence.
I hope you like my first poem on hellopoetry.
Imaan Asif Nov 2024
Your eyes
They tell a story
Story of the battles you’ve won
Despite being alone
All the kingdoms you run
With solely you on the throne
Your eyes
Dipped in love
Despite the darkness they have seen
In your eyes
Lies a land, I always get lost in
Your eyes
So majestic as the blue sky above
Your eyes
Like crystal waters
Oh my-----
I think I’ve fallen in love
Imaan Asif Nov 2024
It’s November
And everything I feel within
Is what I see around,
The coalescing fog,
The turbidity of clouds,
Coldness enveloping itself again,
Before the trees; wilting leaves bow,
As I stand there, I feel understood,
It’s November,
Hence I am not alone
in the woods
~
November 2024
HP Poet: Jill
Age: 47
Country: Australia


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Jill. Please tell us about your background?

Jill: "Mum and dad immigrated from Northern Ireland to Australia before having my brother and me. I’m very grateful to be living in South Australia on Kaurna Land. My parents were teachers, and they seeded and encouraged my love for education. At university I studied psychology, philosophy, and French. Then I went on to a PhD in psychology, and later, a master’s degree in statistics. In my day job, I’m a psychology professor, which includes lots of scientific writing. Outside work, I love playing music and singing with my partner and our friends and spending time with my precious son and our fluffy dog."


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

Jill: "I’ve been writing poetry on and off for years. The times in my life where I have been most active coincided with having friends who were interested in reading and writing together. In high school, my dear friend and I would watch British comedy shows and write silly, surreal, or nonsense poetry. Our aim was to make each other laugh as much as possible. More currently, I’ve been writing songs with friends, including lyrics, which often start as poems. I joined HP only recently, in August 2024. This community is so generous and supportive, with such a variety of style, depth, and imagination for inspiration and motivation."


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

Jill: "In many of my poems, I’m trying to make sense of big feelings. I often write about my experiences caring for my parents, who both had close and complex relationships with alcohol. That is a never-ending well for poetry, ranging from trying to process some of the intense events, to exploring what it has meant for my self-concept and mental health. Having said that, sometimes I’m just trying to write something that sounds pretty or might cause someone to smile. I love challenges like BLT's Webster’s Word of the Day – seeing what comes from a single word across different poets."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Jill: "In my more personal poems I am documenting, reconsidering, and re-investigating my memories, and organising them in nice, even lines, which feels cathartic. In poems, I find that the small or large amount of distance that you can create through imagery, rhyme, or humor makes it possible to explore difficult or even traumatic experiences, thoughts, and feelings. Writing poetry is a transformative exercise, but there is something greater still about sharing poetry with others."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Jill: "One of my favorite poets is WB Yeats, I particularly love 'The Stolen Child'. Other all-time favorites include Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, AA Milne, Lewis Caroll, Edward Lear, Spike Milligan, Rik Mayall, and Crawford Howard. I also love lyricists like Joni Mitchell, Michael Stipe, Stephen Schwartz, Tim Minchin, Wayne Coyne, Stephen Malkmus, and Rufus Wainright. I have so many favorites on HP – too many to list!"


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Jill: "I love music. Since childhood, I’ve played violin in classical orchestras and musical theatre pits. I adore Irish folk music. For me, at the moment, music mostly happens with friends, with my electric violin, in pub bands of different kinds. Most of the poems I’ve written previously have only been publicly shared, adapted as song lyrics, with some of these bands. I also love all things science-fiction."


Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much Jill, we truly appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! We are thrilled to include you in this ongoing series!”

Jill: "Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to be a part of this, Carlo! It is such a privilege."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Jill a little bit better. I most 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 #22 in December!

~
Every time I called your name.

Every time I believed in change.

you called me weak and lame.

Said I couldn't hang.

Said I'm to blame.

Exchange rearrange the fallen rain.

Now my pockets full of bills and change.

Now I'm known,

Now you wanna blow my line,

call my phone,

Rang! Rang! Rang!

Sorry, never home,

and I think I'm better off on my own.

No time remains,

syringe hits the vain.

Pulling back the hammer,

squeeze the trigger,

BANG!!!!



Barrell to the head.

thru the dome the bullet slowly kills the pain.

White walls painted red.

Funny how the paper contains all my shame.

entertained from all your played games.

No other way to seal the deal.

Final supper full of dread.

All your lie to ****.

Every time I hear your heels.

never looking back running for the hills.

I spin my wheels,

pushing bricks of lead.

Take these pills,

should help with the chills you feel,

but all the blood I spilled

keeps me awake in bed.

I toss and turn,

losing my head.

Going crazy

needed help but you fled.

Leaving me broken instead.

spoon feed.

Guilty pled,

feelings dead,

love for meds,

Flounders Ned.

Reverse physiology just in case you've misread.

Undesired, untouched like a moldy piece of bread.

brain matter splatters and spreads,

all my hate I bred.

hanging on by a thread.

Heart mislead,

so I sped ahead

to this weather that casts overhead.

News of the fallen king widespread.

Lost love, From the unwebbed.
Everyday, I stay so faded.

**** the pain, **** the hatred.

Life's insane, barely made it.

Cross my path, and I'll take it.

Don't you lie, don't you fake it.

Lost the game, feeling naked.

I'm to blame, time I wasted.

I'm to hang, when I face it.

Shoot the brain, living basic.

Never change, want to break it.

In a cage, segregated.

Full of rage, overrated.

Problems rain, complicated.

Stay the same, intoxicated.

Take your aim, concentrated.

In a grave, situated.



If I die, terminated.

To the sky, inspirated.

Ask me why, medicated.

So why try, obligated.

I'm that guy, hibernated.

Intertwine, suffocated.

Apologize, irritated.

Energized, calculated.

Dramatized, domesticated.

Hypnotized, captivated.

Mesmerized, educated.

Naturalized, regulated.

Recognized, discriminated.

Vandalized, motivated.

Fertilized, impregnated.

Terrorized, infiltrated.
MOHD LIAQUAT Oct 2024
Oh garden fairy, if you should pass by,
Whisper the secrets of joy, don’t be shy.
Tell me, dear blooms, how you find delight,
Can my garden revive in the soft morning light?

With petals so vibrant, and leaves that entwine,
Is there magic in sunlight, or roots that align?
In the dance of the daisies, in the hum of the bees,
Can you show me the way to their effortless ease?

For once I was happy, like flowers in spring,
In a garden of laughter, where love would take wing.
Now shadows invade my once-bright retreat,
And my heart feels the weight of a bittersweet beat.

So whisper your wisdom, sweet fairy of flowers,
Guide me to joy through these desolate hours.
With each bud that opens, with fragrance anew,
Help me uncover the love that I knew.

Oh garden fairy, if you should pass near,
Bring back the brightness, erase all my fear.
Let my heart blossom, like roses in bloom,
And fill my lost garden with joy to consume.
Next page