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 1° 
JRF
My sweet boy and my
Sweet girl how I love you both
Always and all ways.
So true. Straight from my heart.
 1° 
minx
keep it sweet
but i just really wanna
grind on your thigh
while your hand
softly strokes my side

i wanna be yours
but we have different interpretations
you wanna be my daddy
but i want you
to be my daddy

i can't help it
you can't help it
you're so excited
kissing my neck
snaking your hands tight around my waist

daddy, daddy, daddy
the endearment is so twisted in my mind
you won't ever be my daddy
but you'll always be my daddy
i'm so, so innocent, but am i really ?
whoops...
In Abu Dhabi where the sun does rise,
A city gleams beneath the skies.
From Sheikh Zayed’s grand, sacred halls,
To Corniche’s waves and desert calls.
With every dawn, through every night,
Abu Dhabi shines with light.
Through every step, in every cheer,

Abu Dhabi’s soul is near.
In every glance, in every song,
Abu Dhabi’s heart beats strong.
With every dream, in every dance,
Abu Dhabi takes a chance.
In every smile, in every tear,
Abu Dhabi’s spirit is clear.
Through every storm, through every sun,
Abu Dhabi’s journey has begun.
New visit to Abu Dhabi
 1° 
Pluto
What’s worse than loving you
but knowing I can’t have you?
Not the silence,
not the waiting,
not the ache that stretches across nights.

Even the stars fall quiet—
they know
there’s no sorrow deeper
than holding a love
that was never mine to keep.
 1° 
joaquin
i have never once
loved in moderation
that is my constant

to love any less
makes no difference
it will hurt all the same
you deserve nothing less
Traspasada por junio,
por España y la sangre,
se levanta mi lengua
con clamor a llamarte.

Campesino que mueres,
campesino que yaces
en la tierra que siente
no tragar alemanes,
no morder italianos:
español que te abates
con la nuca marcada
por un yugo infamante,
que traicionas al pueblo
defensor de los panes:
campesino, despierta,
español, que no es tarde.

Calabozos y hierros,
calabozos y cárceles,
desventuras, presidios,
atropellos y hambres,
eso estás defendiendo,
no otra cosa más grande.
Perdición de tus hijos,
maldición de tus padres,
que doblegas tus huesos
al verdugo sangrante,
que deshonras tu trigo,
que tu tierra deshaces,
campesino, despierta,
español, que no es tarde.

Retroceden al hoyo
que se cierra y se abre,
por la fuerza del pueblo
forjador de verdades,
escuadrones del crimen,
corazones brutales,
dictadores del polvo,
soberanos voraces.

Con la prisa del fuego,
en un mágico avance,
un ejército férreo
que cosecha gigantes
los arrastra hasta el polvo,
hasta el polvo los barre.

No hay quien sitie la vida,
no hay quien cerque la sangre
cuando empuña sus alas
y las clava en el aire.

La alegría y la fuerza
de estos músculos parte
como un hondo y sonoro
manantial de volcanes.

Vencedores seremos,
porque somos titanes
sonriendo a las balas
y gritando: ¡Adelante!
La salud de los trigos
sólo aquí huele y arde.

De la muerte y la muerte
sois: de nadie y de nadie.
De la vida nosotros,
del sabor de los árboles.

Victoriosos saldremos
de las fúnebres fauces,
remontándonos libres
sobre tantos plumajes,
dominantes las frentes,
el mirar dominante,
y vosotros vencidos
como aquellos cadáveres.

Campesino, despierta,
español, que no es tarde.
A este lado de España
esperamos que pases:
que tu tierra y tu cuerpo
la invasión no se trague.
 1° 
Traveler
Awaken onto nature
Set your spirit free
Mighty are her waters
Ancient are her trees
Open wide oh starlit sky
Magical summer heights  
Mighty forest kingdom
Feathered furred in flight
Embrace her in the mornning
Evening tides roll out
In the cycle of her Venus
Ending way down south
Love her when she's frozen
She shall thaw again
Awaken on to Nature
Enjoy Her
While you can!
Traveler Tim
 1° 
Bluebird
Him - "let's do it this way, what's your biggest regret, like ever."

Me "forgetting that people can die and never come back"

(Laughter)
That's it
 1° 
Cazzie
He reclines in his brittle chair carved from his own grief,
Not very regal, but heavily resigned to the aches.
The weight of silence cleanly cuts through the air.
His hands, now mapless, no longer seek.
Memories he left behind in clouds, were few and brief.

Books cradle their breath upon the shelf.
Never once a glance as he knows their unchanging tone.
The windows screech with tempered light
As regret drips down the pale pane of ivory bones.
His posture reflects the weight of years notched in his belt.
The leather groans, stretched too thin like his sense of self.

The hour never bows a whim to beg his name.
Dust circles, never sure as to where to fall.
His suit of choice is a reliquary of loss.
Each button, a distant memory hard pressed in shame.
The air is stained
The room too small.
A silent gasp
The last breath falls.
 1° 
Sherri Woodman
Today I got a hug, out of the blue                                                             ­     
                                                           ­                                                               
and it even came with an "I love you''                                                            ­    
                                                            ­                                                        
Such a simple kind gesture                                                          ­                                                  
              ­                                                                 ­                               
  It brought me such pleasure                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­                                                          
It picked me up when I felt down                                                             ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­      
  turned my day totally around                                                           ­                 
                                                                ­                                                  
  Just when I thought no one cared                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                        
someone loved me, someone shared
 1° 
Amethyste
I love our sweet little talks
I love your warm voice
your witty mind
when you have got a friend
you have got the world.
 1° 
Liana
When you fly high
The fall is hard
Whenever I have a good time and then it’s over
 1° 
Robin Edwards
Everything depends
On the tall green grass of May
Under a blue sky
 1° 
Juliana
How do I tell him
That he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me
And that I love him
Cause I really do love him
And have never met anyone like him ever before
When he won’t even talk to me
 1° 
nivek
each sit down
a new mine to dig

the map drawn
in everyday things

inexhaustible discoveries
waiting to be found

its a songsters world
a poetical dance.
 1° 
Robin Edwards
Suddenly we see
At the corners of our eyes
The cost of our love
 1° 
Mrs Timetable
I want to write
A little poetry book
Fitting in my pocket
To carry with me
With five little poems
One for each finger of your hand
Your hand that led me here
My muse
My blues
My cues
My heart tattoos
My infuse
So I will call it YOUs
I'm gonna do it. Watch me.
 1° 
Sandy
"Mental Healing"

Why to take stress for
which is extracorporeal?

Go to the roof at night
Watch the stars and squeal
It will surely make you heal.

Whatever you have been chosen to do
Do it with full zest and zeal.
You will definitely find the weal.

Why hide behind the veil
If you are true, reveal
Why to conceal?

Never cheat yourself,  always be leal.

Well these are only words and are incorporeal.
But its promise if you do the aforesaid
You will feel the experience which will be ethereal.
                  
- Writer Sandeep Kaushal
This is my First attempt on Hello Poetry. Whenever we feel stress, reality seems to fade as if there is no meaning to life. These are the moments where we need Stress Busters. So, kindly read and give feedback.
 1° 
Victor Hugo
Le toit s'égaie et rit.
ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.


Lorsque l'enfant paraît, le cercle de famille
Applaudit à grands cris.
Son doux regard qui brille
Fait briller tous les yeux,
Et les plus tristes fronts, les plus souillés peut-être,
Se dérident soudain à voir l'enfant paraître,
Innocent et joyeux.

Soit que juin ait verdi mon seuil, ou que novembre
Fasse autour d'un grand feu vacillant dans la chambre
Les chaises se toucher,
Quand l'enfant vient, la joie arrive et nous éclaire.
On rit, on se récrie, on l'appelle, et sa mère
Tremble à le voir marcher.

Quelquefois nous parlons, en remuant la flamme,
De patrie et de Dieu, des poètes, de l'âme
Qui s'élève en priant ;
L'enfant paraît, adieu le ciel et la patrie
Et les poètes saints ! la grave causerie
S'arrête en souriant.

La nuit, quand l'homme dort, quand l'esprit rêve, à l'heure
Où l'on entend gémir, comme une voix qui pleure,
L'onde entre les roseaux,
Si l'aube tout à coup là-bas luit comme un phare,
Sa clarté dans les champs éveille une fanfare
De cloches et d'oiseaux.

Enfant, vous êtes l'aube et mon âme est la plaine
Qui des plus douces fleurs embaume son haleine
Quand vous la respirez ;
Mon âme est la forêt dont les sombres ramures
S'emplissent pour vous seul de suaves murmures
Et de rayons dorés !

Car vos beaux yeux sont pleins de douceurs infinies,
Car vos petites mains, joyeuses et bénies,
N'ont point mal fait encor ;
Jamais vos jeunes pas n'ont touché notre fange,
Tête sacrée ! enfant aux cheveux blonds ! bel ange
À l'auréole d'or !

Vous êtes parmi nous la colombe de l'arche.
Vos pieds tendres et purs n'ont point l'âge où l'on marche.
Vos ailes sont d'azur.
Sans le comprendre encor vous regardez le monde.
Double virginité ! corps où rien n'est immonde,
Âme où rien n'est impur !

Il est si beau, l'enfant, avec son doux sourire,
Sa douce bonne foi, sa voix qui veut tout dire,
Ses pleurs vite apaisés,
Laissant errer sa vue étonnée et ravie,
Offrant de toutes parts sa jeune âme à la vie
Et sa bouche aux baisers !

Seigneur ! préservez-moi, préservez ceux que j'aime,
Frères, parents, amis, et mes ennemis même
Dans le mal triomphants,
De jamais voir, Seigneur ! l'été sans fleurs vermeilles,
La cage sans oiseaux, la ruche sans abeilles,
La maison sans enfants !

Mai 1830.
 1° 
Mike Adam
Trembling leaves stand out,
Yellow amongst the green-

First to expire in heat,
They tremble and fall
Decondensed,
Brittle dry harbingers

Of an early Autumn,
Chill borne on North
Sea breeze

This sunny Summer morn
 1° 
Maria Etre
The shutters
                      let
                       in
                        l
                       i
                      n
                     e
                    s
                    o
                      f
                        l
                         i
                          g
                           h
                            t
                            t
                             o
                              t
                              r
                              a
                              c
                             e
                            y
                           o
                          u
                           r
                           o
                            w
                              n
                               p
                                o
                                 e
                                  m
 1° 
Kritika
Why do dead people get more flowers
than alive ones?
Is regret greater than gratitude?

Why do graves bloom
with petals of sorrow,
while the warm hands,
still reaching,
are left cold and empty?

Why do people love children
but neglect old parents?
why do we cherish youth,
soft , unwrinkled
but aver our gaze
from the hands
that built our world?
 1° 
Yu
im suffocating
what were you expecting?
its all your fault
negligence
the cruelest thing you've done
is breathe life into my figure
at least if i die, not by my own will
the death will be justifiable, honourable almost
not a lone soul waiting, for their own self-destruction
i know you don't feel the same way
you'll never say i do
thank you for giving me the opportunity
to finally say i love you
and i miss you too
(25 May 2025)
 1° 
Tinotenda
Free birds 🦅

As much as I can see can I go
as much as I dream can I be
as much as I seek can I find
as much as walk can I reach
I was living a life of a falcon
with the dreams of an ostrich ,
and had to guide my own like eagle

As much as I can see can I go
My eyes could see freedom but the wings
Couldn't fly to freedom
As much as I dream can i be
Only the dream of freedom was in my head
The lost bird that was caged for years dreaming of freedom
As much as I walk can I be
The freedom couldn't reach to but I had to walk to freedom
I was living a falcon dreams ,that I could spot all the danger nothing goes unnoticed
Yet am eagles
Yet I could run the race like a ostrich
 1° 
Jaime Sabines
¿Qué putas puedo hacer con mi rodilla,
con mi pierna tan larga y tan flaca,
con mis brazos, con mi lengua,
con mis flacos ojos?
¿Qué puedo hacer en este remolino
de imbéciles de buena voluntad?
¿Qué puedo con inteligentes podridos
y con dulces niñas que no quieren hombre sino poesía?
¿Qué puedo entre los poetas uniformados
por la academia o por el comunismo?
¿Qué, entre vendedores o políticos
o pastores de almas?
¿Qué putas puedo hacer, Tarumba,
si no soy santo, ni héroe, ni bandido,
ni adorador del arte,
ni boticario,
ni rebelde?
¿Qué puedo hacer si puedo hacerlo todo
y no tengo ganas sino de mirar y mirar?
 1° 
Jellyfish
I keep trying to learn more
I want to understand myself better
I'm alone at the end of the day
No one else will put in the same effort as me.
 1° 
Ciara
She is a butterfly...
hiding under sunspots.
He’s a gecko,
lurking in that velvet corner where the light forgets to go.

She is chaos—
he’s the eye of her storm.

They were born from deep sea vents,
rose up to the skies like they meant to crack open clouds,
pull humans into a frenzy
no weather pattern could predict.

She calls it life.
He? He just stares into death,
like it’s a familiar hallway with flickering lights.

The question of origin?
It’s always that stupid finger—
pointing,
blaming,
laughing at the moment they both thought:
"Wait… was any of it even real?"

Hey, ****.
It’s all tiny signals,
she read.

"It’s all eternity,"
he preached,
like a god with a broken clock.

They walked through each other’s ghost stories,
talked all night in a language made of
fake memories,
false starts,
and déjà vus shaped like abandoned houses.

They locked eyes—
those traitorous, trembling eyes—
and whispered vows
to nights that haven’t happened yet.
To days that only those **** aliens have seen.

Yeah. Those aliens.
The ones living on the edge
of the universe’s bubble,
eating popcorn,
watching this bubble bursting program
on cosmic cable.

And when the light consumed the darkness,
when the tiny capsules cracked open like old seeds—
they were left raw.
Naked.
Shivering in the gift-wrapped curse
called "Time."

She ran away.
He walked away.

Moments…
split.
Time…
parted.

While million-dollar math problems
sit unsolved on cluttered desks,
watched over by smoke-drenched visionaries
who know something’s wrong
but can’t solve heartbreak
with equations.

This is the program.
It’s always been the program.
We’re just signals,
wrapped in skin,
playing roles,
in a show
with no rehearsal
and no pause button.

So if you’re watching,
dear alien—
just know…

We improvised the whole **** thing.
Just like that, outta the blue
I realize that no matter what I do
There'll never ever be another you
And it hurts like hell...
Btw, how great is Chet Baker??
 1° 
Melanie Munoz
I stumble through these dark streets.
My dry mouth and slurred speech.
I called you but you won't receive,
My drunken pleads and memories.
Contorted minds and lucid dreams,
I'll sink into sublunary.

-Melanie Munoz
#BeKrule
 1° 
alex
I’m bored now.
I don’t want the calm before the storm
I want the storm,
right now.

break me,
burn me,
do whatever,
I’m ready.
I crave the storm that makes me feel alive again
 1° 
heidi
Gentle lips parted,
they form a soft '𝑜' of sleep.
I wish you sweet dreams.
he rests so peacefully, it warms my heart
 1° 
ms hitt
It is beautiful;
was the sky always this blue
and lucid with creme lent away by
the heaven's tears?

It is beautiful;
were the oceans always this vast
and dark with the mystique of the millennia
chipped away at stone, like a forsaken
mason?

It is beautiful;
were the peaks and valleys always this detailed
wrinkled with strokes of cosmic paint, ridged like
a sheet of linen?

It is beautiful;
was the sky always as blue as the oceans?
Were the mountains always higher than the waves?
Was the snow always mingling with the clouds?

It is beautiful;
and, what a wonderful world
for us to borrow
for a just moment.
 1° 
Sarah
I am a son
I am a father
I am a daughter
I am a mother

Why do I starve?
For what crime do you punish me?
Am I an animal?
Can't you afford me empathy?

I am a son
I am a father
I am a mother
I am a daughter

But most importantly I am a human.
The genocide in Gaza and the current starvation is undeniable.
 1° 
Maddy
You need to go
Nothing is great with you or about you
Hurting and broken
What makes us special
Incredible
You want to destroy
So 25 th send him packing
A field of poppies helps us remember
The brave and gallant
Two adjectives that will never apply to
Private Bone Spurs
Nothing beautiful about you or your bills
Cruel and selfish that is what you all are
 1° 
badwords
Emaciated creatures
pace their pens
Erasable features
begin and end

locked in hand
locked by key
Just demand
Dreamless sea

The miasma shrieks
An impulse creeps
Floorboards creak
to disturb your sleep

Now rest well
Empty, undefined
heaven or hell
you decide
 1° 
afrota
Do not rewrite the past.
No hand can erase
what time has carved
in wounded skin.

Let your oldest notebook
inscribe the first line
of a new tale —
written in fresh tears
and the sweat
of becoming
a future still unfolding.
 1° 
Mel Little
You don’t know

That I trace

Three words

On your back

In every language that I know

So that it sinks into your skin,

So that your soul knows before your ears ever do
 1° 
M Ignacio
to my shadow,
no love
shall I give
so, cling and clutch
as you may
under flicks of day
and all that is
sweet as death
and between us, the silence
in darkness, seize
the sky
and choke all that is lullaby  
wrap me cold
and in darkness, unfold
your wings, on the wall above
but tonight, as I write  
no candles, I’ll light
no battle, no shadow, no love
night can go either way, depends on where the shadows will lay
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