love me in the crowded room
where no one is watching
watch me dance among the stars
and bellow at the wind

let me sing my worries
and whisper my joys

love me like you love the falling leaves
with your hands tucked in your pockets
before jumping in with everything

love me like you aren’t afraid
in a crowded room
for someone to see you

Osiem metrów wysokości.
Pośrodku szczelina.
Rzeźba dziecka z betonu
obok kontury ciała i pustka
po bezbronnej istocie,
której już nie ma.

Szorstka struktura szarości
rani delikatną skórę.
Głód. Choroby. Samotność.
Świat zapomina o tych,
co nie krzyczą głośno—
o tym co najbardziej boli:
o miażdżonej niewinności,
i olbrzymach pilnujących
orszak przestraszonych wielkich oczu
w małych, wychudzonych ciałach.

Pamięć nie jest wygodna.
Ona fizycznie boli.
Uparte rany nie goją się.
Było.
Jest.
Wije się w sąsiednich otchłaniach Tartaru.

Aksjomat przyjęty przez aklamację:
„Tak ma być!”

Cisza.

Na scenę wychodzi syn ocalałego.
Łamiącym się głosem szepcze:
Tata przeszedł piekło, ale kochał nas.
Przeżył, napisał pamiętniki.
Dał świadectwo.
Rozumiał ten wykolejony świat.


BROKEN HEARTS

Eight meters high.
A crevice in the center.

A concrete sculpture of a child
and the deep void.
Once there was another child,
now gone without a trace…

The rough grey texture
hurts fragile skin.
Hunger. Disease. Loneliness.

The world forgets
those who do not scream
and what hurts the most:
crushed innocence
guarded by the giants
watching the procession
of terrified wide eyes
in small, gaunt bodies.

Memory is not a peaceful place,
it brings physical pain.
It gnaws from underneath.

Stubborn,
festering wounds,
they refuse to heal.

It was.
It is.
It will happen again
by axiom,
accepted without question.

That is how it must be.

Like a venomous snake
slithering near the lands of Tartarus.
Endless sacrifice, leaden silence.

And then, the son of the survivor takes the stage.
He speaks in a whisper:

My Father went through hell, but he loved us.
He wrote it down—
a testimony of a derailed world.

He knew what it meant to be human
when it hurt.

He survived to love and to be loved.

Do you ever just ponder
And wonder of life
The splender of nature
Of wildlife?

I've heard that drugs send you to early tombs
So I sit and get high on sharpie fumes
I burnt myself on purpose but hey
No ones going to see it anyway
The light has three modes and the sounds only one
I lay in my bed instead of having fun
Is this what you wanted?
(Now you got it)
For me to hide and forget
Be forgotten, body rotten, reliving regret.

"A perfect picture lies in a broken frame"
if this is so then,
why does everyone run after it ?

Our soul is like a building
to make the outside so flawlessly beautiful,
or in one word, perfect
the very foundation breaks

What is the point of making
what the world sees perfect
just to completely break
what belongs to you ?

You know
In the hush between words
In the way a name
Feels lighter or heavier
On the tongue.

You know when it's love
Not by the flowers they bring
Bt by how they stay
When the pedals fall.

You know who's yours
And who's only passing
Through the hollow
Of your hope .

You know who holds you
With clean hands
And who touches you
With doubt.

You know who to trust
By the silence
That doesn't sting.

You know  who to choose
By how your soul softens
When they speak.

You always know
Before the goodbye
Before the first lie
Before the ache .

Even when you pretend
You don't
You do.

Because when it's real,
You never have to ask
Bt when it's not,
No answer ever fits


You know
You've always known.

At night when I close my eyes                                                             ­               there are no songs, no lullaby's                                                        ­                    I transport myself and my mind                                                                         to a peaceful place and time                                                             ­                   to sooth myself to fall asleep                                                           ­                in hopes of having beautiful dreams                                                                  I imagine that I can fly                                                              ­                    envision it in my third eye                                                              ­                      I see the tree tops from the sky                                                              ­           The highest heights I can fly                                                              ­          when I spread my bird-like wings                                                            ­           I can see the world, everything                                                       ­                    flowers, leaves and greenery                                                         ­              I feel alive I feel at peace                                                            ­            as sleep washes over me

I hate you but
I love you
So
Now what?
Stasis.
Confusion.

Oh I don’t know.

You are terrible
But I love you so terribly
Oh heartbreak
this is so so heartbreakingly
Confusing.

You should have let me stalk you in your sleep
Awoke if it was me and let me keep
A bit of soul for my system of belief
Instead of proving worthy as a thief

And on that same day in the church's trash
Found so much wine we did not trade for cash
A drunken night to gaze upon your back
Did we make love or one of us attack

Would that were a night we slept
A promise somewhere wasn't kept

I believe I have reached a point
of creative decline. Been on HP
since 2013. Close to 350 poems.
I may have thought and said
about all I have to offer.

Hard to come up with any real
original worthy material, the
old well might have run dry.
Or maybe my brain is growing
addled. That happens in our 80s.

In idle times I will still look in
on you all. I have enjoyed my
time here and made some fine
and talented writer and poet
friends. Thank you.

Adieu good and gentle people.

Most women
Want to stab me in the back
But she didn't
She was just confused
The moment she held the knife
The world went quiet
Her heart throbbed a little
Better to take the pain
Than to take a life
Right?

A moon milky white,
tossed shimmers to the trees.

The branches danced modestly,
As the leaves then whispered to the breeze.

Clouds lined with silver look to be sketched out of ash,
As brashly strewn sequins dance on black glass! X

The long and winding road McCartney slobbered about didn't stop these two passionate lovers from turning into ex-lesbians one gay May day eight years ago. "I love you Lizard Boy," Swamp woman whined like she was Ed Asner after making out with Mary Tyler Moore, or the other way around, on Ted Knight's couch.

You don’t have to rise like the sun each day—
some mornings, it's enough just to open your eyes,
to sit with the silence,
to feel your heartbeat and whisper, “I’m still here.”

You are not the storm that passed,
nor the ruins it left behind.
You are the seed under the soil,
waiting for the right rain,
the quiet miracle of a soul not giving up.

Let no one shame the pace of your healing.
Let no voice drown out the hush of your trying.
Because surviving is not small.
And breathing, on hard days,
is a kind of bravery the world forgets to praise.

So rest, dreamer.
You don’t need to shine tonight.
You just need to stay—
soft, alive,
and wildly worthy of tomorrow.

I CANNOT LOVE IN SILENCE
THE WORLD’S EARS MUST RING
FROM MY PROFESSION

I HAVE GONE MAD FOR YOU
I AM TOO FAR GONE
I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU

I tried to touch the stars last night
So i took a chair and turned off the light

I reached higher than I ever tried
I saw them already, so beautiful, I even cried

But I lost balance and the chair fell
The light went on, and I was back in my cell

I like to be soft,

but hard enough to resist --


the worldly hardness.

you wake each day with eyes like rain,
that torch the dry cinders in mine
like a chilled flame or
tender moonlit streams
in the quiet middle of the night

burn me through
flesh, then bone
as i stare at your promise, veiled in blue
pull the curtain shut
blink just once.
i will become ash at the mercy of you

I’m swimming in a deep ocean
Water in my ears
Mind spinning, drunk on bad omens
Getting harder and harder to hear

Repeating this swim despite my pleas
Changing currents fast
My oxygen depletes
And I’m stuck in the tangled trash

the other fish Are thriving well
Why is is only me?
Everyone else, feeling swell
While I am lost at sea

Running —
Running —
Everywhere. 
No destination to be found?!
My heart longs,
For what cannot be satisfied;
With meaninglessness abound...in.
Stop!
Cease chasing after the wind. You'll n'er catch him.
Stop!

Take off that old self; 
With old thoughts and old patterns,
And patent yourself on Yahweh!

Because
My heart longs —
To play, to dance, to sing, to be free;
And find strays today!
Look up and see the new path before thee.

Let the silence between us
bleed into / a space of absence
and unbury the flesh
within the violence /  
to part deep / the blackness
of starlings / heart held  
melting into the sun /
so beautiful / so cold
that even wings / the shape
of fire / eviscerate
into memory

i finally saw two magpies
for the first time
                   since february
(they were resting on
                         a signpost
then, it was valentine's day)

i wrote 'happy valentine's j x'
     & imagined you florid
(it was calflove&sweet
       & it only grew stronger)

letters, dried flowers, poems
          i wrote for You
(We were kizmit,to be,
           i always wanted You)

i gave you everything i had
   ,all but kissing sense,
(i wish i did, your lips
    were all love ever meant)

i finally saw two magpies
  You have a love, i don't
but i have finally seen joy
        & You will see me float

We talk about the
past like it's a
movie we
watched together.
You liked the
cinematography.
I didn't care for the
cruelty of the
protagonist.

We disagree on the
theme, and every
scene holds different
aspects of
symbolism for us.
I'm not sure I want
there to be a sequel,
despite the good
acting.

She will be partying
I will be drinking

She will be dancing
I will be cutting

She will be laughing
I will be bleeding

She will be talking with others
I will be watched over by others

Because She knows I'm not worth crying over
And I know She was my only and now it's over

dehumanize
-making killing
easier.

Canta en la noche, canta en la mañana,
ruiseñor, en el bosque tus amores;
canta, que llorará cuando tú llores
el alba perlas en la flor temprana.Teñido el cielo de amaranta y grana,
la brisa de la tarde entre las flores
suspirará también a los rigores
de tu amor triste y tu esperanza vana.Y en la noche serena, al puro rayo
de la callada luna, tus cantares
los ecos sonarán del bosque umbrío.Y vertiendo dulcísimo desmayo,
cual bálsamo süave en mis pesares,
endulzará tu acento el labio mío.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                        What Could be More American than
                    Masked Secret Police in Unmarked Cars?

Perhaps the suggestion has already been made:
ICE’s Black Marias could lead the parade

If what they say is true,
that there's always room for improvement, maybe the opposite is true as well.
Maybe there's room for failure too.
Don't misunderstand.
I'm not suggesting you don't try.
But life is a process.
And failure, mistakes,
they're as much a part as progress.
So, while it may never seem like an option,
I hope you come to find it's OK to fail.

Fully cooked batter,
Sprinkle of half-baked sighs.
A recipe of truth —
Never a lie.

Throw out the salt;
Add aged cheese,
A dollop of sugar,
A dash of chilies.

Don’t mention the sweat,
Nor the quiet cries.
Because
It’s the recipe of truth —
Never a lie.

Serve the truth,
Or leave it dry.
Maybe a pinch of water,
But never a lie.

i draw with silver
lines, x's and spots
under a sleeve
so i never get caught

my canvas is my skin
and so with the blade i drag
across my peach paper
so they won't be mad

i'm sorry, mom
i'm sorry, dad
i'll never be the son you wanted to have
perfect grades,
happy and smart

i'm so sorry...
i'm sorry i have to tear us apart