AlliterationFascination

Poetry by Hannah

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There comes a time

When one must

Ask in haste,

Is it worth

The pursuit?

Is it worth the

Bittersweet aftertaste

Of my words?

Is it worth the

Tart sting of pain?

The honest answer

Is no, but that

Leaves me still,

Quiet, reserved,

Longing for

That fantasy

Built in my cranium,

Pulsing through

My every nerve.

It leaves me

Precariously placed

On the edge of my seat,

On the edge of a cliff,

Looking down into

A valley of possible

“what if’s?”

Never knowing

The answer.

My other option

Is no less daunting:

To grit my teeth

And bear it all,

To show you my wrist

And hope you

Don’t cut it.

To show you

This poem and

Welcome abandonment.

I could recite

The words of

Great poets,

But they won’t do,

For you are not

A mere summer’s day,

You are the universe!

You are the Big Bang!

You are the Sun,

And I, a lowly planet.

You are my muse,

And I am pulled in

By the gravity

Of your nature.

My mind, my words,

Revolve around you…

But the distance

Is the same.

You are on one edge,

And I, on the other,

And that is why

I stay in my seat,

Look into the valley,

And listen to it

Echo your name.  

Filed under poetry literature words spoken word

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In the early hours

Of a fledgling day,

When the veil of

Fatigue and exhaustion

Overcomes my mental state,

My mind begins to travel

To far off places;

Imagining far off spaces.

When my eyelids droop,

I paint their backs

Like a blank canvas,

Gleaming fresh with

Bright paint and bold colors,

Mirroring the image

Of my mind’s eye. 

My inspiration come to life.

Creativity flows

In the dewy morning hours

When all motivation

To pursue said inspiration

Is fleeting with the shadows.

A cruel fate bestowed

Upon those newborn ideas:

To be created, then forgotten

Due to a hazy mental state.

The Inventor, myself, though

Loses out, as well.

That moment of brilliance lost, 

Leaving me with simple thoughts.

Leaving me ordinary.

Leaving me exhausted.

Leaving that brilliance lost.

Filed under poetry hannah raulston poem ideas words imagery alliterationfascination literature

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"Mystic Eyes"

Overwhelmed by

The urge to stare,

I can’t look away.

Frozen and awestruck

By the sight that sees me.

Those mystic eyes

Penetrate my being,

They catch my breath

Before I can breathe.

Soul-searching,

Attention-grabbing,

Experience-aged,

Mystic eyes.

Filed under poetry eyes magical mystic words love lust

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"Unread Pages"

All they see

Is my glossy cover,

My strong binding,

My pretty pictures…

That’s enough for some.

They never open my book;

They never read my story.

All the plot twists and

Characterization gone,

Hidden within the abyss.

My monologues have been forgotten,

Even though my stories are in

The bold black letters on

The starch white paper before them.

Too much effort,

Too much time,

Too little they care.

Heroic battles and fantastical dreams

Lost and gathering dust,

Yet it seems I still long

To be read and published;

My stories heard,

My morals learned…

My monologue turned battle cry

Not forgotten.

Filed under poetry inspirational books unread pages forgotten words

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"Mirror, Mirror"

Imagine yourself.

What do you see?

Do you see the freckles,

Or the blue eyes,

Or the hair style that’s current?

Look at yourself.

What do you see?

Do you see the small nose,

Or the plump lips,

Or the quirky smile showing?

Picture yourself.

What do you see?

Do you see the happy,

Or the teary-eyed,

Or the angry feelings burning?

Envision yourself.

What do you see?

Do you see the manners,

Or the upbringing,

Or the childhood memories horrid?

Visualize yourself.

What do you see?

Do you see as a young woman,

Or as a child,

Or as a person seeing a person?

Really see yourself.

What do you see?

You see the person who you think is ugly,

But that is not the person that I see.

You see yourself from the inside out,

While I see you from the outside looking back.

I do not see your heart,

I see your whole,

And I assure you,

You are beautiful.

Filed under poetry inspirational beautiful mirror words love

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"Tick Tock"

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Looking at that clock of thine,

I realized how time did not fly.

I sit, I wait for ringing sound

Of tick and tock and ring and howl.

My classmates wait so eager to leave,

Ready to sprint at that loud Ring! Ring!

But still we sit, we wait for now.

The ticks, the tocks the only sound.

Filed under tick tock clock waiting poetry words

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"Hourglass"

With every grain of sand that drops

From the top to the bottom half,

A piece of my soul trickles down

And falls into a bottomless glass.

I fear that what I lose this time,

I will never yet gain again.

Unless, dear friends, I dive straight in

And take what is rightfully mine to have.

Filed under poetry hourglass time words inspirational

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"Patience"

Patience, the virtue,

Seems so easy in words.

Sit still, wait time,

Though things beckon

You to stir.

Silence is aware of time,

Though, it does not really care.

Have patience now,

For it will pass,

And leave in loud,

Boasting bursts.

Though silence may be

Tough at times,

You simply must

Know the trick.

Train your mind

To think and repent,

And perhaps to even forget.

Patience is a treasure chest

And contemplation is the key.

So, if you learn the trick

And master your mind,

You will be as rich

As the rich should be.

Filed under inspirational life lesson patience poetry silence words

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"The Man in the Moon"

The Man in the Moon

Is a face so familiar;

A frown at first,

A smile later.

But if watched

For many moments passed,

His eyes slightly shift,

His mouth stirs slow.

He speaks a forgotten language

Of wisdom filled words.

“Hear me!” he cries.

In a loud bellow he yells,

“You will have many loves,

And dream many dreams,

But keep in perspective

The true meaning of things.”

And with his departing words

Full in the air,

His face becomes a sliver

And then, poof!

Not there.

Filed under hannah raulston poetry inspirational man in the moon words

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"Better"

Sitting alone, isolated,

Reliving the game before.

Hearing voices

Screaming sharp, static words.

“Do better.

Be better.

Get. Better.”

They ring again and again,

Echoing, penetrating, breaking.

“Yes, Coach.

Thank you, Coach.

I’m working on it, Coach.”

My mistakes are the creators

Of the words that I despise:

“Do better.

Be better.

Get. Better.”

“Yes, Coach.

Thank you, Coach.

I’m working on it, Coach.”

The mumbled words

Are clear and definite to my ear.

I see the disappointment

Crawl along the brow.

Every “COME ON!”

Or distinguished harsh growl;

All the time it’s “Unacceptable!”

Soon followed by the always constant

“Do better.

Be better.

Get. Better.”

“Yes, Coach.

Thank you, Coach.

I’m working on it, Coach.”

Every time, pushed deeper,

Echoing louder,

Seeming clearer.

I soon think that “Better” is unattainable.

I think if I try and try

And still need to try harder,

I can never do better, be better, or get better.

Then I remember that I stepped up

In the time of need.

I could have just as easily

Hung my head and walk away.

I do my absolute best.

I become better each game.

I am getting better all the time.

I’ve come this far…

My legacy will not be forgotten!

Filed under better hannah raulston inspirational poetry words