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Best Hope Against Hope Poems | Poetry

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The Best Hope Against Hope Poems

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August Twenty Eight

I get up at eight
With hope after hope 
Live those lovely moments
Of Spring time mornings
To start a new mindful day
And leave:
The feeling of her eyelash movements in my mind
The fact of true passion emerging beside
The first letter of the word we have defined
And the freedom of our white clouds driven by wind 

And at night, the first moment of every night,
I slip deep through the fragrance of my room
Without any will to light up another candle!

But today
I woke up too late
With hope against hope
Facing this heavy moment
Of an Autumnal morning
To end an old mindless day
And wait:
The feeling of her eye shadow reflections in my mind
The fact of true imaginations left behind
The last letter of a word we had declined
And a broken grey cloud driven by wind

And at night, the last moment of this night
I slip deep through the darkness of my room
Without any will to light up another candle!

Copyright © Bassam Aljasem | Year Posted 2006

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My Father And a Ray of Hope

With a huge geometry of bones and ribs
my father stands amidst us,
like an age-old iron pillar,
high durable, tensile and unbrittle
he is, the lonesome cantilever.

Though I know not,
perhaps he could be in immense pain,
or suffering from his terrible wounds;
but neither I feel nor touch
as I fear;
may be I his last crutch
or be the solve of sandal paste
on this body for ever.

Though I know nothing,
perhaps, for the sake of ‘oil and salt’ world;
he’d be even ready
to sleep on the bed of thousand arrows
and at the same time
he hides every sensitive worldly elements 
within him, as far as
a star fish does every time
when it comes across a danger.

And always, I cannot move over
to his world of desires,
it’s the same show
the same grief
day after day.

The foot prints of his journey through life
are not lost in the sand storms of poverty
and in my mind as well.
Like the third bank of ever flowing river
Like a lonely Oar of way lost solitary boat
Like a distant star in the dark sky
Like a defiant soldier in battlefield 
My father-
with dry tears and black blood
in his toil and lethal hands
continues his combat fight
against treacherous time
and treadle fate.

And with a twingle of hope against hope,
I feel every odds of life
and promise to myself a thousand times
‘I can be a nearby dawn
to remove the everlasting dark night’,
as  my thoughts don’t go
with the distanced sun.

Copyright © Neelamani Sutar | Year Posted 2015

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Letting Go

How do you know when it's time to let go?
Should you call it a day, with nothing to show?
The love that you felt is still burning within.
Its flame flickers brightly, not wanting to end.

When only one heart is feeling that glow
You know that in time the other will go...
For no matter how much or how deeply you care,
You can't force a heart to stay with you there.

There…in that place where a fairy tale dwells,
Where fairy godmothers still cast lovers' spells,
Once upon a time two hearts were as one
And the love deep inside shone as bright as the sun.

But as time passes by, it seems some things change,
What once seemed so beautiful now seems so strange!
One moment you look in his eyes and you see,
Happily ever after is not meant to be.

What is it that makes only one heart feel love?
You look for the answer from God up above.
You hope against hope that an answer you'll hear,
But no answer is coming, just sadness and fear.

A part of you already knows it's the end,
But your heart and your mind just don't comprehend
How something so wonderful just fades away,
Like the colors of sunset in each passing day.

The dawn of each day brought a smile to my face,
By waking each morn to my lover's embrace.
Our two hearts once hoped that true love had begun,
But what good is love that is just felt by one?

Would I want him to stay with me, though in the end
He'd never be happy, you can't just pretend
To love someone when the feeling's not there.
So the answer is NO; and you try to prepare

For what you now know is going to be…
Sooner or later you must set him free.
You try to hold on to the love that you knew
But it slips through your fingers, so what can you do?

They say there are some things just not meant to be,
And in time we will know what our hearts couldn't see.
You beg, you plead, you curse, then… you cry.
But the only real answer is always GOODBYE. 

Copyright © Cathy Martin | Year Posted 2011

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Struggle and Strife

Both space and time cannot destroy
     us, or force us to shed a tear
against our lives' approaching joy.
     Can these struggles dissolve what's dear
to our joined souls and make us coy
     about a bliss that's nearly here?

We--survivors!--hope against hope
     and love against war and bitter strife;
together, we struggle and cope.
     We live and die with so little life
or peace against this world's cold scope
     as if on the edge of God's knife!

Would it be easier to die,
     to quit--to cease and never give
ourselves the means of knowing why?
     Death comes to those who never live
or know, but just watch life passes by;--
     it's a peril we must survive!

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014

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We're the worthless one
The world has no place for us
Street is our business
Under bridges is our palace
Palace of laziness
Addressed and mocked by the privileged
We were name without ceremony
Wayward, beggars, lunatic, fool…
Yet they can do without us
We are less privileged but we’re not less important
The fortunate are fortune in chain
Newspapers bear witness of untold wealth
We are materially deformed not mentally deformed
We are agree to be poor for them to be rich 
The just shall judge the unjust

There is hope against hope
Our mouth, hand, brain are fertile
There is a hidden talent therein
We are judged by what they see
We worth more than their foresight
Amidst us talent has buttered our bread
Akon, African China, Wande Coal, are our testimonies
At all state we are vital
Poor state we protect their life at our expense
Our talents graze their occasion
 We are not worth-less
We are king in the palace of laziness yet busy to entertain 
We are beggars yet command your blessing
You need us more than your worth

Copyright © OBIAJE PETER EDIGAH | Year Posted 2014

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Stolen Kiss

Blood red lipstick etched on the 
rim of a glass 
Long sought after soft red 
succulent lips
Hope against hope it might 
actually happen at last
Face firmly clasped by long red  
manicured tips. 

A sudden probing prompts an 
involuntary gasp 
Tongue thick with a coat of  
cigarettes and scotch
A promise of sensuous 
pleasure not known in the past
Two mouths locked in the 
throes of a sealed vacuumed 

Warm, wet, experienced, so 
this is a real grown up kiss
Taken not given, hold tight, go 
along for the ride
A soft playful bite prompts a 
reflex twitch of the hips
A tight rope over the naughty 
and nice divide. 

Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014

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Low spirits and utter despair,
She had lost all her flair,
Time stagnated !

How long could the wait last,
Dejected heart to the full to blast,
Incurable hopeless !

Sun could not shadow gloominess,
Her very being deprived of happiness,
Hope against hope !

The injury quite a deep and severe,
His vengeance extremely clear,
The wretchedness !

Don't suppress else will depress,
Just look beyond there's life,
End up melancholy, live to strife,
Shun sadness !

No recession can everlast,
Essential to counter depression is,
Slam your passion !
Be sassy and warble !!

Written on 30/5/14
Contest- slamming battle round -2 ( my highs my lows)
Sponsor- Verlena S Walker

Awarded 3rd place

Now for contest- Any old poem will do #2
Sponsor- SKAT A

Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2014

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Luck is a sham
Created by those
Who hope against hope
That our dreams will come true
But accomplishing is created by doing
And wishes and wants
Are unobtainable if made just so
Wishes and wants

Do you remember a time
When we got up
And changed the world for the better
Because I don't
I remember people on the news
Talking about hunger and homes lost
But never a solution for it 

Now we rip the feet off rabbits
Expecting it to do us good
And horseshoes
And three leaf clovers
And pennies
All worshiped without question

Relying on luck
Like Dorothy did the Wizard of Oz
But he was a fake, too
And this time
We can't click our heels three times
Waiting for our problems to be solved
Because this time
There's no magic or luck on our side
Just us

Copyright © Savannah Trudeau | Year Posted 2016

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Spring is here

Amazed to see
how the spring breeze
rejuvenates everything....
Life flourishes out of dead...
Fills me with enthusiasm
and gives me too 
a new lease of life.....
Out of the yellow
the green appears...
Out of the desolation
the flowers bloom....
With the melting snow
life seeps into the ground...
Spring is in the air!!!
Spring is here!!!
Hope against hope
I hope that spring
comes to dead hearts too...
Out of the hatred
love appears
Out of the desperation 
Hope prevails
From the melting hearts
our soul flourishes
So that we can say
Spring is in our hearts
Spring is in the air!!!
Spring is here!!!

Copyright © Irfana Ali Bhat | Year Posted 2012

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Little Angels of Chibok

I send the busy bee my eyeful messenger
Buzzing and searching in the forests of Chibok
But not a sign of little angels of Chibok anywhere
Little angels of Chibok talk to me, where are you?
The Harmattan that whispers in the leaves
The rooster that crows to wake the world
Thump my heart with undying sweet hopes
Little angels of Chibok a sign for me, where are you?

When the sun flashes its rays through wall cracks
And the moon raises her right hand in the horizon
I see tongues of hope of your due home-coming
Little angels of Chibok, is this a dream or a reality?

My soul is like Sahel burning bush- fire on a wild tour
There is no resting place for my soul in Nigeria
When I recall your cutting smiles and piercing eyes
Little angels of Chibok, what to do with this undying love?

Your dinner chair is vacant at home every meal
Your desk is empty in examination room in Chibok
Your playmates are waiting eagerly at Chibok
Little angels of Chibok tell me in a dream, where are you?

Yes; with eyes full of tears of hope against hope
The heart fresh with life like new leaf peeping from a stem
I close my eyes and see you tearing bushes coming home 
For the God who created you for a reason is not asleep

Copyright © Solomon Ochwo-Oburu | Year Posted 2016

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(for Manoranjan Byapari, a rickshaw puller  who writes Bangla novels, stories and autobiography)
--Jaydeep Sarangi

You may dismiss all I record here
                    Stop! Please don’t ignore them as junk...
                     Here it goes....Hope you hear me....
                    You will hear me one day, sure!
                     You can never hide your face, Priyotosh.
                   We’ll get you in streets and lanes
                    Of this incredible city of joy.
Long struggles 
demystified Byapari of false tags 
of the caste-ridden  society 
beauty in the working class,
cooperation among the have-nots, 
humanism among rebels, 
simplicity among outcastes.

Byapari drinks them all.....
he salvages various concepts
from the hasty derogatory labels of the privileged, 
and makes the understanding concepts
more complete and realistic. 

We remain 
as hands folded in inaction;
prisoners outside jail.
Lectures move electorate in a civil society
Justice cries in a caged cell.

Byapari writes a new history
as Shankha Ghosh recommends
his books for Bangla readers, 
only Hope against Hope.
Artists are legislators of the world!
let there be enough crackers to celebrate 
it further
under an alien sky.

There is hardly anything ‘complete in completeness’.

 (Shankha Ghosh is a Bengali Indian poet and critic.He released Byapari’s book, “Amanushik” and spoke for Manoranjan Byapari on the 27th August,2013 in an evening gathering in Kolkata)

Copyright © jaydeep Sarangi | Year Posted 2015

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The Dark Side of Love

The obsession born of forbidden desire,
Just as powerful as pure love, but more dangerous
Than any other force on earth.

Is that why you cannot keep away from me?
Does the power of your desire
Hold you prisoner against your own will?
And how am I to respond?
Should I welcome you and risk annihilation
Or should I fight you?
I wonder now if I even have a choice.
I feel so powerless against the hunger I see in your eyes
That I can do nothing but succumb to your every wish
And hope against hope that you and I can be together
Without seeing my own heart ripped to shreds on the floor.

Copyright © Elizabeth Agiantritis | Year Posted 2015

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Hope is too wide to imagine

Good enough to comprehend

Sweet enough to desire

And just enough to go against

It is always hope against hope...

Copyright © Ediruma Edward Eric | Year Posted 2013

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Super budgie

Blue bird in a gilded cage:

But not as much as a single whistle from it,

and no piping, not even a proverbial peep,

only deafening silence from behind the bars.

To get the little blue beast to sing!

One plays it a symphony by Dvorak:

Nothing. There's only silence from the bird.

One plays the budgie some Smetana:

Again, nothing but silence from within the cage.

Beethoven then.  Surely the Master's music

will get this avian singing again.

Alas, it's all to no avail.  One only gets blank stares from the bird.

But, it's time for one last try, hope against hope: 

One plays the feathery, captive foil

the Jimi Hendrix Experience, plays their "Still Raining, Still Dreaming":

The budgie suddenly chirps out loud in Martian:

Whistles songs from very far away, yet from very, very near,

and at one and the same time:

Sings, fluting, songs from Everywhere, songs from Nowhere,

songs without limits, ones without an end,

songs sang backwards and forwards at once,

faster than the speed of sound.

Copyright © Gary Onderisin | Year Posted 2017

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She, the One From the Cerulean Sea

When summer left its legacy
Arrived autumn with its warm flare
From cerulean seas came she
A lilac in her sea-breezed hair
And burst in utter joy my heart
Knowing fore’er we can’t depart
Though hard to practice love’s own art
Love with her still yearned I to share
When blossomed fruits again, spring drew
I walked near dark poppies with she
And sang sweetly the doves that flew
In lovely hymns of euphony
And hope against hope with the breeze
Our love will start with steady ease
And luckily it will ne’er cease:
I loving her, her loving me
Though in mere moments, quick, met we
A feel I have our love will stay
And sat we in serenity
By ponds where misty dusk there lay
And looked I at her face upon
As gentle as the setting sun
And hopefully be us as one
Though be we young or withered gray
And suddenly drew I most close
And gently placed my arm round she
And as I did, our free hearts rose
She turned around to look at me
And as set the gold sun below
Suddenly then and now I know
Our love appears to be true, so
Forever I will stay with she
The one who came from the Cerulean Sea
Solely for me and only me

© 2013 Gleb Zavlanov

Copyright © Gleb Zavlanov | Year Posted 2013

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Just as a dry seed dropped on the ground sprouts forth new life so is hope against hope for every one out there living on the water-less grounds day dreaming about their fate and embracing promises that they themselves can on no account make.
The road we are walking will as well be walked by our sons and daughters even after we have left. The only preliminary prerequisite that will give them a precise guide lies in the legacy we craft and this is dependent of headship the code of gentle gentlemen.
Good leaders are servant leaders who live indelible red marks of integrity by serving among their subordinates to make successors just like them and not like their counterparts who tally in making more subjects, call them followers.
 Noting laudable of which leaders are both born and made though all are subject to training for preparation into potential best – elements of change. However blessed one may be they must undergo the stages of humanity just like nature approves of it that for a child to grow up into a young adult they must first crawl and so are leaders. They must be taught by the elderly experienced persons from whom they glean knowledge on how to begin other stories from the end of one but of the same kind.
Old dogs don’t learn no new tricks mellifluously go the old school slogan, so it is higher time we started influencing others as is the vivid definition of leadership at this tender moment of renaissance   of our undying tomorrow since  it is never too late the hero.
                 We are all leaders and that we shall remain…

Copyright © Ediruma Edward Eric | Year Posted 2017

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Keep Your Feet

Life can deal you a bad hand
You can easily miss the beat of the band
But you can always change it around
If you keep your feet on the ground

You can hope against hope someone will change
Or that the order of thing you can rearrange
Maybe you can change things around
If you keep your feet on ground

You can never walk on water no matter how hard you try
Sometimes life will kick you and make you want to cry
But you may just turn it around
If you keep your feet on the ground

Finally you just might like to know
All the above problems don’t have to be so
For you can always change things around
Just by keeping your feet on the ground

Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2015

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I am waiting for my universe,
and I, to be your moon,
orbiting you to bring light
to your darkness,
peace to your war,
and love to your loss.
It is hope against hope
that my rains bring growth,
a joy to life,
like the sun shining down to dry
the river of the tears I
have shed for not knowing you.
It is with faith
I kneel and pray
that maybe one day
Goddess will answer...
and the silence will end.
Until then
is all I have left…
something I know
I need to learn.
My love and loyalty
lie hand in hand,
as you and I will someday do.

Copyright © Alaska Brant | Year Posted 2015

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Perceiving the Un-perceiving

Hope is a hope, hope against hope, keeping us to Hope
On and on and on, for the things that make us go On
Perceiving and perceiving the un-certainty of un-Perceiving
Earthly art form: breathe of a life, of which is Earthly

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

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Satan's Truth

I am feeling distressed by my feelings of late,
There are people I love who seem poisoned by hate,
People I know are smart, willful Science deniers,
Call truth (they don't want to hear), "fake news" at best,
Set themselves up as experts and social outliers,
Deny any voice that’s outside 'comfort test,'
Hear them TRUMPet, 'right,' 'wrong' is in fact just “world view,”
And if you don’t agree then you’re missing a screw!

It’s deniers of 'Truth' I find saddens me most,
For this simple act puts human mind into 'coast,'
It seems slippery slope, anarchistic descent where
Discussions aren’t possible, good will’s intent
Largely absent, when logic itself is a fool’s dare!
They've one social grace that says “I am content
And I don't see a need to put my mind in play
For I ‘know’ in advance, you have nothing to say!”

I’ve one science trained friend who claims climate news fake
(When predictions reveal that an answer’s mistake!)
But the truth is results like this make Science better,
Best Science, a model, that’s always refined!
Duped Republicans claim to know truth to the letter,
A lemming like flock all in love with group mind!
But the problem for them they refuse to decry,
If THEIR FAITH is misplaced, we can kiss *** goodbye!

If one Science trained man is so foolish as this,
Can the unblessed be blamed if they hope Trump brings bliss?
The desire for simplicity makes men hate others,
While groveling pitch tents in camps of the rich,
They deny FATHER’S FAITH that says “All men are brothers!”
And hope against hope they can scratch Donald’s itch!
It seems clear that most men do the best that THEY can,
Just to Hell with their children and future of man!

Long Tooth
August 11, 2017

Copyright © Roof Missing | Year Posted 2017

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Hope Against Hope

I yield to unknown sound
Rhythm that blossom my heart 
Swing arm with tangle legs
Accelerating directly proportional to the echo
My head ache as it beat twice as rock tempo
I perceived peril ahead
Roaring of lion nature in humanity
Seeking for whom to devour
I am a prey without rescuer
Fears grab me as the thought of u-turn occupied my heart
Standing at Y junction
To my right a kingdom await me yet the road is daredevil
 My Left preaches infatuation
I devour all obstacles at the right to visit the kingdom
I hope against hope as I journey through
Behold the torment vanish quickly
My eyes behold beauty this kingdom in extraordinary manner
 Finally I saw Him seating on thrown and my love seating at His right hand
'Welcome to come' He said
I sang praises unto my love
Finally I am home

Copyright © OBIAJE PETER EDIGAH | Year Posted 2017

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Under the oak tree we lay awake waiting for the coming messiah

Waiting for the good time of his government

We are tormented and suppressed all day long with no cause.

And our body bore our pains

Men of agony, the voiceless.

Trapped in the strange land of misery, 

Hope against hope for the messiah to emerge

Spirit of our ancestors hunt us, 

Because they thirst for blood; 

Of which blood shall we use when cowries for goat could be found? 

Springs ceased in our entries and, the oceans howl in despair to our presence.


The voiceless men, rejected and abandoned

Entangled in the misery of the leaders, 

Echoes of mercy heard in the vacuum and, 

Songs of sorrow sang by the birds in their response to our sufferings

We are cheated with no access to talk and the society hear us not rather they exploit our efforts.

Men of Nkporo became worthless to them.

 What could be our weapon of war? 

We are killed all day long and, our stomach spoke harshly to us.

Our eyes very dime; night and day.

And we succumb to their threats, voiceless men of nkporo.

Born without a silver spoon but wisdom in the head.

Wisdom never used to impart to their offsprings.




 Our egos dashed out with the winds and our wives exploited by the rich.

Our houses taken away with strong will and our children enslaved in the darkness

Who shall speak for us all, the voiced? 

The coming messiah assured us mercy but who knows his coming? 

The animals on the flying chairs laughed at us.

Perhaps, they know the future.

Maybe they have spoken with the messiah against us.


I know, overly thrilled as I was that I would not call. Their works had done more than enough.

In the city, our kinds are seen roaming about in nakedness

Humiliated and battered.

But I wear courage like a shield to speak against discrimination.

As long as there is life, they believed in hope in days to come.

It shall be well.

Can you see how she runs? 

Running to the lion’s den.

What has she done?  Nothing but spoke her mind.

Court holds her guilty, guilty of treachery and outspoken.

It embodied me not to find my voice, but to speak in voice I already had.



We pray for the messiah’s time

Time of peace and freedom, 

When things shall be well again with us

And our kind shall be heard in high voices

Our children shall also be free from the sneer of the Fowler

And our wife shall know their offspring and husbands

 Those who exploit us shall be punished upon their throne.

Mercy shall not prevail because they have tortured us so much.


Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014

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The Art Of Talking Is Another Name Of Poetry

The art of talking 

If you want to talk 
And in the process want to learn the art of talking 
Then you are requested to sit down beside me 
One more request to you 
Please do not take me as sage 
I will not take you either 
Sages are all known people 
If they are not fool then they are misinformed about all things 
They are confident enough on what concerns about life 
Because they misunderstand a lot 
Precondition of our talk is we will not misunderstand each other 
Let alone life 
Our talk will continue 
And under no circumstances our views will ever merge 
Like the tracks of railways they will be parallel
And like trains they will move fast

During talks if you able to correct me what i 
Believe is wrong with evidence 
I will not hesitate to salute you and 
And without showing arrogance immediately I will change 
As changing is permanent and 
Change does not harm any one of us 
And hope, you will not harm yourself either 
With self cheating and self deception 
And get defeat to ignorance 
Ignorance is our worst enemy  lets shoot at it. 

Poetry can be written in the ways 
You wish to any one by or with 
Fixed are no rules though imagery is one 
Yet he dullard experts say 
But if you can go without them or violating the proscription 
Special credit will be found waiting for your creation 
Except some understudied none will doubt.

Reverse is the case with a song 
Sing it with your deepest sadness 
At the end you are bound to get the highest kind of delight.

Take care with no stopping of my blessing 
But I have to stop as I need now to go 
Hope against hope I wish we would meet soon. 

Copyright © wahab abdul | Year Posted 2016

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Never cease To Hope

                                                                                                                                      When I was young with so few cares and little if any responsibilities;                                                                  when life for me was simple as parents cared and looked out for me;
when playing ball, or shooting marbles, or rolling tires, were my highest priorities; when misbehaving was against the rule, but being good wasn't the easiest thing to be.

When I hoped for equality when no kids my age would have to labor in the hot sun working hard in the fields 10 hours per day beginning at 6 in the morning. And my next best hope was when I hoped that it would rain a lot to keep us kids from working in the fields; when I hoped that it would snow or the roads got icy to keep us out of school. When I hoped that daddy would never catch my brother and me fighting, because both of us would be punished due to the fact that with daddy it never mattered who was bigger or smaller, older or younger, weaker or stronger, right or wrong. When I hoped that time would catch hold of something really fast and make me grown, because although there was no place like home, I wanted to be gone and make a better one.

When all these hopes and wishes kept piling up inside of me;  in time, little by little, they started to become reality at the pace of snails.  These hopes and dreams and wishes and longings were and are inside of me with more added each day; and I believe that hope is a longing and aspiration born in heaven, not on the earth.  Hope is a 'God Thing' carved within us as an anchor to our souls.

I believe that one is lost without hope, because there is no substitute for hope.                                                     I believe that hope is plentiful and needs neither measurements nor calculations for its reality. I believe that there is always enough hope to go around so no one needs to be void of it. There's hope for me and for you. There's hope against hope and hope for the hopeless. May we never stop seeking and searching, knocking and praying, believing and hoping.
11132017 PS Contest, Choose Your Topic: Hope, Russel Sivey; I chose the topic of 'Hope'

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017

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Our craft are but                                                        
Two dust specks to reach
Into trackless black void
Almost out of energy                                                                 
Almost out of hope, each
Directionless in the vacuous space
Where? Where are you?

Limitless loneliness to port
Endless emptiness to starboard
Below  the darkness of hell
Above only empty heavens.
No guide,  no pilot to show the way
To hope against hope.
Two specks of dust in the cosmos
Drifting endlessly.
No star to steer by
No sign ahead, no track behind
Each alone  and helpless
Where? Where are you?

God will not help it seems
Lost in this hell of emptiness.
Is that your signal light ahead of me 
A tiny speck in the far distance 
Fifty light years ahead -
Among all the stars,
Temporary beacons,
Some long dead, some only ghosts?
Where  are you? Where are you?

Closer and closer  -
Is it another false flickering light,
Another  illusion of  harbour?
A trick to wreck my craft?
Another maelstrom to sicken me?
Closer it comes, maybe….
This is no star, but a planet, 
A wanderer  like me
With a brighter, steadier light
Yes,  a signal of recognition
Found  against all the odds:
A smile,  a wave -
At last - it’s you.

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2010