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Best Poems Written by Hilo Poet

Below are the all-time best Hilo Poet poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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123
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Critics

Critics

Wrote a poem in the sand,
Wonder how it fares if left alone,
Will it bear on its own merits
Or juxtapose by meddling hands,
Meantime, sun-dries it again,
Wind shifts it broad and thin,
Indelible puddles left by rain,
Sand critters pop out and in,
A boy and his ball rolls along,
With a long sigh, looks on down,
Builds a sandcastle then leaves,
Ebbtide gone, flood tide flows cleanly,
I returned, stood and discern,
Comme ci, comme ca, c'est la vie.

14th line English translated from French, "Like this, like that, that is life."

05/09/2019
*POTD*
~~Team PoetrySoup
*6th Place*
old poems, FREE VERSE (003)
~~Poet Destroyer A

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2019



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The Two Drivers In My Life

Image of Grandparents Country Home from my family collection
The Two Drivers In My Life In my younger years ... I got to know the souls of my parent's worlds, were as distant as our known solar system. Mom was advancing in the ways of God. Dad owned a thriving enterprise and, once held the Golden Gloves title, ... and he despised the church, may I mind you -- not God. This was during summer, after the row at home, we stayed with our maternal grand's in the country. Schooltime was nearing soon, but we did not know if we will attend the country school or move back home in town and go to the town school ... hmm? My birthday happens around that time of year and my parents had both come out to the country for this occasion. My granddad was a deacon for their country church. We had held my birthday party at the church hall. It's a Hawaiian church, hymnals, bibles, Sunday school books, and sermons were all done in Hawaiiana. As the party was winding down, we had put my gifts in mom's family Chevy. She drove us on to our grandparents home, just a bit of hippety-hop. We'd thought it's country school for all of us again, 'twas OK. Then all of a sudden, dad had driven up against our back and all my gifts packed up my mom's rear window, I was not able to see. I remember hugging and thanking him by the Chevy, for the gifts and the wondrous day spent, knowing he has his work tomorrow and mom will go teach kids music privately, then entertain tourist at the hotel nightly, nevertheless, dad rarely comes to the country home. He steps out of his new Camaro and told us who wants to ride home with me, and since I am the youngest of the brood, instinctively, I ran to sit in the back, until dad said, "Since it's your day, you sit in the front with dad." Then mom had interjected, saying, "Don't forget your things you may want to bring home." Well, as for me, I was good to go on home now. I'm glad about all the gifts I'd received that day, but for the life of me -- as I write this -- I cannot recall any of those said gifts that piled high in the back of a Chevy, or dad's Camaro other than its striking stripe on the front of the hood. Nothing had resonated inside of me, except for two drivers inside those cars, and even so, separate entities that they were, too steep in their own way's, however, for now, they had set aside their differences for me and that both of their hearts were as one again. Later, mom had established her churches, and as dad was nearing his call home, he had embraced mom's church. They were together again for their last years. O'er time, I had become a bit progressive, having a broader perspective of the old and new, a need for family values, love for each other, and keeping in touch always. Never forget I, of those who had loved me during those times, either driving separately, or riding together ..., I will always remember the both of them sharing the manual for drivers ... ~~The Word. Those moments, good and bad, shared an unwavering timeline, making its bond unbreakable. They were both necessary tools for growing up as both entities had emboldened me to be wiser, stronger, and to make better choices. As I journeyed along, coming to dead ends and freeways, side and main streets, U-turns and yields, eventually, I found my way home. I know that my parents and loved ones are all in my thoughts and in my heart as one. I strive to drive my life on the path of righteousness.
KJV John 14: 6 "Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." (Love) Aloha dad & mom, ke Akua pu (God bless you) ...
2021 June 14 *7th Place* A Tender Moment From Childhood ~~Malabika Ray Choudhury: Judged 2021 July 01

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2021

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Fear of the Unknown

Fear Of The Unknown

That sudden unknown, so unrevealing, 
it's the tell-tale trademark of the one in question 
as it sets off nerves in every-which-way, 
plainly creeping aimlessly neath our epidermis.

Shock-waves traipse, recruiting ghostly minions to crawl hither,
steeping the fleshy folds with squirming eels marinade,
forever slithering downward and chilling our brittle bones,
while simultaneously causing us to gnash our pearly whites.

Until we came upon the realization,
that what had truly manifested itself,
was a self-induced fear that was so absorbing,
it had overwhelmed the mind in consuming anxiety,
losing control of our mental faculties,
proffering it free-will to buildup theoretical obsessions,
and alternate concessions.

2019 November 25

*1st Place*

Goosebumps
~~Delilah Ventura

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2019

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Suicide Riposte

In midst of evading sounds and shadows Lurks the soulless in search of reasoning Whilst in the fullness, a youth bud still grows Yet heard less, seen less, and not be wanting. Death be heard, death be seen, what does it mean The dearly departed, was it so dear Having lived those years till age of nineteen And suicide caused the family smear. A precious life gone, was it worth the price For whilst that soul lived and was being ignored Gladly chooses a way, self-sacrifice A soul leaves behind a life as pictured. In midst of evading sounds and shadows Lurks the soulless in search of reasoning. Date: 06/24/2019 ***NOTE: I extend my appreciation to all soupers for choosing 'SUICIDE RIPOSTE' as your 2nd most FAVE poem, My Heartfelt Aloha, indeed!

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2019

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The Power of Silence

*Image of Silence Effects by Pixabay. the power of silence his soul yelled her heart screamed~telltale faces held a deafening silence 2022 October 04 *1st Place* The Power of Silence ~~JCB Brul: 2022 October 14 *HMS; 17 syllables.

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2022



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Fiery Events

*Image of Candlelight by Pixabay.
fiery events a candle flickers ever waning as it melts may love spark again? of course breath pleased a candle flames tuckered time for amour? nicely kindled set to spark 2021 July 10 e.g., Ni Katuata HMS & PS; 577, 577

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2021

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Monsters of the Sea

A contracted seafarer...concerning no servile rank, kept e'er involved watch...away from menial daily tasks top deck, while steadfast wary of...the diligent taskmaster's whip. A dawn swift gust...brushes the ship from a rocky pillar, duly rallies from rest...aids calamitous bellows from crow's nest, witnessed by crew...rose an angel disguised with devil horns. Seawater laps feverishly...against ship's wooden hull, as panic over breed minds...once sturdy legs go feebly about, cascading thoughts grips privately...every man for himself. Another abrupt action...frees a churning sea expounds, and an opening hole...devouring anything within its midst, as desperation consumes...a ship has long met its doom. A lone selfless soul of limited else...moved past the lost, and hastily clutched a burdened javelin...and hoist it upwards, with his petitioned combined strength...released the deadly blow. Her dying scream...was drowned out by restored happy voices, and a wealth of well-wishes and praises...honoring accolades, as lone eyes of a humble sort...gaze a siphoning pass.

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2020

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Mirror, In The Line Of Fire: POTW

''Reflection of two world faith's, they're [+ & -] for now, HAIL, the created who followed their rules, be 'change' in their faith that bear's silly nothings but rules & regs that [/'s not x's] = 'warmongers. Rumi kissed Grace = CHANGE" #3 GRACE Key Holders [-] & [+] Door Openers RUMI Mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore, lost toss and turns while hope waits for morning, gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door, Faults are the measures by those that implore, while patience corrects whose worth adds timing, mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore, The ins and outs of worth; toiling, --encore, a failed piece that favors one who's holding, gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door, Past pools plus and minus the ID's score, super balanced the pendulums swaying, mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore, Life game's unwinnable; Ace--Royal wars, snake eyes, don't pass go ..., directly singing, gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door, When they announce the winners on All Fours, be game change--their rules, your games to winning, mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore, gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door.

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2024

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Making Tea

It's styles of a nameless brand pristine day an exclusive star-sheathed shadow after overwhelming luminous glare fainted a somewhat true-to-life footpath in a back of structured quaintness Encountering myself at a passionate spring oozing its life gliding o'er its rocky bosom chasms sufficed with furtherance laden gifts of living courses tunneling down from motherly mountains snow-fed delight toppings by the Almighty everlasting tears of joyfulness A wooden bucket welcoming the shedding edges of joy tickling evanescence seized accumulates in remnants of an oak tree sacrifice to tender this righteous wink A pair of raw souls saunters off and atop between nature and humankind be its a causation of overgrowth naturing a devoted father beheld visions ere nights dreamt blueprints of a raised walkway that'll be free from the earth that nears and will muddle during rainy bits A wooden back door with its top half made of glass panes that are partway colorfully stained whereby venturesome peeks The Bachelor Sun that highlights a maiden placing a bucket filled with living waters atop its confident scaffolding Humming blends of a mild soprano that pleasures a coursing of an audience assembled of bestilled inanimate sightless to a wandering spirit ladling fine splashing of immersing waters in metallic holdings nearly drowns the voicing A kettle name changer makes its caring way to a blackened cast iron stove where it idles anticipating a fiery embrace an instants satisfaction appeals to exiting humming sounds opening and shutting a back door to calm Femineity graces a tree full of yellowish bitter orbs that scented stared intensity when lookovers are at play and the focus is The Merengue on meringue as reaching, tugs to pluck then an array of clay pots fresh minty clump spray is freed one A Welcome mat is stepped and scrubbed off as the inconsequential door is troubled to ignorance as it's reared-bumped so to soften its abrupt closing to skirts pleating as yellow and green eases on a sturdy wood nigh shiny sharpy's that's purposed A room goes barren of its occupant as a humming bestilled to quietude as the venue exchanges to the adjacent parlor reserved activity traces to age in a chair made of comforting wools as daintiness bows to a whisper "Dad, Mom will be home shortly and I making some tea and it will be ready soon then I will bring it in for us to enjoy and hopefully mom will be here okay I'll be back Dad" A man well in years staring blankly at a young woman that he smiles with no reasoning or purpose as absence seals the void of a parlor familiarity Humming restores the adjacent room to its reawakening delights to a mindful of self-amusement and resolve to attend the cool waters be first trends to a pleasing heat and safely transfer it from metal kettle to a porcelain fine teapot A wired mesh gets filled with dried Pekoe tea leaves that are carefully hung in a Royal Alberts Chinaware teapot as a toaster pop-up freshly heated wheat that is swiftly buttered on porcelain platters A car rounds a driveway and parks to ensuing car door sounding and footsteps That back door again becomes active "Baby girl where are you?" "I'm out in the backyard needing a final touch I'll be in shortly Mom" A back door closes rearing a Bachelor Sun shone it set its wedding ring to Solar beams in accommodating a most blessed occasioning A mother wheels in their mentor of love a daughter places a well-adorned tea settings of Royal Alberts Chinaware while Mom opens a store-bought Teacakes and put on saucers while her younger half still smiling pours orange tea that instant a Pekoe's redolence's a parlor and its occupants handheld loving prays Almighty a daughter a Mom a Dad ... He who dreamt a quaint structure a daughter a love mentor and Tea Time at The Jones

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2023

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Song of The Jaguar No 2: ABBA

Inspiring, crescendo ... the ascension,
of myth and legend as Yaguara,
or "Death in one leap" the sleek frame, Jaguar
as if it's from another dimension.
Leopards bit spotty, but Jaguars take
a rosette form, tell-tale signs like water
that natures them. As a jungle squatter,
prey, and time of hunt, don't discriminate
their mettle. Domains--mine alone; moms play
dads too, tongues play teeth too, cubs play adult
as hunt molds age. Overcast shades result
in a Black Panther coexist display.
Imperil: human expansion collide,
... imagine our continental divide.

Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2023

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry