Reigns
deep love leads the heart
in an ever hopeful fate
melancholy reigns
his is my entry for this weeks Haiku Poetry Challenge DEEP and Woe.
There are details in the prompt on how to write a Haiku.
© 2014-2022- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
Dance of the Heart
each night the heart breaks
not knowing what new day brings
dance like it’s your last
This is my entry for this weeks Haiku Poetry Challenge BREAK and Dance.
There are details in the prompt on how to write a Haiku.
© 2014-2022- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
Spring Breaks the Heart
Swing and sway in the winds of change,
keep in time to heart’s imminent fray.
The air filled with spring’s sweet bouquet,
and love’s last fling a brief exchange.
These deep chest aches are not so strange,
nor daily sights of pain’s relief,
stealing the heart just as a thief.
Once more enter the fool’s cold dance,
wrapped in a mask of true romance.
Your guess this time of just how brief?
How to write an Espinela or Décima poem.
My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge NO. 50 (DANCE).
© 2021- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
Dear Me,
You will go through a lot of strange moments in your life. I’m not going to tell you what they are because I wouldn’t change anything that has made me who I am today, not even the bad moments. But I do have some advice.
There are so many times you will ALLOW others to bring you down. Your heart will break, be crushed. And that’s okay, I won’t tell you who by. Go ahead and fall in love. Love. Pour your heart into it. When things don’t turn out the way you like, don’t LET it almost destroy you. Use those moments to perhaps write. You want to be a writer but may not know it yet.
Always have hope. Keep it in mind that life exists tomorrow. All those disappointments have happened and are over. You make your future today. Love, work, life? All of those moments of trial and agony? Yes, you will feel it in the moment but don’t let it eat you alive to spiritual and emotional death.
But do experience those emotional moments, they will help you in the future to handle other moments. You will become someone who can understand others with the same moments in their lives. You will be able to help people and want to help them.
Love hard. Don’t go halfway. But take your time to know who you are about to love hard. And when you know its the right person, love hard in every way. Make that person know your love is a tangible thing that exists even when you are not in the room.
Loving hard might mean you fall hard and are broken had but the experience of love filling your heart, your soul, your entire being is worth every moment. Even if it’s for a day or a week, experience it. It’s worth every it.
That’s my advice today. Let those moments of agony go and use them to make you better and love hard with everything you’ve got.
Let’s connect.
https://twitter.com/RonovanWrites
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https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RonovanWrites/about
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
I wrote you letters on your doorstep in late December
Painted through thoughts pure and evergreen
Never knew they would be so briefly held to matter
Why are they memories that won’t escape me
You don’t want to know me
Do you even care
Are you even aware
Do you ever remember loving me
Does your mind dare
Does it go there
Does it ever remember knowing me
I spelled your name in the sky through my bedroom window
Never will I be able to look that way again
I try to write a letter so you will remember
Tears blur the words until I can’t see
My heart burns so
My chest tightens to know
Please, oh please come crucify me
Loving you is a matter of a contradiction
Do you know what that means
Please, oh please you crucify me
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
My plan for the week was, let me actually rephrase that, I wasn’t going to write a Haiku this week. In fact there was no plan for poetry at all in my foreseeable future. It’s not that I have given it up or don’t like poetry, it’s just something I am not feeling right now. I’m not a poetry mill. I’ve been there and done that.
Writing poetry, at least for me is about tapping into an honest place and sharing honest things that can be tender places in the heart that shouldn’t be touched. Even when I write a funny poem it doesn’t begin that way. It begins serious and turns humorous out of defense. Defending the tender places.
Some reading this are likely about to hurl. They don’t see how poetry is that big of a deal or how it can really be any more than a few words to rhyme about puppies, clouds and rainbows. True, some poetry is about those things, for that writer. Perhaps those things have meanings for them. I don’t know where the inspiration came from so I can’t say good or bad.
However, even though poetry was not in the heart for me this week, which is a requirement, even though I didn’t want to go there a friend expressed a hope I would write something for the challenge I host each week. How could I not write something when so many faithfully participate each week?
Do not fret, my heart,
While you beat slowly for now,
The chill of loss fades.
Much Respect
@RonovanWrites
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
I feel my lips
Upon
Your
Skin
Though you tell me
It’s
A
Sin
My heart keeps me
Going
There
My hands impassioned
In
Your
Hair
I can’t
Fight this
I don’t want to
You’re my
Heart beat
That brings me through
I feel your sighs
Within
My
Ear
Causing tremblings
That
You
Fear
Desires keep finding
Their
Way
Through
All my thoughts
Consumed
By
You
Don’t fight
Give in
We’re meant to be
Don’t my
Last breaths
Tell you what you are to me
I feel my lips
Upon
Your
Skin
My dreams
Keep drawing
Me
In
How can
You live
Without me
As I
Lie here
Dying more every day
Without you
Your lips upon my skin . . .
Ronovan
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2014
Forever in dreams,
I am awakened by you,
In final failure.
Ronovan~Writes~Poetry
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2014
What kind of love do men feel? I considered searching for opinions and comparing them to what I come up with, but then I decided that since I am writing this from a man’s perspective, specifically mine, that I would just go with my own thoughts. After all, I’ve been told in the past there isn’t a doubt about my being a man. I’ve always taken that as a compliment.
What love does a man feel? I could go into the various loves of sports and foods but I’m not doing that today. Instead I wanted to discuss the real things that pull, pound, and pulverize the heart. The kinds of love that when they don’t go right, leave you feeling like you have the worst flu any man can ever have.
This is about loves for a woman. This is about the loves that men don’t talk about. This about the loves men deny that have to their friends. But if you are a man and you say you’ve never had one of these loves, then . . . count yourself blessed or else have an exam done because you are in denial.
Men get those loves. Is there a level order of love? Men think much of order in things like this. I’m not sure why and I don’t really care to delve into the why. At this moment my heart is on loves. I often wonder when it isn’t.
I see no reason to not just say I as I write this. Why not say man or men? I’m speaking from what I know. I am sure other men feel or have felt what I might talk about, but this is me. As I begin this I have no plan. What you read will be whatever comes out of me as I go. Think of this as an open heart letter unedited.
My Loves: A Man’s Testimony of Heart
by: Ronovan
Love from afar. I know her but she’s out of reach. The thought of her for a moment makes the world lighter than air but then the aching heart begins. My mind quickly tells me the truth. I fight it. I don’t want to know the truth, I just want those moments of happiness, even if they are illusions and delusions. They only harm me. Why can I not enjoy them for a moment?
No One Can Understand
It’s my life to break, and I know what I can take
Too much every day, but I can’t seem to run away
I should know by now, there must be another way somehow
But I’m just the same, and I’ll always be to blame
I’m hopeless, hopeless for love,
No one can understand
What makes me this man
It always seems, that love is just a dream
No one can see me through, cause of the things that I do
Players play, and the bad boys are the way
But I don’t know the games, I just get burned by the flames
Why don’t I change, because this world seems so strange
I’m hopeless, hopeless for love
No one can understand
What make me this man
I walk the line, coming back time after time
No matter what the pain, no matter it drives me insane
They say loves not what I think, just pour up a drink
But I know what I know, and I just can’t seem to let go
I’m hopeless, hopeless for love
What makes me this man
I’m hopeless, love is in my sight
What makes me this man
I hold love with all my might
I’m hopeless
Hopeless for love
Yeah, I’m hopeless for love
(If you are thinking these seem like song lyrics, well if you know the song Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi get the tune in your head and read it again.)
2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com
What a wonderful story. It makes me wonder the source of the story. Is it just made up, the story of a daughter, friends, or did Nishi change the names to protect the tender hearted? You really must read this story and if your hear isn’t aching for the little girl by the end then you are heartless.
Much Admiration for This
Ronovan
“Ann and Florence BFFs forever”
Ann loved Florence..they went to school together, she shared the chewy brown sugar cookies and peanut butter sandwiches her mother used to lovingly pack for her with Florence. Everyday after school she would reserve a seat on the bus for Florence so they could sit together on the way home back from school and all this while they would chat and laugh..They were only in the first grade but they had so much to say to each other..Little girls learn the art of gossip pretty early so that by the time they are adults they become expert architects of the grapevine. Once home Ann would do her homework, watch TV have her dinner and go to bed all the while looking forward to meeting her best friend in school.
Night gave way to morning and Ann woke up to yet another school day. The first…
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