The Secret Place – a poem.

The Secret Place

seek hidden within

slash this pang of misery

still the barren beast


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A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of ACHE and Ease.

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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

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Separate Ways, Same Destination – a poem.

Separate Ways, Same Destination

the fool does not see

there is ease in division

causing ache in all


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A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of ACHE and Ease.

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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

What is Time – a poem.

What is Time

years slip by, a haze

in a world filled with nonsense

is time… cure or curse


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of SLIP and Time.

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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

The Coward’s Way- a poem.

The Coward’s Way

the eagle plummets

as the dung rots in the sun

the craven blow smoke


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of BIRD and Blow.

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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Where the Wind Blows – a poem.

Where the Wind Blows

the bird feathers on

a journey set by the wind’s blow,

is the simplest path

 


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of BIRD and Blow.

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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Honing with Pain – a poem.

Honing with Pain

the truth has sharp teeth,

biting through the deepest pain,

life heals what life kills

 


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A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of BITE and Teeth.

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© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Changed – a poem.

Changed

rip, raw, torn, and bare

full of loathing and despair,

changed by loving care

 


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A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of BARE and Full.

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The Question – a poem.

The Question

a dark mind’s season

has never-ending self-doubt,

formed such rough visions

 


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A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of ROUGH and Season.

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© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Upside Down – a poem.

Upside Down

 

Been in disguise since I was twenty-five,

never knowing if I should live or die.

Always thinking this world left me alone,

feeling it deeply through blood and bone.

Needing answers with these decades of doubt,

reaching for a handhold before I shout.

Then I met a small Carolina town,

flipping this Southern boy’s world upside down.

So close it hurts can touch but not feel it,

thrown up obstacles I fight to not quit.

This mask is slipping, years I’m passing through,

with no doubts I’ll live now that I found you.

 

ronovan writes poetry black words on transparent background


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© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

my pleas…please. – a poem.

my pleas…please

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dreams obscene,

thoughts so wrong.

Things your wearing.

turn me on.

What do you think I, feel when I see ya?

I’ve been stupid shy, this I can’t deny.

What is this cold fear, waitin’ for the all-clear?

Praying for a leap year, so I can see…you…dear…

That sinful grin,

jeans so tight.

I love it when,

you walk just right.

 

Skin so smooth

hair feels nice,.

Those fingertips,

I’ll pay the price.

This fire inside of me, is fighting to be free.

It needs hotter degrees., please hear my pleas.

Fire deep inside…

of me.

I’m on my…

knees.

I’m begging…

please.

Please hear my pleas.

Please hear my pleas.

Please hear my pleas.

ronovan writes poetry black words on transparent background


Sometimes I just have to let it go.


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© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

brave your colors – a poem.

brave your colors

Separate roads spread, from shore to shore,

passing through towns, locked door after door.

Where once a neighborhood, or a community park,

now you will find are places filled with dark.

 

All shades, all hues, divide people from another,

but now they separate a sister from a brother.

Where once it was skin, and so it still is,

now it includes what politics is hers or his.

 

Red, blue, green, and more around the world.

In divisive times we must brave our flags unfurled.

 

No matter your age your religion or family,

in this great land, your thoughts are yours and they’re free.

What I fear most is we will fall to our enemy

where once there was democracy, there will be anarchy.

 

If you must battle through the generations,

fight right now for our nation’s foundations.

For tomorrow is not tomorrow, it’s in five, ten, or thirty years,

by standing up now the future will have fewer tears.

ronovan writes poetry black words on transparent background

 


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a haiku a poem

~*~

*

~*~

life flows with our doubt

regardless in joy or woe,

love can ebb the ache

~*~

*

~*~

 


A poem for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of EBB and Flow.

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hear me say – a poem – a letter – a message

It’s okay
What I’m saying
What I’m playing
That I’m praying
You think you know me and can show me

Hear me           Say

It’s okay
My mind’s relaying
It’s dismaying
It’s decaying
You think you know me, can control me

Here me           Say

It’s okay
I’m testifying
And I’m lying
And denying

And
And
And

It’s okay
I’m conveying
I’m portraying
And I’m fraying

And

It’s

Okay
I’m implying
And denying
And I’m dying
You think you know me, can console me

 

And
And
And
And

Is it okay
It’s diverting
to be inserting
and not be hurting

and
and

 

is it okay
i’m justifying

what you’re supplying

so preoccupying

death defying

dissatisfying

is it okay
that i pray

that i pray

that i pray

Poetry Lost Mind Image

© 2020 Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

You need to cry…to breathe. Men, I’m talking about us…you women too.

To the artificial us, the expected supposed to be, and to humanity begging to shine through, I give you one piece of advice. Cry. I began this thread of idea to speak to the men of the world and their need to cry, in order for them to release all the pent up fears, angers, humiliations, and confusions, but the audience later broadens to be all inclusive.

Through this release through crying we, as men, might avoid the catastrophes we inevitably create for ourselves. Catastrophes created by fear of failure, anger and humiliation leading to obstinance and inflexibility. Confusion of not knowing what to do with all these feelings we’ve been told and ingrained with not to let show, let alone to allow exist inside of us. Again, the fear of that confusion because if we have these sensitive thoughts, feelings, and reactions then people might think we are more woman than man.

But, as I thought of how men in society should support man to cry, I thought also of how women should let us cry as well. Then I realized that society doesn’t allow women to cry freely without judgement either. Crying is seen as weak. Crying by a man is often thought of as showing their feminine side, as though having a feminine side is a bad thing.

This led me to the thought of why we still refer to behaviors as feminine or masculine.

I believe crying and laughter are the two most powerful healing and coping mechanisms every person has available to them, and it’s free to do either. No prescription necessary or diagnosis required.

Just as men are seen as weak for crying, so to are women. I believe that view along with that about men has led to many wrong decisions in the 20th and 21st centuries that caused great losses. This is not just an opinion I have about the U.S. but one for all countries around the world. Some even worse than America itself.

Many of us have or will experience a life altering trauma. We’re afraid to admit it, afraid to show we are scared or hurting or completely lost. A good first step is to let yourself cry. It works. I speak from experience.

So to humanity, I once again say…cry, and cry often. But also remember to laugh just as much. It’s all about balance in ones life to have a good and healthy life.

Cry like a man?
Cry like a human.
Cry like a babe calling for the need of telling the world it needs relief of something.

Wash away the poisons of loss
of grief
of fear
of anger
of the loneliness of being you.

Cry from no one listening
of no one noticing
you are no longer the you they know or you recognize.

Cry…so you can then breathe…and laugh once again.

Outlasting?

Man in pain beside poem on right.

Stuck in a rut with no way out.

Opening my mouth but you can’t hear me shout.

Locked here in this world alone with my doubt.

Directions to safety keeps telling me to reroute.

My positivity has been my fingertip of hope.

Lately I’ve been sounding more like a garbage eating billy goat.

I keep slipping and sliding up and down a well traveled slope.

My plans so sabotaged I feel on the verge of a Virginia Woolf note.

The love for life counted down till it came.

And all those blissful imaginings… went up in a flame.

The clock hit zero and that pain I’ve held back…my brain is lame.

My mind limps and stumbles with fatigue and shame.

To change the world takes so much of your light.

You pull yourself up but find you haven’t enough fight.

You claw at limbs to see the white light.

Try as you may you just don’t have the might.

I still hang on to one thin strand.

Feeling the whole time that I wait on grains of sand.

My heart burns and it aches with each weak demand.

When I last close my eyes I hope to be in a new land.

My Escape.

I did not know you,

When you found me in the dark,

Seeking my escape.

 

When you least expect it, you will be rescued. During my darkest moments someone was there to take my hand, offer a kind word, and encourage me to become a human again. In the end that will be the beginning of something new and wonderful and I cannot wait until that day comes.

Dripping Melody.

Drip … drip … drip … drip … drip,

Sounds the cruel melody,

of the fatal heart.

Dripping Melody; Art and Haiku Poetry by Ronovan Hester



Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling by PS Bartlett and Ronovan Hester

Ronovan Hester is an author, with his debut historical adventure novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling due out in February 14, 2016. He shares his life through his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.com.

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Here-A Haiku and a message added. Please Read.

Oh for peace to be

Here among the clamoring,

I find loneliness.

Here a Haiku by Ronovan

Do you hear what he’s saying?



Ron_LWIRonovan is an author, and blogger who shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer though his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.WordPress.com.

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@RonovanWrites

 © Copyright-All rights reserved by RonovanWrites.wordpress.com 2015

This was written because of National Suicide Prevention Month. Thousands who die don’t die alone, they die around us. They call for help but we don’t know their language. Why? Because they’ve been made to feel as though there is something socially wrong and almost illegal about themselves. If they say they are depressed what happens to them? What happens at work? How does their family treat them or look at them? Do people ignore them with a “It’ll be alright.”?

For some of us we are lucky and have that one moment of clarity, that image that comes to our mind that pulls us back just in time. Not everyone has a boy “B”. Not everyone can be strong enough or maybe has fought for themselves hard enough to make it through. The above poem and image may not get the full effect I was going for, I may try again, but it tells you how we feel. All of the world around us, so close, so loud, but we feel all alone…and we don’t know why.

For some of you reading this, just think that you would never have met some great people if not for this blog. Perhaps a person has become very important to you that you met through a post or a challenge you found here.

Share this so people have an idea. We’re not crazy. But we are just out of step with something that will make us understand what is going on inside of us. And we call for help in different ways. Try to look, try to know your family, your friend. Know their language, in words, emotions, body. And when that language changes, find out why.

Live or Not At All.

No longer does the freedom of innocence reign childlike in our hearts.
Screams, horror, crashing, waiting, hoping, praying, all for naught.
For each that fell from the skies, so many more fell in the sands, the mountains.
The cycle continues in lessons unlearned in the history of man.

Do we not know the wages of want, and the evils of maddened men?
Be swift or be not at all, do or do not at all, leave no stone asleep.
Be not the meek of minded willinglessness that brings about the falling of lives.
Do or do not.

If you do, then do for all eternity, for those who receive will return in kind.
This day we turn our daily grievances to a past moment in time.
Fear or fear not.
Live, for you will one day live not at all.

Live or not at all a September 11 poem.

Much Respect-Much Love

Ronovan



Ron_LWIRonovan is an author, and blogger who shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer though his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.WordPress.com.

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@RonovanWrites

 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015

Losing it. What do I do?

There’s a saying that goes something like, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” For about two years I’ve kind of laughed at that phrase. For some of us, when something is gone we don’t even know what it was which means we don’t miss it.

I’ve been fine with it. I go through each day with a new loss flittering away and I feel fine. That’s because I don’t know what flitters away. Okay, so I know something is likely being lost. I’m aware that memories are lost.

Normally I don’t stress about it because stressing leads to other problems. Recently a memory loss, a huge one, became evident—with vigor.

I’ll explain an “other” problem for a moment. Depression. Well, I don’t know that it really needs to be explained. We all know what depression is. When a memory goes away and I then have people forcing that memory back in my head, or trying to get it back in there, things happen. The brain snaps. I actually at some point feel a pop in my head. I am sure it’s not really anything physical, only a psychological representation of what is happening.

When that happens, Ronovan is gone for a time.

My huge memory loss recently led to such a situation. I would think things were going fine, then wham, another hit from a different side. Lulled into things being okay. Wham, another hit. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Now, here I am, depressed, physically ill, and looking for the learning lesson of it all.

Memory problems make for a bad emotional entity. They also make for a bad relationship of any type. You wake up and you don’t know if that person who is your friend, spouse, significant other, father figure is still going to be that for you.

Who is it fair to in that situation? As I’ve been writing this I’ve been sorting through it all. I suppose the best thing is if it’s a repeat offender status thing, cut and run if the situation allows for it. I know live in family members can’t do that but there are things you can do.

Accept the memory loss person (MLP) for who they are, knowing what is possible.

Be supportive in the efforts of the MLP to handle it. Think for a moment about this. You wake up, or are even going along writing or watching a video and then—WHAM—you don’t know what day it is, or what city you are in, or who that person in the other room is. Ever wonder how a person handles that each day?

Think about being in the middle of a sentence and forgetting who it is across the table from you. In this age of internet and digital conversations and friendships it’s even more difficult to remember without those constant physical/visual cues.

People might find it surprising that I wake up and have forgotten the people in my house. Or I will go through one of those situations above. My body goes through a routine each morning and I discover what my problems are and I just go with it. I’ve told myself in letters not to stress, that I am normal. This is normal for me. I tell myself to begin to write something from a list of projects I’m working on.

Sometimes memories will come back or at least enough of a familiarity to make things fine or functionable. Yeah, another of my made up words.

What about the other person, the person forgotten?

What would I do if I were on the other end of this?

I honestly can’t answer that with an all encompassing solution. I think patience is part of it, understanding, and you know maybe even just cut and run. I know people balk at that last one but it is an option. But that is the option people will focus on here because it is seen as the uncaring, cold idea and how could I even think of telling someone to do that if a person cared about the MLP or of the MLP cares about the person.

I’ve been living with this for two years. You get to the point, where after having written about it, thought about it, and lived through it, you cut through it all to the heart or heartless of it all and give solutions.

And what about the MLP? Should they keep trying to remember, opening themselves up to an emotional tug-of-war to then either go through the loss again, perhaps not knowing it, or then being shut off once a connection is established again?

What do I do?

I have no one answer for myself. Perhaps I should, it would make my life easier. Can a person live a life, a healthy life mentally without people? I suppose they can but I’m not that far gone yet.

Now, for those who look at my writing and things I share each day and think I seem normal and I have all these friendships and all, the MLP has tricks they use to get by. Don’t call out the MLP for this if you still want to be a part of their life. At least they are trying.

I’ll tell you one trick I have. It’s called the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge. No, that’s not a plug for my challenge. I am telling you about a trick. There are people who do the challenge every week, and that means I read their work, usually at least twice, think about it, review it, see their names, and all of that every week. It doesn’t work for each person because of lack of regularity but when I see the name I know it’s familiar and once I get to their site things come back.

MLPs have sensory/emotional impressions of people if not actual memories. I know by a name, if it has been around me long enough, if that person is someone that is positive for me or negative, if that person is a friend or foe, if that person is emotionally good for me or a life drain.

When you hear that old saying about first impressions, it’s true. Make a good first impression and good last impression as well. You are asking, “How do I know when that last impression will be?” Whenever you leave the communication presence of someone, that’s your last impression until the next time you connect with them.

Well, this has been a longer message than I had planned, and I’m not sure if it is even what I had intended, but it is what it is and that’s all that it is. So, as I have just now read back through it, you might find it surprising I forgot about half of what I wrote while I was writing this. But again, it is what it is. I’m not to blame, you are not to blame, there is no blame.

Oh, I just remembered why I was writing this. Seriously. That big recent memory loss I had, like a mind wipe almost, took some important people away and broke things. Hmm, never mind. You know, I’ve tried. I think I will just deal with the depression of it all, come out the other side, and say I am what I am. It’s all I can be. Even if I don’t like it, I have to accept it or wind up on the 6 o’clock news.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

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