About the Artist:
Hi everyone, welcome to Hyacinth Hale Poetry! I am a poet who focuses on freeform and narrative poetry. I encourage you to read my poetry aloud to your friends, your family, your lovers, and even yourself. Poetry is meant to be experienced through sight, sound, emotion, through yours and the author’s imagination. Please, browse through my collections of poetry at the top of the page, and scroll down the home page for feature poems. Feel free to discuss the poetry in the comment section. Thank you for coming on my journey and experiencing my poetry with me. Don’t forget to subscribe to the newsletter for the latest posts, poems and content below!
The Hyacinth Fields
The wind billows through the hyacinth fields as the bees make their rounds pollinating each and every bud. I arch my back stretching and taking in the view as I sit under a tree, and I feel the wind wisp my hair. I am most alive here. I am most myself. Life flows from the gentle tendrils of the hyacinth as the fog clears and the sun breaks ever so gently through the clouds. The hyacinth mothers nature caressing the hummingbird as it drinks the morning dew. I am amused by the sheer magnetism of the hyacinth; it attracts, it repels, it dances in the wind, a many colored dervish almost as if in prayerful and careful worship. The wind carries the sweet fragrance of the hyacinth, and it envelopes me. It reminds me of reading books in the shady hyacinth fields, reminds me that even the sweetest most sensuous of life’s bounties can also be poisonous. When I live, let me live with a hyacinth tucked behind my ear bold and delicate with unabashed beauty. When I love, let me love with hyacinth kisses soft and supple kissed over and over again like the bursting of its blooms in spring. May I never forget that love when winter comes. And when I am laid to waste, let me hold a singular hyacinth in my hands. A reminder that I am not of this world. That my decaying corpse is not the end. Let me live in the hyacinth fields where the wind billows and the fragrance flows and the hyacinth are a plenty! *1 This poem is inspired in part by T.S. Eliot's poem "The Wasteland" from The poetryfoundation.org, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47311/the-waste-land.
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Hickey
I begged to be marked just once,
For a mouth shaped bluish hue to appear just below my jawbone,
For a man to show the world I was his,
No man laid claim to me before,
No man ever cared to,
They would have their fill; or rather, they would fill me up with fantasies grander than my eyes could see; and then,
they would vanish as quickly as the time it takes for a seductive whisper to part a mouth, resound in the ear, and then dissipate into the ether,
No man ever took my desires into account before, so color me surprised, a pale white fading in and out of a pinkish red gradient, when the man who finally said yes told me no,
I asked him why and all he said was
“I would never disrespect you like that”,
That was the exact moment I was woefully aware of all the bruises left on me both physical and metaphorical, by the men in my past who still haunt me, lurking in the back of my mind as I look forward into the eyes of a man who has showed nothing but kindness,
Love and tenderness are his first and middle name, His last I am still deciding if I would take if he offered, I thought all I would need is a kind man someone different from the men I escaped, or rather who escaped me as I chased after the fear of loneliness wrapped up in societal obligations, I am learning I need so much more, and I no longer fear loneliness; but rather, I fear the yellowish hue of finger shackles binding me to a man forever that will not work as hard at loving me as I would for him
~ By Hyacinth Hale -
Collarbone
Your smile is intoxicating,
Genuine curiosity curled up in pleasure,
I get lost in your dark chestnut eyes,
As you scan my body, tracing my curves,
Plotting all the things you want to do to me,
You are insatiable yet disciplined,
Waiting for my permission,
Waiting for my invitation,
Waiting for my lips to part,
And my breath to catch
As your lips entangle in mind,
Eyes closed, your tongue slips inside my mouth massaging mine,
Your hands pull me in close by the small of my back until our hip touch, pressing,
Digging deeper inside,
I start to feel your penis pulsate,
Your hand rounds my ass, squeezing it,
Pulling me further onto your erect penis,
Your lips part mine, only to find their way Down my neck, sucking on my collarbone,
Your hands slide up to my breasts,
My nipples hardening at your sensual touch,
I groan in ecstasy as you leave me breathless,
Leaving a small bruise on my collarbone
Something to remember of our time together,
Something to finger late at night when I’m alone missing you,
And my hands wander finishing what we started
~ By Hyacinth Hale -
Falling for You
I’m falling, falling for you,
Dusted off my broken heart,
To give, give to you,
You told me I was safe,
Safe with you,
I heard it all before,
But somehow with you
It rings true
You saw my heart,
broke it’s hard candy shell,
Let my soul spill out
from my lips to your ears
You sat, sat right there,
In my pain without judgement,
And that’s why I’m falling,
Falling for you -
Pillow Fort Fortress (New Graphic Art Poem)
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Left Unanswered (New Graphic Art Version)
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Advice to Young People (New Graphic Art Version)
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Broken Vessel (New Graphic Art Poem)
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As My Body Heals (New Graphic Art Version)
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The Secrets We Keep (New Graphic Art Version)
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Free Will (New Graphic Art Version)
Hyacinth Hale Poetry 
Love it Ms. Hale!
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Thanks for the support! Let me know which poem drew you in the best!
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