Adalie Hettie

Adalie Hettie Poems

I hate the hate that resides in me now

I hate the hate that is so heavy it weighs me down
I hate the hate that keeps my emotions tightly wound

To Thine Own Self Be True?
I wonder if the lips that first released this really knew

It’s discerning to stand in the light transformed

Sleeping with my eyes wide open
Head bent low, now steadily walking
Inside this frame, sits a wistful daze
And many moments lost, but not forgotten

What could I write with a pen in hand?
My mind wants to wander, but my feet have not been.
Can the page be a place to reveal my picture?
A snap shot of thoughts orbiting vivid and clear.

Something tugs at my heart when I hear your song
For me it’s no more pretending, let it be known
I understand that you’ve been calling and I’ve wandered too far
Many mirrors were placed before me and yet the reflection I still ignored


I won’t let you down
Like so many times before
Take it, my word if it’s worth it
There is nothing here between us

Mellow mood Shoulders slouched Feet planted

Borrowing time the brain has granted.
Behind every corner, the Prickling Light,

Awareness was ripped from my conscious and thrust upon me.
It’s a blanket that covers my existence like the blackness covers the sea.

I alone, made the wrong choices
I alone, didn’t listen to those inner voices
I alone, went right when I should have went left
I alone, laid there and wept

Who is that man forcing my stare?
Behind those dark brown eyes I should be.
No more than a name and no more to me.
There, I can simmer in our unspoken words.

She sings about the struggle
It surrounds her, absorbs her
Like the color purple
She’s tired of thinking

I will keep this vessel shielded; no blood will be shed from your sharp tipped spear.

I’ve been running through my ages, blindly dodging despair.
True to me are treacherous thoughts that continually wander back there.

A place to let my mind wander
My thoughts flow freely
My body moves toward the trees
Listening to the autumn songs

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
And I often wonder how much of you is a part of me?
I vaguely remember what I saw.
Looking through little eyes,

This time it’s too late
The permanent markings are taking shape
I know it in my soul; I know it’s too late

If you could see me in death what would you say?
Was your life's devotions played out in vain?
I see your disappointment in the box where you lay.
I understand your pain from the picture that you portray

For never being real
I hide away.
The mind releases transparent slides; a life

Don’t say those things to me
I’m bent like blue fuzzy pipe cleaner
How did you think that would make me feel?
I thought that maybe you’d listen


Is there a certain art to war?
Moving piece by piece through each man’s quarrel-
Where will I find the blood soaked words?
Stains that tell the story of each soldiers’ sword.

It must be there,
Somewhere in the sand.
A simple wooden box
With a little silver key.

Adalie Hettie Biography

I was born and raised in Baton Rouge, LA. A few of my hobbies are photography(not professionally) , drawing, painting and poetry. I enjoy traveling and being open to learn new things. I have an insatiable thirst for knowledge. I like free spirits, hate labels. So, hello to all and I'm very happy to be here on this site. I look forward to reading others work and hope to make some new friends that I can share the love of poetry with.)

The Best Poem Of Adalie Hettie

The Hate That I Hate

I hate the hate that resides in me now

I hate the hate that is so heavy it weighs me down
I hate the hate that keeps my emotions tightly wound

I hate the hate that charges my wall
I hate the hate that lies to strengthen my fall

I hate the hate that has me in chains
I hate the hate that courses through my veins

I hate the hate that is a shadow at my side
I hate the hate that has stolen my mind

I hate the hate that blinds me from the stars
I hate the hate that has created my war

I hate the hate that has stolen my grace

My scarlet letter written all over my face

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