amy-fres - Hello Poetry

*Life’s like a beautiful painting When you hold the color palette And you have the urge to be a painter Apply the beautiful colors To create the most attractive painting Brush away the blues Put more colors of love Mix the colors to get the desired hue Let the canvas remind How beautiful a painter you are*

0

amy-fres

Mar 2, 2015

Mar 2, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC

amitav

Life’s Paintings

*Life’s like a beautiful painting When you hold the color palette And you have the urge to be a painter Apply the beautiful colors To create the most attractive painting Brush away the blues Put more colors of love Mix the colors to get the desired hue Let the canvas remind How beautiful a painter you are*

10

You're asleep, but I'm having a little fantasy. We are going to Paris (of course) and we just decided to go. No planning, no serious packing. Just got our stuff together and went for a few days. We fly through the night, and I wake up with my head on your shoulder (like Gordo and Lizzie) and we eat plane breakfast (which for some reason involves sausage links and orange juice in this little dream) and land at Charles de Gaulle at 10 AM. We get off the plane and go find our hotel, which is kind of far from the heart of the city but we like it cause that's where the really cute eclectic apartments and shops are. And you buy me red roses that night and every day we take long walks all over the place. We do touristy stuff while we are there, and you take me to all of the places you went to with your family and we even play soccer in front of the Eiffel Tower one night, for your old times sake. But mostly we make love a few times a day and go get beautiful meals and I speak French to the waiters and you think it's **** We go to a little bakery down the street from us every morning and night and just have an obscene amount of baguettes in our room. We sleep with all of the windows open (it's summer) and the light of the Eiffel Tower is visible at night, far off in the distance. Some nights, we make love on the balcony of the hotel and then just talk forever, and I'm so perfectly happy there in your arms on the balcony of our little quaint hotel in Paris just for the hell of it. And I'm so ******* glad you're there with me, even if it's just in my head.

0

amy-fres

Feb 9, 2015

Feb 9, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC

Gabrielle-sabrino

Where the Heart Is

You're asleep, but I'm having a little fantasy. We are going to Paris (of course) and we just decided to go. No planning, no serious packing. Just got our stuff together and went for a few days. We fly through the night, and I wake up with my head on your shoulder (like Gordo and Lizzie) and we eat plane breakfast (which for some reason involves sausage links and orange juice in this little dream) and land at Charles de Gaulle at 10 AM. We get off the plane and go find our hotel, which is kind of far from the heart of the city but we like it cause that's where the really cute eclectic apartments and shops are. And you buy me red roses that night and every day we take long walks all over the place. We do touristy stuff while we are there, and you take me to all of the places you went to with your family and we even play soccer in front of the Eiffel Tower one night, for your old times sake. But mostly we make love a few times a day and go get beautiful meals and I speak French to the waiters and you think it's **** We go to a little bakery down the street from us every morning and night and just have an obscene amount of baguettes in our room. We sleep with all of the windows open (it's summer) and the light of the Eiffel Tower is visible at night, far off in the distance. Some nights, we make love on the balcony of the hotel and then just talk forever, and I'm so perfectly happy there in your arms on the balcony of our little quaint hotel in Paris just for the hell of it. And I'm so ******* glad you're there with me, even if it's just in my head.

7

I was never a poet until i looked into your eyes and saw the sun rise.

0

amy-fres

Feb 4, 2015

Feb 4, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC

derek-wings

I was never a poet

I was never a poet until i looked into your eyes and saw the sun rise.

3

I AM THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE. I listen to music and I watch Netflix and go to work and laugh and love and boy, do I ******* love. I'm not some specimen in a Petri dish, waiting to be examined. I am human with a heart and a mind like every one of you. I'm under the microscope... Why do you still refuse to see?

0

amy-fres

Jan 31, 2015

Jan 31, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC

l-4

Under The Microscope

I AM THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE. I listen to music and I watch Netflix and go to work and laugh and love and boy, do I ******* love. I'm not some specimen in a Petri dish, waiting to be examined. I am human with a heart and a mind like every one of you. I'm under the microscope... Why do you still refuse to see?

13

Have you ever been with people that make you feel a way that words can't express? Almost like time doesn't exist, and you can be young forever. You're frozen in that day, that moment, and it's the only thing that matters. There are no outside forces to distract you or take you away, reality is nonexistent. Obligations may get in the way, but they're irrelevant once you're back in the altered reality that has been created. There's nothing else like it, when you have best friends.

0

amy-fres

Jan 21, 2015

Jan 21, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC

jared-winslow

Friendship

Have you ever been with people that make you feel a way that words can't express? Almost like time doesn't exist, and you can be young forever. You're frozen in that day, that moment, and it's the only thing that matters. There are no outside forces to distract you or take you away, reality is nonexistent. Obligations may get in the way, but they're irrelevant once you're back in the altered reality that has been created. There's nothing else like it, when you have best friends.

1

What is beauty? An ideal stuffed down our throats, That makes us scrutinise reflections To trace every single flaw and imperfection in our very being? I've long since stopped searching for beauty in the mirror, It was a loosing battle, no mater what empty compliments were spat my way. Instead I've come to think of beauty as freedom, As liberation from the shackled thoughts of society, And it's come to mean so much.... more. Beauty isn't in the angular curves of malnourished models, The photoshopped perfection of tabloid queens. No. Beauty is in muted sunsets, Colours thrown up as homage to a whispered day, Cradles by clouds and wisps of white. Beauty is in the moments that make you itch for a pen, A brush, a lens: anything to preserve the moment In perfect clarity so that you can feel again the breath thieving awe. Beauty is in woven fingers and passionate touches, Love shouted through the twitch of a mouth and the softening of eyes. Beauty is caught in the second you stop, look up And dig your nails into a world that spins too quickly, Seizing every day that flies your way.

0

amy-fres

Jan 21, 2015

Jan 21, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC

serena-martius

Beauty is

What is beauty? An ideal stuffed down our throats, That makes us scrutinise reflections To trace every single flaw and imperfection in our very being? I've long since stopped searching for beauty in the mirror, It was a loosing battle, no mater what empty compliments were spat my way. Instead I've come to think of beauty as freedom, As liberation from the shackled thoughts of society, And it's come to mean so much.... more. Beauty isn't in the angular curves of malnourished models, The photoshopped perfection of tabloid queens. No. Beauty is in muted sunsets, Colours thrown up as homage to a whispered day, Cradles by clouds and wisps of white. Beauty is in the moments that make you itch for a pen, A brush, a lens: anything to preserve the moment In perfect clarity so that you can feel again the breath thieving awe. Beauty is in woven fingers and passionate touches, Love shouted through the twitch of a mouth and the softening of eyes. Beauty is caught in the second you stop, look up And dig your nails into a world that spins too quickly, Seizing every day that flies your way.

23

it's quite amusing to me now that every night I would dream of you and ask myself what I ever did to deserve your love but when in reality everyday I would ask myself what I could do or should have done to acquire your love even though I knew I was the last person you desired

0

Jan 8, 2015

Jan 8, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC

amy-fres

funny

it's quite amusing to me now that every night I would dream of you and ask myself what I ever did to deserve your love but when in reality everyday I would ask myself what I could do or should have done to acquire your love even though I knew I was the last person you desired

14

welcome to New York my wildest dream shot down by many but encouraged by more it's been waiting for you the tall buildings the grassy park the beautifully lit city you know you wouldn't change a thing an abundance of people different in every way accepting and willing it's been waiting for you my home away from home my wildest dream that I long for more and more

0

Dec 15, 2014

Dec 15, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC

amy-fres

New York

welcome to New York my wildest dream shot down by many but encouraged by more it's been waiting for you the tall buildings the grassy park the beautifully lit city you know you wouldn't change a thing an abundance of people different in every way accepting and willing it's been waiting for you my home away from home my wildest dream that I long for more and more

17