laurengm50 - Hello Poetry

people change everyday so i vow to fall in love with you every time the sun rises s.s

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laurengm50

Apr 17, 2018

Apr 17, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC

skylercs

new day new you

people change everyday so i vow to fall in love with you every time the sun rises s.s

4

A whole day adventure And we didn't even have to leave home. Your mind is a castle full of gypsies and forgiveness and understanding and gratefulness and extraordinary orange skies and classical music that even heavy metal lovers find themselves falling in love with. You spread love to everyone and anyone. You say I always remember it better than it was. It is innocence that drips from your lips when you say "Good bye" I beg you to shut your mouth. But mansions with longer tables and clearer skies call your name. Please. Continue to send books. I turn these days and starry nights into imaginative literature so they never die. I will never forget you, Princess.

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Apr 17, 2018

Apr 17, 2018 at 8:43 PM UTC

laurengm50

A Mind

A whole day adventure And we didn't even have to leave home. Your mind is a castle full of gypsies and forgiveness and understanding and gratefulness and extraordinary orange skies and classical music that even heavy metal lovers find themselves falling in love with. You spread love to everyone and anyone. You say I always remember it better than it was. It is innocence that drips from your lips when you say "Good bye" I beg you to shut your mouth. But mansions with longer tables and clearer skies call your name. Please. Continue to send books. I turn these days and starry nights into imaginative literature so they never die. I will never forget you, Princess.

12

Creative enhanced blood cells move within as I harvest kind words. They enter the mind to explode expanding, blooming, tickling senses to write. The moon is lit to enhance as well the sun with its rays bright. And when it rains moisture touches skin to anoint cells with boost bringing forth words. Words to enrich and inspire others All in the day of a poet. A poet, who flies in dreamscape fantasies. StarBG © 2017

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laurengm50

Feb 24, 2018

Feb 24, 2018 at 9:12 PM UTC

star-bg

Words, Words Words

Creative enhanced blood cells move within as I harvest kind words. They enter the mind to explode expanding, blooming, tickling senses to write. The moon is lit to enhance as well the sun with its rays bright. And when it rains moisture touches skin to anoint cells with boost bringing forth words. Words to enrich and inspire others All in the day of a poet. A poet, who flies in dreamscape fantasies. StarBG © 2017

13

How magnificent it must be to be written about. Your name replaced by descriptions of the way your pink sumptuous smile looked in the shoddy light of your living room last night. The people read his paper for entertainment. So could you call it progress? Possibly character development. To read about yourself flourishing into the miscreant you were always destined to be. How engrossing it must be to gradually watch that pink sumptuous smile turn into nothing but a starless hole. The critics are bored and dehydrated. On their hands and knees, they beg him to compose more. That's why he stays in the living room and stares at me. He waits for me to make one wrong move. But there is no more life in this room. Only a pen and a subject.

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Feb 22, 2018

Feb 22, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC

laurengm50

The Writer

How magnificent it must be to be written about. Your name replaced by descriptions of the way your pink sumptuous smile looked in the shoddy light of your living room last night. The people read his paper for entertainment. So could you call it progress? Possibly character development. To read about yourself flourishing into the miscreant you were always destined to be. How engrossing it must be to gradually watch that pink sumptuous smile turn into nothing but a starless hole. The critics are bored and dehydrated. On their hands and knees, they beg him to compose more. That's why he stays in the living room and stares at me. He waits for me to make one wrong move. But there is no more life in this room. Only a pen and a subject.

12

We sit across the room from each other in hideous furniture. But still, you scream, "What is it all about? Why are we here?" I respond, warm affection dripping in every word, "Human connection." "There must be more than that," you insist. Your words leave me with nothing except an unworthy reparation on my lips. I glance around the freezing house and realize I have obviously failed to provide enough for the both of us.

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Feb 20, 2018

Feb 20, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC

laurengm50

Planet

We sit across the room from each other in hideous furniture. But still, you scream, "What is it all about? Why are we here?" I respond, warm affection dripping in every word, "Human connection." "There must be more than that," you insist. Your words leave me with nothing except an unworthy reparation on my lips. I glance around the freezing house and realize I have obviously failed to provide enough for the both of us.

8

Warm affection runs through every syllable when you utter, "I delight in the way you write." At these words I am left to wonder if my life has reached its peak. You remind me that the magic of growing is not all but gone. With you, There is always enough sound And never too much racket. I write to you, for you, and with you. You obtain the unfortunately rare talent of valuing human life And appreciating its art forms. Your mind is a small business. Not ran by a King, But by a little Prince. A perfect mixture of complexity and simplicity and understanding. Today I compose a melody of thank yous. To both you and the universe for giving you the brain you have. Thank you for inspiring me, making me think, and bringing astounding music into my life.

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Feb 20, 2018

Feb 20, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC

laurengm50

You

Warm affection runs through every syllable when you utter, "I delight in the way you write." At these words I am left to wonder if my life has reached its peak. You remind me that the magic of growing is not all but gone. With you, There is always enough sound And never too much racket. I write to you, for you, and with you. You obtain the unfortunately rare talent of valuing human life And appreciating its art forms. Your mind is a small business. Not ran by a King, But by a little Prince. A perfect mixture of complexity and simplicity and understanding. Today I compose a melody of thank yous. To both you and the universe for giving you the brain you have. Thank you for inspiring me, making me think, and bringing astounding music into my life.

18

I wonder how you sit on piles of beatific feelings While the poor are starved for hope. They are ready to consume anything uplifting. Many folks are competent enough to give their time and money. But I find a bad taste in my mouth When those presented with the gift of gaiety Choose only to share it with a select few.

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Feb 11, 2018

Feb 11, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC

laurengm50

To Be Kind

I wonder how you sit on piles of beatific feelings While the poor are starved for hope. They are ready to consume anything uplifting. Many folks are competent enough to give their time and money. But I find a bad taste in my mouth When those presented with the gift of gaiety Choose only to share it with a select few.

7

you asked me what i wanted today. between the lips of your sulking smile, you asked me what you should do, where we should go from here. amid each gasp of breath came a despairing tear that welled up in your eye. i reached for your hand as my voice turned to a quivering whisper, "i love you." after all, how could i tell you what i wanted, how could i be so selfish. i want you to be happy, again, even if that means fighting on a while longer.

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laurengm50

Feb 1, 2018

Feb 1, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC

alyssaann

how could i.

you asked me what i wanted today. between the lips of your sulking smile, you asked me what you should do, where we should go from here. amid each gasp of breath came a despairing tear that welled up in your eye. i reached for your hand as my voice turned to a quivering whisper, "i love you." after all, how could i tell you what i wanted, how could i be so selfish. i want you to be happy, again, even if that means fighting on a while longer.

15

I am left to wonder if you really do appreciate music like you say. Because after you stopped looking me straight in the eyes, I became blind to the passion and melody that you claimed pulsed in those veins.

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Jan 30, 2018

Jan 30, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC

laurengm50

Listen

I am left to wonder if you really do appreciate music like you say. Because after you stopped looking me straight in the eyes, I became blind to the passion and melody that you claimed pulsed in those veins.

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