swoopingevil - Hello Poetry

I think it’s an hour to sunrise Breezy winds, weather of winter The horizon of man made light shimmers So little yet so many specks Variant but in unison making a shade of violet That just about kisses the navy sky freckled with turbulent glitter It’s very wonderful. It’s really wonderful. I wish I found someone as wonderful, sometimes. I mean it’s really cold and we barely have anything on, But I’m happy you’re watching it with me. Maybe let’s stay a little.

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Jan 22, 2020

Jan 22, 2020 at 9:00 PM UTC

A Very Backhanded Compliment

I think it’s an hour to sunrise Breezy winds, weather of winter The horizon of man made light shimmers So little yet so many specks Variant but in unison making a shade of violet That just about kisses the navy sky freckled with turbulent glitter It’s very wonderful. It’s really wonderful. I wish I found someone as wonderful, sometimes. I mean it’s really cold and we barely have anything on, But I’m happy you’re watching it with me. Maybe let’s stay a little.

11

Feelings, I think, are fluids. They sway; twist and turn with ease. They come in all tastes and colors, light, viscose, and all in-betweens. They can be contained, spilled. They’re often prone to leaking, and with enough pressure, they’ll burst. Feelings, I think, like all fluids, can suffer drought. Some fade with no remnants to be found. Some, may it be to one’s dismay or comfort, leave something of smell or taste, maybe even a memory of color or an everlasting stain, behind. I wonder if indifference is the sand sea in this scenery. The demise of all that’s felt, no trace nor sign remaining. I wonder if it can overcome the fiery, glowing red of blood-thick anger, the melodies sung in pastel by infatuation, perhaps even the droplets of pitch-black fear that echo loudest. If so then I truly wonder why indifference exists. What the loss of all feelings accomplishes.

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Nov 1, 2019

Nov 1, 2019 at 4:10 PM UTC

Like you don’t have to be a **** about **** but like you don’t not have to, ya feel?

Feelings, I think, are fluids. They sway; twist and turn with ease. They come in all tastes and colors, light, viscose, and all in-betweens. They can be contained, spilled. They’re often prone to leaking, and with enough pressure, they’ll burst. Feelings, I think, like all fluids, can suffer drought. Some fade with no remnants to be found. Some, may it be to one’s dismay or comfort, leave something of smell or taste, maybe even a memory of color or an everlasting stain, behind. I wonder if indifference is the sand sea in this scenery. The demise of all that’s felt, no trace nor sign remaining. I wonder if it can overcome the fiery, glowing red of blood-thick anger, the melodies sung in pastel by infatuation, perhaps even the droplets of pitch-black fear that echo loudest. If so then I truly wonder why indifference exists. What the loss of all feelings accomplishes.

4

The way she gets worked about the compliments The way she shies away from kindness she's in no shortage of giving A starlight's flicker, if I've ever seen one.

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Sep 9, 2019

Sep 9, 2019 at 6:57 AM UTC

I like her as much as her cat likes tampering with her ****

The way she gets worked about the compliments The way she shies away from kindness she's in no shortage of giving A starlight's flicker, if I've ever seen one.

3

How many more days ‘til I lose time to your fingertips How many more days ‘til I lose comfort to your embrace How many more days ‘til I lose sanity to your lips How many more days ‘til I lose tears to your grace Weave my days like you weave your words Weave my being so that I’m only yours

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Sep 3, 2019

Sep 3, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC

Day ∞: You, me, and a melody everlasting

How many more days ‘til I lose time to your fingertips How many more days ‘til I lose comfort to your embrace How many more days ‘til I lose sanity to your lips How many more days ‘til I lose tears to your grace Weave my days like you weave your words Weave my being so that I’m only yours

16

I can't tell whether they eclipse because the Sun is jealous of your radiance or if they eclipse because the Moon wants to be the only one able to glare at you. How fair you are; still never fair to us.

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Sep 1, 2019

Sep 1, 2019 at 10:13 PM UTC

Day 3: A type of way to explain

I can't tell whether they eclipse because the Sun is jealous of your radiance or if they eclipse because the Moon wants to be the only one able to glare at you. How fair you are; still never fair to us.

2

Sometimes even Moon refuses to leave the sky, the star-adorned sky where it's free and chooses to imprison itself, being jaded by everything but you. It sticks around for your mornings some; It said watching you every night isn't enough, not even for forever, and I couldn't help but feel jealous.

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Aug 31, 2019

Aug 31, 2019 at 2:06 PM UTC

Day 2: My friend noticed you stay up last night, it thinks you're cute and asked for your number. I said no because I like you. Also because I don't have your number.

Sometimes even Moon refuses to leave the sky, the star-adorned sky where it's free and chooses to imprison itself, being jaded by everything but you. It sticks around for your mornings some; It said watching you every night isn't enough, not even for forever, and I couldn't help but feel jealous.

6

Would you wilt, my Orchid? Wilt by the waters of ignorance, by the heat of disparage? Would you wilt, my Orchid? Wilt by your stubborn defiance, by your planted loathing? Wilt you may, my Orchid, but in my hands. Wilt in palms that scurry to save you. Wilt you may, my Orchid, but leave your roots. Wilt with trace of hope to save me. Would you wilt, my Orchid, by a common rose’s grace? Would you wilt, my Orchid, when my heaven is your face?

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Aug 29, 2019

Aug 29, 2019 at 9:39 PM UTC

You dug your veins deep; nourished their lands, but they could never notice.

Would you wilt, my Orchid? Wilt by the waters of ignorance, by the heat of disparage? Would you wilt, my Orchid? Wilt by your stubborn defiance, by your planted loathing? Wilt you may, my Orchid, but in my hands. Wilt in palms that scurry to save you. Wilt you may, my Orchid, but leave your roots. Wilt with trace of hope to save me. Would you wilt, my Orchid, by a common rose’s grace? Would you wilt, my Orchid, when my heaven is your face?

18

Color because living is desolate without it. It's as if I can hear color & that's why my background is something she'd said. Color because skies & seas dull without it. As if I can feel color & that's why my conscience is in willful quandary. Indigo because Emerald is too zest and she isn't. My, my; how bruises could turn out so gentle.

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Aug 27, 2019

Aug 27, 2019 at 7:13 PM UTC

Forest Green & Every Other

Color because living is desolate without it. It's as if I can hear color & that's why my background is something she'd said. Color because skies & seas dull without it. As if I can feel color & that's why my conscience is in willful quandary. Indigo because Emerald is too zest and she isn't. My, my; how bruises could turn out so gentle.

12

How I've missed you; didn't know how I much I did until I saw you, my friend. You look dazzling this evening. Quite bright. Cover yourself in the clouds it's cold up there. You take care of yourself & I'll try to do the same. Until next time. Old friend,

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Aug 11, 2019

Aug 11, 2019 at 2:43 PM UTC

Come Shining

How I've missed you; didn't know how I much I did until I saw you, my friend. You look dazzling this evening. Quite bright. Cover yourself in the clouds it's cold up there. You take care of yourself & I'll try to do the same. Until next time. Old friend,

11

"... I don't want you to leave" Normally, I wake up mid-sleep. I didn't this time. I did actually, but just that once, just the once to get to her. And we're in the backseat. and she's most precious. Just a taste, just a taste. "... Do not hurt her" I know, I know; I won't. She will, once I wake up. Hold my hand, just a taste. And in a maze of buildings, And in a maze of rooms. All white, pink, & pastel. She's pink & pastel. Most Precious. Coiled like cats beneath her blankets inside a freezing room. "Hey" with a smile. Most precious. "...hey." And she was gone. "... I don't want you to leave"

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May 14, 2019

May 14, 2019 at 7:37 AM UTC

I waited for you in my dreams, but you don't show up so someone else did

"... I don't want you to leave" Normally, I wake up mid-sleep. I didn't this time. I did actually, but just that once, just the once to get to her. And we're in the backseat. and she's most precious. Just a taste, just a taste. "... Do not hurt her" I know, I know; I won't. She will, once I wake up. Hold my hand, just a taste. And in a maze of buildings, And in a maze of rooms. All white, pink, & pastel. She's pink & pastel. Most Precious. Coiled like cats beneath her blankets inside a freezing room. "Hey" with a smile. Most precious. "...hey." And she was gone. "... I don't want you to leave"

22