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Afia  Jul 2018
Gone with the Wind
Afia Jul 2018
A shaft from the golden sun,
reclined peacefully in my lap.
The amber gleam reflected back,
and gently baked the solemn land.
An ardent whisper furnished the woods
with a viridescent scent that woke up the woods.
Silver songs of sleek streams,
chased the lullabies away;
gently.
Ancient tress cuddled the wind,
their leaves clapped in sheer bliss
The broken winged white eyed bulbul,
warbled hymns to lift the curse.
Scarlet tainted vintage letters resting in the rustic mailbox,
await your tender touch; while they chant for a past long gone.
But lily livered clouds,
they have turned your courage into a yellow illusion.
So now defy the toxic words and the errors you made,
A different person inside your skin, long ago, burned our hearts on the hateful flames.
I look for answers in Nature.
I remember
Vividly those serene eyes,
Shining bright,
Emotion in them
Sparks my blood to rise

Thy teary eyes divine,
Speak with love and tenderness,
Eyes, a million stars in them
The picture of innocence.

Eyes seeking me -
Glowing,
Like that first dew,
On the new viridescent blade of grass.

Your eyes my matinal star
Your eyes my middays sunshines,
Your eyes my vespers twilight,
Your eyes an oceanic depth,
Your eyes my autumnal hues,
Your eyes wild jasmines
Fragrant at nights,
Like that sunflower
Gazing the afternoon sun.

Let the peacocks vauntingly dance,
Let the nightingales melodiously sing,
Let the flora and fauna flourish,
Like spring in prosperity,
In felicitation,
Let me always
See
Through Your Eyes
Selcæiös Feb 2018
your eyes don't glisten like they used to
just saying it's not something usual for you
so I guess you're heavily imbued
with this crestfallen attitude?


yea I know,
I've changed in the same way
my own little reverse-breakthrough
Risque foreplay with ultramarine Bombay
before stepping in to emcee the Devil's soiree

And no, you really don't --and honestly never did-- know me;
you only knew one of many façades I brazed
on my face
in the midst of a cliche
New Year's day typa haze

During the phase of
my infamously tempestuous craze
I was precipitously (ignited
quite possibly by my own
flaring sparks)

set ablaze with praise
but my mores seem to be misplaced
probably somewhere in the frenzy and hysteria

So I guess I'm left to embrace my untraced boundaries
*And get my viridian eyes back to glistening
on their own viridescent terms
Not codependent on the hollowed adulation
and sweet-talk from bamboccioni
(:
Methmi Mandara Apr 2021
Tokyo adorned with a jewel named spring
Beauty and Fragrance is what thou bring
Sakura blossoms covering the trees
Falling on me with the soft breeze

Wearing a kimono under the Sakura rains
Peace and love flowing through my veins
A pink carpet created under my feet
Sakura lovers are approaching to meet

Opened palm waiting for a gift
Holding a blossom which fell on so swift
Lying on the carpet watching the radiant sun
It’s thy happiness, the Hanami fun

Viridescent leaves are nowhere to be seen
Rosie colors are being so keen
Chasing the Sakura aroma I love
Is now falling on me from above

Sakura, Thou made my crestfallen heart gone
I wish to live in your scent spreading zone
Spring, I fecund you through the whole year
To be in the Sakura woods without a fear
Alan Brown Aug 2016
Below the emerald mountaintops,
Guardians of the ocean breeze,
One finds a valley of fair crops,
Delicate soil, & buzzing bees.

Convivial whips of sunlight
Stroke lavish groves of hardy trees.
On every branch, hidden from sight,
Fruit slumber underneath the leaves.

It is no wonder that Steinbeck
Cherished his California roots;
The land of viridescent trek,
Unyielding sunshine, & fresh fruits.

Here placid air unbinds the chains
Which hinder a poetic mind.
Away from life’s rigorous strains,
Deep thoughts are vividly defined.

In the midst of the Salinas Valley,
Ideas amass wings with which to soar...
A cardinal traversed within himself
Retrograding, an opposition to time's progressions
Letting its wings cut through memory streams

It notices–

A cold sea breeze
Journeying from dock into the Walled City
Mixing with arid wind and fumes from Manila streets
Twisting and turning sky-high greens
Causing umber to fall, separating themselves from virescent leaves

Familiarity drove it to circle this scene
As the curtains of relativity are pulled back to show it–

A street lamp dims,
Refusing to team with others' gleam
That give the black iron above Charles' skin an auburn sheen
As it keeps on flickering like hints
From an undecided heart, calling out to the man with every whim

Familiarity drove it to land on a tree
Perched on its viridescent sepia shoulders, playing guardian to–

A couple sits
On the rim of the fountain at the king's feet
A hand touches a cheek, a warm caress as their eyes meet
Fitting into each other's gaze
On the dried cascade, dessicated, as the street lamps stay lit

It notices–

As it traversed within himself
Retrograding all of its current progress
Letting his memories cut himself six-deep
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Gabriel Herrera Jul 2020
The moon tonight is crescent
The color is viridescent
The Earth watches the moon as it mimics
Watch out now moon
Don't grab a sponge and soak up our blue
Don't defy the laws of physics

Why steal the liquid
You're already blue
You're depressed like a squid
What's water to swim in gonna do
You're in solitary like an orphan kid
Nobody wants you

The blue consumed you moon
I'm sorry
The Sun awakens around noon
Greeted by billions
However, when you awaken
You have to implore those who doze
To not leave you so soon

The Earth uses you time after time
You're aware
But you come right back every night as if everything is fine
The Earth holds an annual fair
And you just step in line
Fairly, you only attend to commence a diversion
To steal the liquid

Why steal the liquid
You're already blue
You're depressed like a squid
What's water to swim in gonna do
You're in solitary like an orphan kid
Nobody wants you

Like an absent father
You're a bother
Unlike those who visit the moon dune beach
That's water you cannot steal even if you beseech
Listen here moon
Don't bother the mosquito that flies throughout the dune
Azaria Apr 2017
the absentminded
water slides
into the empty
spaces of my skin
i can feel your
mossy fingertips
playing with
the forces of nature
(the way you do)
there's a past inside me
that i cannot reach
and i do not run
from it
the mist from the water
seeps into my pores
and i am filled to the
brink with viridescent
potential
we're all just searching for something.
Addy Stone Apr 2016
Tuesday was when the sun failed
my shin bones were ripped from my legs and made it heavy to walk,
feathers fell through the air and suffocated each one of us,
7 billion curious eyes looked up to the viridescent sky,
then came a flash of emptiness,
the sky went out and so did our minds.
The world was left unable,
we could only feel
only taste
only hear
only smell.
Then they came,
and took everything from us
they took you away from me.
I felt a chilled hand gently touch my neck
and reach to my ear
a distant screech echoed throughout the deserted air  
then a numbing pain that reminded me of death spread over my skin
my eyelids began to close
and as they did I saw more light than when they were open
I saw more things than I could envisage.
A never ending white universe filled with unfamiliar faces flew around me
and once my eyes focused I searched for you,
every single person
hung in the empty air
with thin tubes filled with sapphire gel coming from their ears.
All of their faces were stripped of life and their eyes sunk into their heads,
but the one face I could not find was yours.
I remember day after day hoping I would wake up,
and eventually I did; but if only I hadn’t
I would not be trapped in the silence of not hearing your laugh,
not seeing you grow older
and I would not be stuck in the mind of a hopeless mad man
waiting for “them” to bring your bright green eyes
your soft smile
your small hands
back to me.
So I can only hope that you know
I search through midnight
every
single day
for you
and I will find you
in this blackened world;
my son.
Alien invasion poem
Josiah W Menzies Mar 2013
They tease only because they like what is true.

That is why you call them friends.
So when, in avocado skies,
With the fragrance of fuchsias, 

And perhaps even focaccia, 

And other salty, honest facts of life,
Droning like blue hummingbirds
And Manuka bees,
You seep through my weak and ailing
Ego, out onto the blotting paper of my conscious mind, 

I shall consider what it is they cherish, 

And come, perhaps, to feel the same.

And do not berate me when I do, 

I tease you only because I like what's true!

But here's a precursory thought or two,
Already noted on bibulous blue...

While I write a bottle’s worth
Of evasive attempts at articulation,
The following transpires:

That I have more in common with Van Gogh
Than most care to know, or notice.

That some called him Vincent.

That all I’ve ever written does not sum me up now,
And that the whereabouts of Brighton really doesn’t matter.

That you are the closest I will ever come
To understanding the stars,
And candidness is more attractive
And captivating
Than anyone cares to admit.

That lousy house parties
Are sometimes better than expected.
And you are braver than me,
And I thank you for it.

That speech is, more often than not,
Inadequate, and
Words seldom do justice
(However hard I battle with them.)
And that self-confessing,
Asymmetrical smiles
Are secretly my favorite kind.

That some songs have a hold on me,
That I could never explain much,
And photographs are not my favorite medium.

That poems are often incredibly hard to write,
And it’s all your fault.
(That you’re forgiven.)

And that even the spectrum
Of browns, golden and dusty,
Azul, virescent and viridescent,
Warm and hazy, igneous-red,
Flushed in sunset,
Curled in blazing amber;
The hue of gloriously tawny,
Shaggy apertures
Of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers
Are no match
For the honeyed morning's
Beams of light
Dancing on your head.

'But how can words express the feel of sunlight in the morning...'
Spriha Kant Apr 2021
On the muted music of the zephyr, the viridescent folks' dance and the fluffs veiled in white, sallow, and orange tinges glide in the mid-air. In this pristine swathe shield by a mysterious guard against intruders, there's no gravity to land from jovial vibrations.

© Spriha Kant
His topper reflected prisms,
And hair burned under his moon glance,
How ephemeral was midnight,
Darkness dressing my hair in stars,
His smile the light spill from a broken moon,
A claret glass bursting with blood skies,
His plumage exodus stealth netherworld ,
Trithing shards in flamed heat,
Black salt pastes orinein wounds,
Kirk yard elementals despoil spirits of all hell,
Strix cackle, taunt on nightly transvections,
A viridescent sadness wakes alone.
Saudade no seasons doth befall,
Trapped in concupiscence darkest tale void of intemperance


── Clad in loves spectural crown

Arnay Rumens © 12/ 2014
Words to give you thought provoking hmm now what do they mean? It was once suggested that I refrain from cosmic or being wordy in my work, rather the opposite grinned my face.. Enjoy, words are our art after all challenge the master be the ink in your pen :)

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