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1d
Crimson veil, in strands of velvet,
Shadows holes so deep, yet full,
Upon and through clear clouds englobed,
Hold all the meaning, thought; and mull.

Pointed stripes up, cutting darkness.
Peachy border down below:
Well, closed up by ivory planks,
Forever to prevent its blow.

Gape of paradise, extended
Past the limits of what's forth.
Riddled thoughts with whispered feeling,
To now be learned of its full worth.

Cream earth, smooth, fake, yet still soothing:
Paleness, spread on pleasant mounds.
It is what always sets apart
And into fading visage wounds.

Crimson veil, in strands of velvet,
Shadows holes, deep, never dull,
Into two lunar suns engraved
Is where I stare, for they will lull.
Kaiden Lewis Nov 2024
If good is white
And bad is black
Then i am colorblind
YES I KNOW COLOR BLINDNESS DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT..
Slugish Nov 2024
You
No matter what color you are,
Red
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Purple
Brown
Black
Beige
Viridian
Atroveins
Glaucous
Zaffre
Amaranth
Gamboge
Vermil­lion
Amber
Eburnean
Fulvous
Celadon
Chartreuse
You are still you :)
ヾ(≧▽≦*)o
I like colors
Like a box of crayons,
We come in many shades, and
in many different colors,
Shades and skintones, we
Precede one another.
We have the reds, and
the Oranges galore,
and the rest of the colors,
that we certainly do adore.
We are like crayons,
We start off as perfect, but
When we're worned down,
We are tattered and broken,
We are still useful, although
our essence had faded,
We're used less and less, and
We start to feel degraded,
We are like these crayons,
We are still around, but
Our purpose becomes useless,
as we are dwindling on down!!!


B.R.
Date: 11/9/2024
Hebert Logerie Nov 2024
Yellow flower, grieving flower, pale flower,
You were burnt by the sun and the hot rain.
Ripe flower, matured flower, immaculate flower,
You've nevertheless kept your phenomenal beauty sane.

The half-yellow and the half-green leaves
Are trying to mimic your beautiful color.
Mother Nature and Fauna are profusely in tears,
And Squirrel and Nightingale in a state of horror.

Flower of one of the most somber and romantic seasons,
Your exceptional beauty merits great admirations
And your sweet and delicious sap is beyond words.

Flower, I'm coming tonight to rest on your turfs,
To contemplate the stars and the sparks,
The abandoned branches and the rods floating in the parks.

Copyright © March 1997, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Translation of Fleur De L'Automne by Hebert Logerie
Hebert Logerie Nov 2024
Fleur jaune, fleur triste, fleur pâle;
Le soleil t'a brûlée et la pluie t'a échaudée;
Fleur mûre, fleur maturée, fleur immaculée;
Malgré tout, tu as gardé ta beauté phénoménale.

Les feuilles à moitié jaunes et à moitié vertes
Essaient de porter tes belles couleurs.
La nature et la faune sont inconsolables et en pleurs,
Les écureuils et les rossignols sont en état d'alerte.

Fleur d'une de la plus sombre et romantique saison,
Laisse-moi admirer ta beauté exceptionnelle
Et savourer encore ta douce et délicieuse salive.

Fleur, je viendrai, ce soir, m'étendre sur ton gazon.
Viens admirer les étoiles, les étincelles,
Les branches et les tiges abandonnées dans la rive.

Copyright © Mars 2008, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Ejiro Oct 2024
it was either during middle school or junior high school
honestly, I can't remember
my English teacher told us to write a poem
didn't matter if it was long as a railroad station
or short as a pathway shortcut
"Just write" she said
she gives me a piece of paper and pencil
and told me a few examples that I can use for my first poem
but one example sparked my interest
"You can write about your favorite color" she said
so, with that in mind I start to begin writing
I wrote about the color blue
and things that have that color in it:
the sky
ocean waves
blueberry muffins
blue jays
sadness and sorrow
depression and numbness
the pain of being found guilty
the feeling of emptiness
being left alone
and showing signs of loneliness

I went on and on until my fragile hand started to cramp
but when I reached the end of my poem
I realized something very peculiar
blue wasn't my favorite color
yet I had presented blue in a way far more than just a “primary” color
When I submitted it to my teacher
she said that she loved it and gave me a good grade
later, when I got my paper back
I reread it a few times
crumbled it up to a ball
and chucked it into the nearest trash can
hoping that no one would find it
Now that I've gotten older
blue is one of my favorite colors now
Melissa Starr Oct 2024
Looking onward,
Sun sets the sky gold
Golden highlights on ember stones
As iron turns to molten lava blue
As the sun settles on the rise
Rose colored stones darken
Green brush lit a fire in the changing leaves
Soon it sets dark
Set the embers aside
To turn to fire again in the morn
Sleep now child
It will all be answered
I love the fall. And campfires.
Emery Feine Oct 2024
Why do we wish that orange sunset won't ever die?
When we barely notice the normal, beautiful blue sky?
I think why we crave for the sunset to prolong
Is because the prettiest colors are the ones that don't belong
this is my 91st poem, written on 4/14/24
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