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JAC Aug 2018
We slowly met the morning
when the sun was running late
on a grey-blue Sunday
at quarter past eight

you rolled into me
******* in grey sheets
doused in long hours
and too little sleep

while we hid in the covers
waiting for the alarm
I knew this was perfect
and never wanted to leave

the grey-blue pillows.
a Aug 2018
a touch of purple paints itself into the monochrome,
a ray of hope,
a sense of sanity,
a soft palm runs through the lilac labyrinth,
a horse on the horizon,
in my hand,
a hot-cross bun.
Bragi Aug 2018
A Story of guilt.
Not for him, for us.
Vincent.

Strokes and flicks,
Glides of guilded golds
Hushed in the Blues,
Innocence in the Greens;
Boldly infused oils
Spilling out on a canvas;
A legacy built on
Sorrow. Toil. Turmoil.
Who with dark indents on a page shaded in
Shadows showed
Work. Work, work,
Constant work.
A Starry Night’s muse.
All the while cowards saying they always
Knew,
Always loved,
Always loving
Vincent.
Sabila Siddiqui Aug 2018
You notice the
bruises of many hues
painted across the ****** canvas
reflecting through the shade of mood.

You ask what happened?
But this question
would require me to break open the surface;
permeate my skin
for you to dissect,
explore the source
analyse and
do the autopsy of my past.

But I am not ready to show you
more than the bleed
that is close to the surface
threatening to break.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Boiling syrup sweetened by
the rose's water
Blushing pink, from strips to cubes
Dusted with icing sugar
Small, gently perfumed,
chewy, light
Sweet!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Seventeenth Epulaeryu! ^-^
I LOVE Turkish Delight, oh my gosh!
Mainly because of one of my favourite books, The Chronicles of Narnia, the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe! Classic!
It's because of both the book and film that I first tried it!
EEEeeee!
Lyn ***
Rj Aug 2018
There are no monsters here.
We are not pristine or pure
But neither are we ***** or sinful.
I let my feet touch the ground.
Stable and secure.
There are angels all around me.
Dark grey eyes and soft pink lips.
Hands that softly wrap around your waist,
Wings that can swallow you whole,
Feathers of bright colours and hearts to match.
We are here,
Innocent and free
Bright and beautiful
We are not ashamed of the scars that litter our hearts and skins
The battles we have fought,
No matter if we won or lost
Are why we have found ourselves here
Where bright colours are beautiful
And our scars fill us with pride.
There are angels all around me
But what makes them angels
Is what made them human.
ok I rlly hate the ending but here it is it's very special to me pls be careful with it
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
Fae
Women of the Spring
Sitting on the vast Floral Hearts
Wings flutter gently
Walking past a field of flowers! I noticed that a few butterflies were
resting on them, too.  They look so beautiful when they fly away in the sun.
Need to pop down to the shop to get a few things!
Gonna use the time to plan out my free-verse too;
I've got the theme down at least.
Be back soon! ^-^
Lyn ***
nish Aug 2018
do you know what phosphenes are?
when you rub your eyes
those little blinking dots
the ones of different colours
that dance around alluringly

you are very much like phosphenes
a vast array of colour
destroying boundless darkness
make me forget my fatigue
i immerse myself in your beauty
breathtaking, indescribable

but as soon as i open my eyes
you disperse into nothing
i'm met with the sight of another bleak day
until i close my eyes again

a̶n̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶r̶u̶b̶ ̶e̶l̶s̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶
I came across this word today and I just HAD to use it, hope you enjoyed :)
nish Jul 2018
oh
  you
    remind
      me of a leaf  
    with each season
      you change your colour
       until one day you fall to
      the cold, bare ground
       it may seem sad, but
       you add pigment
       to the lifeless
        soil, still so
         very
            a
        l
          i
             v
                   e.
Never tried shape poetry before but happy with the way it turned out. Accidentally deleted this earlier on, sorry if you're seeing it again :(
nish Jul 2018
i like to look at things that shine

fireworks projected into the sky
and like a shooting star they fall
some wish
i watch
as it splits into an array of colours
a few seconds of beauty
quickly enveloped by the night sky

floating lanterns, so ominous
so pretty and mysterious
dots across the dark horizon
the endless darkness tainted
by blurs of light from a distace
but up close they truly are
an enchanting spectacle

camp fires are surreal
what stories do they hold
it rages and fights
it consumes, magnificent
so powerful and yet
so wise

candles bring out memories
if i stare too long
its rhythmic flame will devour me
the tiny light brings out the biggest shadows
like a trance it pulls me in
blow it out, then i'll be free

neon trapped within traffic lights
the red has immeasurable power
amber hues bring on despair
green commands attention
but in the dead of the night
when not a single soul roams by
driving past the glowing lines
of light upon light
i enter a realm of nostalgia

i see the flash of lightning
it is ferocious
commands respect
but when i watch it
from behind a window pane
with raindrops streaking down
the thunder muted, the dark clouds
they emit the most beautiful violet light
it comes and goes in simply seconds

and how could i forget the stars
always there
but only alive
in the depths of the night
scattered across the sky
they glow like an accessory
desired but unreachable
i stretch my hand out high
a little more and i can touch them.
This poem was actually inspired from a textpost I saw about star-signs and things that shine. Every different light brings out a different feeling, just like people. I haven't included all the signs, just the ones I liked.
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