#crimson poems on Hello Poetry

aspen wilde Jun 2020

i run you through my fingers,
waiting for my response.
your surface smooth as water,
your blade sharp as ice.
your blue tint reflecting my sadness,
your cracks revealing my anger.
still waiting for my answer,
i place you down admiring your beauty.
little shard of glass,
nothing else can cut so smoothly.
i think about it,
can i be that strong
as to not rip you through my skin,
and watch the validation seep out?
watch your red army attack my clothes,
staining the white the deepest crimson?
i think i'm done deciding,
what will i do- only time will tell.

you once were so innocent
though now stained with red.
i took your life from you
like you itch to take mine from me.

- credit to Sylvia Plath for the red army reference
-- see 'Cut'

#glass #shard #sadness #anger #ice #beauty #attack #crimson #red

N Jun 2020

Crimson Death

My favorite color used to be yellow,
it was my sun,
it kept me warm and happy

But as I grew older crimson
became my favorite color

A slow death,
crimson drips from my wrists
as I turn cold and pale

I miss being yellow.

#yellow #sun #warm #happy #crimson #death #blood #depression #suicide #cutting

Luna Jun 2020

Cross my heart and hope to die

Crimson Carnations teetering in the porch
Along with the humid air of summertime.

Melodious tweet of cuckoo's at dawn
Stomach filled with hibernated butterflies.

I never believed in love at first sight
Cross my heart and hope to die.

But looking at you for the first time
Your mysterious eyes made me believe all the myths.

And all my hibernated butterflies
You make them wonder
"How it feels to fly!".

#summer #summertime #butterfly #love #myterious #myths #crimson #dawn #fly #loveatfirstsight

Poetic T May 2020

Caskit Of Dead Roses

Death is beauty,
               as the rose atop of death
feeds on the nourishment of
                                   an empty shell.

Even though its petals decay,
                              its reaches higher

than the tomb
                      to bring life crimson to the surface.

#rose #crimson #blood #feed #corpse #shell #death #petals

Alternate Realities May 2020

An Old Habit

Still I think of an old habit, that I had once made to inhabit, it developed quick as a rabbit.
                              With how fast the crimson would flood, with mountain of tissues soaked in blood, as my body is tossed in the mud.
                                       In all honesty I still miss the rush, the gush,
                                                  That silent shush.
        But I'll keep my word,
Though i might be a flightless bird,
    I can still be beautiful even with the scars, is that so absurd?

#old #habits #inhabit #crimson #blood #that #shush #promise #flightless #scars

Aneesh H Jan 2020

Spring

The Sun rose in the East
Mother Earth demurely smiled
And a crimson spread across the East
And their love did a hundred flowers bloom
the bees buzzed, the wind swayed, the bird
A new song did sing
It is Spring!

Spring is a season of joy. The gloom of winter is cured by the friendly, lively warmth of Spring. Spring brings hope, cheer and new energy. It is the season of love. In India, it is also the season of harvest festival as well as Basant Panchami, the festival to worship Mother Saraswati, the Goddess of learning. Also, an Indian version of the valentines day: a festival of passion, anticipation and preparation for the upcoming season of bloom.

During harvest festival, worship of Mother Earth signifies the deification of the only planet we have, thereby spreading the message of sustainability and healthy living.

#spring #love #crimson #red #passion #valentine #cheer #hope #anticipation

Crystal Freda Dec 2019

rancid ruby

burgundy braids braced
the back of her brass bed.
Raving ruby ringlets
ravaged royalty on her head.

autumn's aquired art
ablazed ambers of auburn.
crimison curls caressed
as carmine chromes churn.

vivifying vistas vibrate
vibrance with verbalized twirls.
Remembering rumbles of rage
rouged in her rancid curls.

#color #red #girl #curls #crimson

Cheyenne Macrides Dec 2019

ripe

autumn was slow
and opportunities shook themeselves
over me
i was at a turning point whilst crimson
leaves fell underneath my feet
gathering dust onto my street

i was undoing
just like the citrus fruits that hang in my grandmothers garden, the light was changing and i felt
ripe again.

#autumn #seasons #poetry #thoughts #light #love #fruit #garden #crimson #leaves