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the soul likes
when I dress him up like this:
few vowels,
more consonants,

syllables, and all the rest
that float
on the white clouds
of dreaming

on the red waters
of the heart.
he could hide, of course,
but would rather

show off scars and slashes.
naked, colorless being,
he needs
the glitter of language,

rhyme and rhythm,
similar, succeeding sounds;
he needs poetry’s depth,
beauty

and immortality
and the lucid glare of eyes,
substance
and stimuli,

to exist
to be more than a song
that plays
in silent frequencies—

so he flows—
from the deep of feeling
washes out burdens
like a mighty stream;

and unto paper
blooms up the slick and scented
petals of pain
like rain.
Heavily inspired by Mary Oliver's poem: "POEM" from her collection 'Dream Work.'
Steve Page Oct 15
Hue
My enhancers
Are chosen carefully
And balanced with my dominant hue
To ensure
They first see just who
I am
And not see me through
my base blue
Colour is important
chang cosido Sep 17
Someday doesn't mean reassurance -
a pocket for small , frail hopes.
Someday means someday will arrive.

Make her a dress.
With your own two hands.
Out of nothing and everything.

When someday comes,
make her beautiful
for yourself.
Elicia Hurst Sep 14
A summer dress, perhaps
deserves a summerish redress.

In the witching hour, solitude's domain,
there is naught but
I, and the white-hot eclipse for my eye.

I have one hand beneath your neck,
and another behind your knees.
In these gloves, I will drown and resurrect
my fair dress, one-and-only Sunday Best,
sodium hypochlorite cocktail mess.
My alternative hydrotherapy
is a remedy from my enemy.

You traffic through this well of hell in ease.
A fire drunken on the Lethe.
Deliquesce in clinical scents.

Your skin thrives on the purge,
but mine cannot survive.
Jul 2020
Alex Aug 11
Fancy dresses,
A big hall and the crowds,
Secret glances,
With means and reasons,
What are the odds,
My eyes meet yours,
While my arms lay on somebody,
And you hated it cause it wasn't you,
You may do your utmost,
But I am not going back,
Flashbacks, memories,
The goods ones and bad,
It's not the typical films you've watched before,
You knew how it ends,
Switching blows,
Blaming games,
And the words are like blades,
We ended hurting ourselves,
So it's maybe gone for good,
And even if we never meant what we say,
We better keep it that way,
Stop seeking chances,
Our eyes parted ways,
At the ball,
With fancy dresses,
In a big hall and full crowds.
Rylee B Jul 28
When night falls,
The demons sing their calls,
But beware
You may be led to a ball,
Dancing, singing, and a glamorous dress,
May all lead to your distress,
As singing and dancing
Leads to wailing and screaming
The ones who called you to this ball,
Will gather around you,
Looking at you,
Appalled.
So you slunk away in your dress
Worn, and tattered by slides and steps,
Back to your room,
Move along.
Back to your room
As you cry and sob.
When you cry in bed,
Comfort starts to fill your head,
The warm sensation of blankets and pillows
Makes you sleep happily.
finally
I wrote this for a school assignment hope you all like it!
Bullet Jul 23
Hatred and pettiness drives you
Love and greatness is my pedal

Our outfits are our outlook
We both wear red hats
But you’re dressed in hatred
I’m draped in a lovely bucket

The car I drive is as rusted as your heart
You stare at a windshield of revenge
Wiper blades pass by rain that you’ve dropped my way
The lights I shine dance
Your headlights are dim
While we both dress to impress
You stunt because you’re pressed
I shine through love to careless
Fat sounds, and fingers
spread ugly phleghming sharting stains on
Cotton, shiny white and new. And
Spit and ***** books a slot on,
Saturdays outfit change and
Its ok.
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