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Irem Sep 29
The blonde shimmer of your hair gets lost
In the lights of city and it begins to transform
Into your ambition that keeps you alive
While the shine and glory of youth that you have in your face
Is mixing with loud sirens of the city

Just a little bit , just a little bit shine that I’m searching for
A green glimmer would keep me alive
Trying to distract myself  from the distance that we put between us
A shine of happiness would keep my heart alive

So busy with our lives that we don’t even realize
How the city reacts with our hearts
When we feel a heartache we just look at the city lights
Like lights could take the pain away

Perfectly cut, walls of glasses
Another day is beginning
The sun is rising again.
Inspired by Junko Ohashi’s Crystal City.
There’s a song in my soul
That I try to control
But it won’t be directed
Or infected by me
My higher self singing
and flinging me
forwards into the light,
with my dreams in sight
There - where I am awake,
with glimmer and gleam and
in sync with my being.
DAF Mar 22
wheres the golden days they spoke about
seem like metallic lies
shiny by the looks of them
still cold to the touch
Jessica Jarvis Oct 2018
Do I dance through your head like an ancient melody,
so distinct and historic, yet repeated traditionally?
Do I sing through your ears like a blue bird's pretty song,
so constant in the morning, promising from dusk to dawn?
Do I twinkle in your eyes like a midnight moon's glimmer,
so steadily, heavenly bright, reflecting like a lakeside's shimmer?
Do I do all of these things like there is no other routine?
It's funny how even distance can't halt a fond heart's memory.
10/20/18

Well?...

Haven't written in a while. It feels good to write a few words again.
Bee Sep 2018
He was bound to the skies,
She was tied to the seas.
They spend their lives apart yet,
the way they glimmer at the horizon is prepossessing
Viseract Aug 2018
It's like you see beyond the glimmer in my eyes
It's like you're able to look right through my faulty smile
It's like you see right past the parts of a different time
It's like you gaze into the depths and see two of a kind

It's like I seem to be to you as clear as the sky
Whenever you can't see a ******* cloud on the horizon, why?
You see the good intentions and you see the wicked ways
The water on the surface and the Devils own blaze!

I'm the master of my fate, I am not the beast in me!
I will not succumb, not be numb, to your ******* greed!
I will stay afloat, in the tides of misery!
I will make my way, and you will not **** me!

The jester we are one, the good and bad combined!
We live to entertain, but it's myself that I provide!
Laughing in despair, head lowered in pride
A contradictory conflict, and you see it in my eyes...

It's like you see beyond, the glimmer in my eyes
It's like you're able to look right through my faulty smile
It's like you see right past the mask behind which we will hide
It's like you gaze into the depths and see our dead divide...
Nayana Nair Jul 2018
All these dreams that remains a dream,
their glimmer and shine
now feel like pinpricks in my eyes,
as the list of “not-achieved” and “compromises”
grows long.
Persephone May 2018
And I wonder, "Am I just the glimmer in the river reflecting someone else's light?"
I'm to much like other people that I don't even know how much of me is me anymore.
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
Full

again
the moon
perched
atop
a darkened
plank of cloud
floating
in iridescent
river of sky

again
the moon
pregnant
with
the sun’s
light
round full
lake of fervor

again
the moon
opalescent
in
the stars’
glimmer
silver frosted
ocean of ecstasy

again

                        the moon...
A rerun of a poem from last April - though renamed.

April’s Full Moon, the Full Pink Moon, heralds the appearance of the “moss pink,” or wild ground phlox—one of the first spring flowers. It is also known as the Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and the Fish Moon.
These names were not invented by The Old Farmer’s Almanac. They were used by early Colonial Americans—who learned the names from the local Native Americans; time was not recorded by using the months of the Julian or Gregorian calendar. Many tribes kept track of time by observing the seasons and lunar months, although there was much variability. The name itself usually described some activity that occurred during that time in their location.
Tsunami Mar 2018
he
ripped my skirt off my thighs
my breath from my lungs
my virginity, a prize

rings caught on cheekbones
the sound of sighs
air filled with moans

lights reflecting of our skin
his horns catch glimmers
but only spread shadows

such a deadly sin
a stone cold killer
*** with the devil
*** is the devil
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