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The birds start singing early in the summer
I hear them before I’m fully awake
And the warm breeze rustles my curtains
And causes the leaves and flowers to shake

When I come downstairs, the sunbeams
Spread from the window onto the floor
And light the kitchen with an orange haze
When I unlock and open the door

We bring our coffee onto the porch
So we can watch the birds while we drink
And you peel a couple oranges for us
While we sit and talk and think

The citrusy smell fills the air
When you set the peels out to dry
You arrange the slices on the plate
And set it on my thigh

It reminds me of when I was little
From sunrise till sunset I’d play
And run to the porch to eat orange slices
To keep the hunger away
I've got an acting gig
coming up
in a couple of weeks.
I'll either play
Joe Goldberg
or some other serial killer.
I recorded myself
to practice
for when I get
the real deal.

My woman said
the first take was better
I also thought
It wasn't bad.

After that I went to the kitchen
I picked up an orange.
I have a strange way
of eating oranges
I slice it up like a plus sign
into four pieces
then I peel the bottom,
and then I put it in my mouth,
and do the rest with my teeth.
But sometimes I just
go in straight with my teeth
and I don't peel it at all
the juice from the orange
drips down my chin
makes its way through
my beard, it softly scans
the back of my hands
until it finally hits the counter.

I eat oranges
like I should eat
at any restaurant—
with no table manners.

I eat oranges the way I write
the way I make love to you
how I know you can be delicate
but I still take you
with my teeth in bed.

Even in the way I act.

I dedicate passion
in all that I do.
I give you all—
the ugly, the good,
God forbid
you admit
that the way I live
is *******
beautiful.
kim Apr 15
The smell of fresh oranges
Hit my nose
I look down
You pick and pull at the peel

The underside of your fingernails
Have residue
As you poked and stabbed
At the pure fruit

Sweet juice drips down your hand
You move your head down
And lick it up
Your unhesitant lick sends shivers down my spine

You see me starring from above
My face of utter disgust
As blood drips down my thighs
And I lay paralyzed.
Give me your thoughts. Have a good day :)
Kiki Apr 11
H
Pretty eyes,
Like big blue skies
You got me all,
Hypnotised.
Emery Feine Apr 6
I push my fear behind my eyes
Further back than I can see
My dream has been eaten by lies
But I am no fig tree

I'm an orange watching my brethren
Ants chewing on their rotting skin
Their future, I was supposed to share in
Their peel, greenish of sin

I'm watching a rotting fig tree
That I know someone must've seen before
I mouth her, she mouths me
Is this all I'm waiting for?

My future may be determined
A rotting orange is all it may be
I thought it was self-determined
But I am no fig tree.
"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip  of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."
Elo Apr 3
tawny leaf-littered
autumn's cold chill
amber sun, filtered
one tree, one hill

smoky-water rains
water scented earth
heart-loss pains
worms unearth'd

bristled seeds drift
sunset winds, rest
fluff and dust admidst
a heaving chest

sun-warmth falter
cloud coats gold
body upon an altar
everything turns cold
The colour orange speaks
In the dark sky their lights I saw
For the good of mankind
Not for All mankind
But for the man who is kind
Sean Achilleos
23 Feb. '25
orange is sweet
orange is sour
orange is the pretty tulip flower

orange is loving
orange is kind
orange is someone with a steady mind

orange is humble, orange is lonely
orange is wild
orange is homely.
Immortality Feb 10
Sunset kisses,
the ocean’s skin.
Orange light cradles,
in the waves' arms.
And the sky’s darkness,
finds a home,
in the ocean's heart.
Wish to see it someday, in reality....
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