I was watching the sunset
All of those different shades of orange
Made me want to
Have a whiskey
Less than five minutes was enough
For the sun to disappear in the sea
It let this orange color in the sky
After its tangerine and bright light
About to light off on our island
It made us feel dizzy and blind
Or maybe it was what we felt for each other
When I describe the air in the current season I never have the words to Articulate This feeling
A Season To Be Thankful
ready to be cut
Or perhaps molded into a maze for the little ones
Full of spice and flavor for you to smell
Or maybe just to be severed for your porch
Is crisp, refreshing
When you say “it’s nice outside,” this is to what you refer
Is nippy, full
On the edge of Sweaters
On days I have time I like to lay in the center of the field after practice and breathe
The air restores my soul, my hope
If nothing else, I love
IF NOTHING ELSE I LOVE
and maybe you:)
Extension of my last poem
Leave me in the past, leave me, I just want to be where I belong
Leave me in the woods, in the forest amongst the noble trees and sturdy grounds,
Leave me with the leaf that shuffles with the wind and hisses with the breeze,
Leave me in the cornfields, under the golden God that makes me feel different about myself.
Leave me when orange surpasses the green when yellow becomes so seen.
I want to be left alone with my simplicity and spontaneity,
I want to be left there away from the lights, gasps, and whispers …
I want to return to my old self, to when innocence controlled my words and smiles never left my face.
Leave me there, oh time and I’ll be just fine.
i giggle as i jump towards
the captivating light.
it ***** me in
like juice from an orange.
I like to think that
with tiny nourishing pips
which squish on my tongue
as I swallow.
All dressed up and waiting for summer,
a summer as strong and as fresh
as this perennial dress.
All made up and ready for life,
a life as bright and as perfumed
as this fragrant woman waiting to bloom.
'Wake me when summer comes.
'Stir me when the sweet zest rises and the sun can kiss me as with the dawn.'
Each September comes BEAT Borough of Ealing Art Trail - Art shown in artists homes. And each August poets are invited to write an accompanying poem to a piece of art. This is one of my BEAT poems.
Is there no understanding of history today
Are we going into a real Clockwork Orange
Why do we as people, have to repeat and believe
We repeat the worst historical times; blaming them on cycles
Cycles that we create in the name of anything, but the truth
We believe whatever feels right to our own personal thoughts
Beliefs, that are created out of misunderstood words and actions
Why, oh why, can't we ever learn
Why can't we do the right and truthful thing...?
Nobody was injured during this BRAIN RANT!!!
Agree or not... I don't give a sh}¥
Not really true because this made me cry
Well not cry. I just laughed so hard I cried
Just can't take the craziness without a little BRAIN RANT!
Sorry.... No, I'm not. Felt good!
“It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you watch them on a screen.”
― anthony burgess, A Clockwork Orange
Brian Hill - 2019 # 200
Is today's actions a cycle because we can't lean from our own tragic history?
Just a question for you all...