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N Mar 2020
An eyelash stuck
on my left cheek,
she gently removes it
and tells me to make a wish

Her fingers smell like
orange peel and the sun

Her mouth tastes like
citrus and rose water

When she left I peeled an orange,
and wiped away the salty tears
with my citrus fingers

And with every eyelash
that fell on my wet cheek,
I whispered a wish
for her to come back
Dream Fisher Feb 2020
I pulled my colors from their storage
Red, blue, yellow, purple, green, and orange
The case they sat was old,
With rust and squeaky hinges.
Painting fruit: Grapes, apples, and oranges
******* the colors up through syringes,
Precision causing anxious twinges.
Picturing perfect afterimages
But my art just makes me cringe.
I rhyme well but, shouldn't try to paint an orange,
Placing my supplies back in storage.
Bhill Feb 2020
dimensions of all mentalities seems to be on hold
the blindness that has succumbed the nation is epidemic
will a cure exist while we still have time to breathe
will the orange fog triumph in the end
will the dimensions ever see normal perceptions again

Brian Hill - 2020 # 42
Well?
Francie Lynch Dec 2015
Donald has a comb-over.
******, a funny moustache.
Hair Donald?
Heil ******!
I despise mentioning ******'s name in a poem.
I despise mentioning Donald's name in a poem.
Liz Jan 2020
He was the aura of autumn
With a beard of falling leaves
He was guarded from the cold
With his long orange sleeves

He was the aura of autumn
With a brisk walk into battle
He was alone in the cafe
I heard the doorbell rattle

He was the aura of autumn
With a hand on his case,
Coffee in the other
And fogged glasses on his face.
11/7/19
Asominate Jan 2020
A hue of three
We princes stand
A half, a child, and one a man

The prince of blue
Collected, calm and cold
Died to the red hue
So've we've been told

The citrian prince
Mind; heart of child
Pure innocence
Energies wild

Red prince, of passion and love
To self his own
A brethren fell at his shove
Thus becoming grown
The three known princes of the Isle of Calm Calamities
Star BG Jan 2020
In mental compartment of mind
a delicate balance must be found.
Boxes of memories are stacked
careful not to tip them
Careful to stack into their
color coded container.

Red for past pain
Blue for sadness that forsaken me
Green for money had lost and had again.
Purple for people who come and go.
Yellow for happy thoughts to fly in mind.
Orange for moments of change needing to accept.
Pink for memories of play with inner child.
Indigo for dreams seeded for future.

A mental compartment in mind, I carry.
And sometimes they tumble only for me
to re examine, cry,
and make a rainbow.
Inspired by Temporal Fugue-a fine poet
Ed C Dec 2019
skin the citrus off the husk
and stain your hands
with the tangy sap
with hands around my throat
let me **** the orange
off your bones
peel an orange for me
and i will never love you more
split it
half ways
like sticky stringy thighs
let me drown
on orange juice
Star BG Dec 2019
When I see RED a-top of rainbow, I think of the promise made to self of moving with beating heart inside my own divinity.

As I look at ORANGE, streaming cross sky
I think about being optimistic, as I move
to celebrate day.

When I gaze at the YELLOW that mirrors sun, I feel energized and warm from singing birds who whisper compassion.

As I see GREEN, deeply I breath to find open field of dreams ready for harvested inside the magic of moment.

When I observe BLUE, before eyes my consciousness expands to move as if sky is a dance floor and I am graceful cloud.

As I see PURPLE, a beautiful flower opens, and I become bee singing with love inside natures music.

And when PINK in child-like mind, is visualized choose to echo gratitude for the gift of life.
saw some you tubes of color and this poem sprouted. :)
Druzzayne Rika Dec 2019
I am seeing the colours
Mixing and blending
Without outline
All lines blurred
I can't see you
Red, orange and blue.
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