Ever,if we meet under the canopy of coincident Your collars shall be on the verge To be plucked out by me With the 'good-girl nails' plunged into your flesh I promise, I'll get the red in you,out,oozed Soon will turn you Sapphire blue Neither your counters Nor roughness would chase that of mine Now then you shall be Kisna's pigment I shall embellish a Peacock's feather on your unkempt hair design Your hair that you've nurtured in masculine style Torn apart and your face wet in wild wine splashed back to conscious mind A smile for witnessing you mad at me But anyway vengeance was mine.
Peacocks are so festive we live for things so precious I feel we need more time in a spiritual sense the Nirvana was a God of beauty touching her feathers the soul it's in many forms the heaven saves us lives inside of us for eternity
Where the peacock paints the green into the gardens with her crown jewels of blue, She stayed there longer to watch the plumage of hues. A canvas full of colours that are very loud, Is this is what makes you so proud?
Funny how you cannot see your own beauty in the colours that are true, Instead you see them in ultraviolet, not your royal blue! She can clearly see, she had eyes, Strutting conspicuously, it walked away showing off it’s prize. It thrived where others merely survived, and never ceased to leave them mystified.
She felt like a splash of brown and grey in a room full of vibrant peacocks, Never realised how time flies with the ticking of the clocks. For even though she couldn’t fly, at least she knew she had tried.
The petals of the rose Draw all the attention away from the thorns It is fascinating how a single flower can be so beautiful Yet contain a hint of ugliness in it to Just like the peacock Which has a million stunning feathers on its tail Drawing attention away from its feet It saddens the peacock itself When it compares its beauty to the deformity it contains Nothing is perfect in this world Dont expect it to be If these beautiful creations contain imperfection Remember somewhere we are also flawed
If I were a peacock, I would blue-green iridescent burst beauty pretty would not mean strange or weak brightness would be bravery, screaming LOOKING THIS GOOD IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN SAFETY FROM PREDATORS I would love my women drab, concealable, nearly invisible ... maybe some of us are already part peacock
If I were a leopard slug, I would never worry if I was man enough I would love all of my hermaphroditic glands equally or, more realistically, I would be ashamed of all of them equally, never sure if my gonopore was symmetric enough, if my translucent blue-white ***** was beautiful enough to ever intertwine and bloom with another's there would be no gay bars or marriage equality movements or swallowed-wink "no ****"s no one would tap around your abdomen in search of the right organs before declaring your birthright aptitude in cooking or car repair you and I, we would follow each other around all night, exchanging playful licks, before impregnating each other, circus-suspended from a tree branch ... I guess that part would be the same
If I were cricket or frog or songbird, my music would be my perfect gift to you. I would learn guitar and start a band and everyone would love me (way more than the bass player)
in a room full of peacocks i am now an ostrich and i don't know if any of you know how it feels to be a splash of grey in a room full of brilliant blues and greens it's like being a lonely, pitiful cloud against a blue sky with leafy trim maybe i have my head in the sand because i don't want to be shallow but you'd be right if you guessed it's because i actually don't want to be seen when my face looks like this which is such a cowardly thing to do (i really shouldn't care) i read Journey to the Center of the Earth in middle school, and the only thing i remember is that it was the volcanoes that erupted (like the hives that erupted across my face this past week) that led them to find it- the heart of life and natural beauty; more breathtaking than the flawless plumage of the peacocks