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EP Robles Nov 2021
Do you see me?  I am running with the peacocks.
They are the Peahens protecting their eggs
and i a part of the harem mating.  Forget
the beauty of our plumage -- we will **** anyone
who tries to get our eggs.

:: 11.16.2021 ::
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2021
Dull grey starlings come
Parade on gardens not won
Never too soon— gone
Bohemian Mar 2019
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.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
Her pure thoughts "Ever Smiling" he spiritual

feathered me down

I was on the other side of Spiritual

Bird-like town

I saw the Robin Renewal her tail

through different time

So Subline like the Eight Folds my path

His hands met my heart vine

Birds were singing
Goddess telegraph

How he mapped my tweets
of the graph

Such immortality eyes feather

whispers Imagery

White Peacock of Nirvana
hearing Awwi

Another bam Kaboom and a thumb

All of a sudden in Peacock race

Forestal Gump a box to preach

Then a hoot and scream what a screech

Like some spiritual God came to her

Peacock of heaven her speech flew her

Her Roaring waters feather our soul

Her miles of vision mystical playful

Madonna his love danced to a fling

Oh! Donna changed dark bird took her

Ballerina wings Belladonna brought her wing

like marine of Godly water

The lady perked up like a Primadonna

The Peacocks became her gift his

feathers move to her heart

she was vibrant feathered and note

I love you to the end of the sea part

Ladybird garlands like a Holiday gift

He smiled at her held her wings

what a decadent moment both smiles

to lift
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
Seán Mac Falls May 2017
Dull grey starlings come
Parade on gardens not won
Never too soon— gone
Wordsinalign Apr 2017
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.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2016
*Dull grey starlings come
Parade on gardens not won
Never too soon— gone
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2016
Dull grey starlings come
Parade on gardens not won
Never too soon— gone
Shazia ullah Dec 2015
Beauty vs beast

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
anonymous Dec 2015
If I were a peacock,
I would blue-green iridescent burst beauty
pretty would not mean strange or weak
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)

But I am a man.
I don't know what that means yet.
second in the series; first was
ending needs work. feedback appreciated.
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