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yuyu Jun 16
The pink rose that you gave,
Has always been alive,
Never wilted from my heart,
Because it has always been you

My comfort has always been you,
Because you would always knew,
Even without any words,
You would always be there,
Even when I was not

The pink rose that you gave,
Blooms a garden of joy,  
Rushes the bees to work,
Wakes the butterflies
in my stomach

Do you remember
When we were in the pink rose fields?
You were my best view,
I want you to know,
That you will always be

Your eyes greet me with a smile,
Everytime and every while
Our eyes meet,
I can feel the love
Deep inside your brown eyes.

My love,
Thank you,
For the pink rose
cheerful love that we both experience, the comfort and love that I received from you was the best experience ever
Maria Mitea May 21
april,
full pink moon,
it snowed yesterday, and still today
many
many clouds of light, like a

statue

i wonder if the light remembers itself,
if the moon knows when it's called  (by nasa) the supermoon  or the pale moon,
when it brings frost, rain,
*******,
ovulation
if it takes any credits,

last week at the corner of my house the storm ripped apart half a tree,
does it remember where?
does it remember the putrefied roots, dry branches blown by the wind,
does it remember the one that still fights,

i look out the window,

the cat jumps from branch to branch, plays with the blue jays,
who memorizes who? initially, it seems, that the cat is provoking the birds,
squatting on a thicker branch awaits the next move,
i have my moments too,
i understand, the truth never barks,
and does not caress you like a kind mother
it also doesn't  kiss you where you want to be kissed

for thousands of years,

it is rumored that many know it, but
the raw reality is that truth is autistic,
the gifted child
genuinely likes the same food, the same road, the same coat,  color,
stops at the red pass when is green, it simply knows what is right,
like a donkey clings to the same people,
roars at the same gate,

it is the only one equipped with the kick under the belt,
it  hits the careless on the scruff,
the rest on the forehead, in the belly,
it hits with a  fist,  feet,  or sledgehammer, like a rumble of  thunder,  a bomb,
it bites by the ear, by the nose,
it's mike tyson,  the greatest puncher of all time,

despite it all

net theater, all kinds of reinvented creatures, weird characters talking about the belt,
they want to abort it and  flutter it on the (right) cheek of jeofrrey de peyrac,
more than likely, to cover the cracks in the palace of culture (the experts
explaining: it is an adaptation response to fresh rehabilitation),

no joke

the truth has nothing to do with adaptation, those in  trend, the saviors of the world,
a boomerang doesn't know about smart people, bullies, or others…

a boomerang is a boomerang

try to make a bow from a boomerang, or a parachute
and you'll have princess diana's headache on her  wedding day; migraine sweet migraine
cancer, brain tumors,
titmouse constipation, broken teeth on TV,
viol in viol, - in,

i don't want to write about what I have  in mind,
i know nothing (tell yourself: big deal), and
i don't want to wash my brain with your memorized truth

*
reality is much harsher than a halloween decorated pumpkin,
when memory mocks you
every morning you wake up smaller and smaller
a shrimp,
stretching back and forth like tasteless chewing gum
promising
hailstones solidified between tangible and inaccessible
free play up and down the column
abandoned (does not mean we are free from mistakes, and responsibilities)
whether we happen or not, all that is not only ours
here or there we are bubble-to-bubble
missing
the freedom with respect to destiny
...
but how about the parrot?
when the truth happens like the full moon, live
în pink flesh
once a month
ones a year,
per century,
once in the millennium
...
Gabriel Apr 21
i have started to see my life
in shades of pink.
these days, it's all sunsets
and grapefruits
and a little extra blush
on a summer evening.

my life has never been
pink before. i have hit every pixel
on the colour wheel,
but never pink. never
smoked salmon mornings
and raspberries for lunch
and cranberry lemonade.
never happy; now happy.

one day soon, my life will be purple
as usual. close to blue,
closer to red, hitting the sweet
spot and resting there. close
to pink. closest to pink.
one day, when mania is over
and summer evenings
become autumn afternoons,
i will keep the pink in my pocket
and carry it everywhere.
Pieces of a woman
Gloom, glee, distance and intimacy
Attitude, gratitude, strength and vulnerability
Heartbreaks, Happiness, Longingness and poetry
Calmness, boldness and a bad *** stree.

Pieces of a woman
Stretch Marks, cellulite, miscarriages and then bossy
Shallow, Intense, blur and then some glossy
Cute, cheerful, lazy, sane and naughty
Benevolent, bizarre, shy and much hotty

Pieces of a woman
Family, friends, kin, acquaintances
Risk, safe and then out of the world chances
Society, sub-urb,rural and them glances
Some music, some writing, some shying and couple dances

Pieces of a woman
Marriage, adoption, career and grace
Clarity,focus,concentration and haze
Red,green, black, purple and beige
Independence, freedom, self-doubt and cage

All this and endless…..
And then some and then some
Nothing can totally define
The ultimate human
The beautiful, the wonderful
Pieces of a woman.
Just gave a thought to pieces of a woman on Women's day
Zywa Jan 13
A circle of pink

petals spreads around the bush --


fully packed with buds.
Collection "Freend"
Raven Feels Nov 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, make the last month count<3

reasoned reasonably to the reason
if it doesn't work congratulations self-treason
blames are things for the air to worry
& my mind isn't the place to be sorry
back in fancy blacks & charming winks
them feels a gift so make them pink
what's past is indifferenced past
& dreams become a truth to an optimist's last
                                                                      -------ravenfeels
Kassan Jahmal Oct 2021
I was without a map;
Searching my purpose
Stuck behind the peers;
Sitting in a Pink Taxi cab

Always stuck in the past;
Without my heart's fire,
I must of run out of gas.

All troubles on my back;
Thinking time to unpack.

With all collective items,
things in life I never had;
Penning down thoughts

In unread poem forms,
All in my old notepad.

Prayers feel their dammed;
Wellbeing isn't in demand.
Waiting to be pulled in;

Like waiting ocean sands.

So I'm riding off to nowhere;
towards a No man's land
With a lack of confidence;
As I'll get there in this,  

                       Pink Taxi cab.
Valya Oct 2021
Life is pink
Pink flowers, pink leaves, pink people
How could I not love all of this
Everything is accented
Even the dew hints at pink shimmers
And you,
You SHINE in this pink glow
How could you ever do anything wrong
When everything you do seems so right
And the pink glare hides anything I wouldn't like
So I get to live in my perfect pink fantasy
Hopeless romantic thingz???
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