whispers across my face
as the day's last sun
bends the knee in grace
—barely audible sigh
orange starts the scatter
of God's own choosing
like a thief
steals the light
I recorded this as a spoken word poem via YouTube as well awhile ago....
i want to travel the world one color at a time
...see the color of the first sunrise
...sip black tea on London rain
...linger at the heart of the Big Apple
...gaze at the pink skies of California
...cliff dive into the Aegean blue sea
...marvel at the green grass of the African safari
...get lost in the land with the whitest snow
...witness the sunset in Rio
...travel in space and walk the gray surface of the moon
but i’d rather pull all the shades and wander the great indoors
where the color of comfort is...
my unmade bed
i'll travel the world with words instead
It’s the little things that really catch you unprepared
She had lipstick on her front tooth
I found it to be love for me that I wasn’t allowed to witness
I should have told her but it became my secret
A treasure I will take with me to the beyond
I couldn’t help but smile every time she talked, a small pink would peak out on that canvas of white
Loud trains, walking shoppers and endless white noise
Yet all I could focus on was that millennial pink that I didn’t deserve
The greatest layer of color I will ever witness
A clumsy mistake but with what intentions?
The color won’t reveal its secrets
but it left a smile on my face
I wonder if the filed of lavender
sighs when it yearns for her scent
I wonder if the sunflowers
worship her raven hair
like the sun
I wonder if the moon weeps
with longing over her absence
I wonder if the sky turns pink
when the spring breeze
touches her silky skin
I wonder if the cherries bleed in her
mouth like my heart when she left
You were fresh out of September
Dewdrops touching my face
a bright day
A sunny smile
the star lighting me up
A patch of pink and blue
but with rainy nights
and windy breezy evenings
The sweaters of November
will suit you too.
slowly works and demonstrates the kimono opening
the color of a white rabbit's eyes. the color of painted nails and his favorite shade of baby lips. the color of burnt skin and old scars. the color of the sky right before the sun sets and over-ripe strawberries. the color of childhood.
the color of me
Often times in my orchard...
I see her moving in graceful steps of bellet in a baby pink tulle skirt...
The wind carries her from the ground to the sky... Like a playful lover blowing kisses of affection...
Her essence is ether...and her heart a lovely gathering of bonded petals...
Her bee buddies always seem to cling to her... humming to her tales of colorful lands...
She baths in hiding of chilled dew and contours her cheeks in divine pink...
I wonder if the holy earth sprouted her or an angel from the sky... for her beauty seems neither of heaven nor of the earth...
Whatever be her origins or her source of grace...the heart reaches out to her in dark times...
To lead me to the way of light...
Slowly and stealthily through the steps of pink!
Another of my flower poems!
In love with Camellia! ❤
it will always haunt me
she lost her shirt
the shirt i always wanted
the shirt i can still see sitting in
“hot mess” in white letters, cracking from the wash
her ******* shirt.
thats all i could think about during the funeral.
her shirt, her hot mess shirt.
he was carrying the coffin
it was extra heavy from the tears.
i raised my head and all i saw was dusty pink, floating through the church.
pink casket, pink flowers, pink blanket laid across her steel bed.
pink like her gaudy pink boots
pink like her cheeks
pink like her favorite drink
pink like her
**** the blue shirt, i want her back.