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Daniel Feb 4
My hands over handles and the studded upholstery
Reflective and cold as the strangers come close to me

Swaying like passengers stood on a boat
I'm fleetingly heartened by the accents I know

Picking them out of the bullying crowds
We're hurrying past unfamiliar towns

The streetcorners, bridges and shops that they know
Serenely suffused by a summery glow

The picturesque places they lazily go,
like postcards or paintings delivered back home

I'm rolling on by their entire other lives
Their lot on my mind and to them unbeknownst

Like a rousing of wind which as suddenly goes
For a moment we had almost been close
Words' Worth Jan 2019
First of the part of the journey
The sea washes
The sand castle
In a hassle of moist touches
Shaping my future like God's touches
I feel blessed
As the empty red sunset sky watches
Looks like the faces of the dirt and the dust
Lay the waste to the degrees of the deserted fields
Cause the spring time rains on the
Heads on the bickering rabble of the lost civilizations
Where has out water gone?
Where is our respect?
Smirking MAGA kid convicted of arrogance
Pretend to be docile to bring out the silence
In your enemy
Provoke disgrace by being free
Out of the trees
Of last vicars
That make the yellow tainted spruce
Meant for the civilized truth
Darkness cannot drive out darkness
Only love can do that
Willing is not enough. We must apply. We must do.
Martin Narrod Nov 2018
You have come out less who you are. You have given up on your tiny screen, maybe for that chance at your mother’s arms. Maybe that’s me, or maybe we’re both a little far away from knowing who you are: a giant queen of ease visiting strangers hearts. We know things, but to hear ourselves speak we’d need to scream
Out louder than the Red Spot afar. It was a tiny joy to feel, to feel you’d chosen me to shepherd us through the stars. This map worn with your grief leads to a hemlock branch strung hammock where I imagine laying in today’s grand autumnal festivities.
In a place where pain and disease run off together, and don’t stop to think where you and I might be.

In this world where we are
In this world where they gave you a chance
At giving up on who you were.

We were sitting out beside the sea, given a spot of almond milk to go with our tea, it was pouring art and raining beliefs, it had finally given you a chance to breathe, a child free to live without despair’s feral fiends.

Twirling, through verdant orchards caught by envies gleaned by greens’ motif.

This is not the place where I died
But rather the place I learned to stop worrying and learned to love my life.
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
Pay green.
All that you've seen
      this      year.
To come. . .
What's to come?
To come. . .

Got black?
Pay black.

Not black?
Get black.

Pay green.
All that you've ever
      seen      or   ever      will   see.
To come. . .
What's to come?
To come. . .

Indication. I'm a bad itch.
I'm worse than that --
I'm deliberate in
the gears that I turn,
year after year.

I'm a depressive *****
in a dark descent
from the spring spearmint
to an autumnal orange,
set in a somber sky,
to a familiar black.
Nikos Kyriazis Oct 2018
Suddenly, the silence prevails
and approaches me with a verdant orb
in it's hands

The cold wind is passing by
gesturing my reverie

Sometimes harshly
like frozen needles piercing
your naked body

Sometimes softly
like sun beams clasping
your naked soul

Around me blooms
of every hue and for every mood
Each one narrates it's own tale

My shadow revolves around
a cold emerald
I am that colour now
It escorts me to the carriage
of the winter I was longing for
Kriti Mishra May 2017
Wrap me in teals, corals and turquoise of the oceans,
Envelop me in veils of azure,
Drape me in verdant hues of the forest,
Swathe me in the crimson of sunsets,
Embroider my robes with fuchsia, amber and plum,
Hide twinkling diamonds in the folds to play hide-and-seek like stars on a cloudy night,
Nestle amidst my tumbled chestnut, bronze hair,
Emeralds, sapphires, amethysts and pearls,
Woven together with gossamer threads of cool silver and sun-drenched gold,
Tuck away violets, jasmines and orange blossoms into my crown,
Cocooned in their sweet fragrance,
Cloaked in Nature's splendor,
Leave me in solitude,
Where the skies embrace the seas,
Away from the rusty hues of blood and steel,
From ash, charcoal and misery,
From drab taupes, dingy olives and mousy browns of normalcy,
Let me revel in jewel tones,
Colors as flamboyant as me.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2015
Truths under Suns' eye
Tapestries, seedlings and bloom
Lies a garden vale
Cori MacNaughton Jun 2015
Gorgeous,
verdant,
with more waterfalls
than any other state
This was the third of seven poems I wrote this morning, 24 June 2015.

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