Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Eternity Nov 7
once crisp
vibrant
orange hue so bright
a half eaten carrot stick
in dim twilight.
nibbled edges
now softened
sweet
paused in its journey
not quite complete.

forgotten amidst chatter and tales
shared among friends
as laughter prevails
it sat on a plate
a small sacrifice,
to moments of joy
and life's simple spice

in the fridge's cold embrace it waits
a witness to time
and the closing of gates.
yet in its stillness
it holds the lore
of dinners past
and moments more

a humble root
with much to give
even half-eaten
it yearns to live
in soups or salads
it finds its place
a half eaten carrot stick
full of grace

and when it is eaten
it is no more
but its place is in my stomach
the vibrance no more
im doing a race wi/ my friend @Nobody1234 (Follow him! He's amazing) to get 200 views on trending with a random poem. Gemme there first!
Malia Jan 19
Don’t call me pretty.

I am not a delicate
Rose to be plucked
At your fleeting desire.

𝘕𝘰.

I am
Visceral
Venomous
Vibrant.

I am not a willow
Bending in the time
Of your gusts.
A pastel shade
Of pink, meant to be
Seen, but not noticed.

𝘕𝘰.

Don’t you realize?

𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦.
I S A A C Apr 2022
I need a wishbone or a loophole
sick of you and this old soup bowl
I thought this plague would fade away
I thought your chest was my favourite place
tarot cards led me astray, I guess
I try to never compress, I try to focus on my dress
a ring that makes me smile or a vibrant hue
anything to forget about you
how about when you made butterflies erupt in my stomach
how about when you made me think I knew what love is
floating on the shipwreck waiting to be brought to shore
these moments allowed me to process and plan
for my next project, my next attack
you thought you could beat me down
think again
I S A A C Aug 2021
my thoughts are tangled like your hair
flashbacks of that euphoric night at the fair
spilling out our guts underneath the setting sun
oranges, pinks, and violets fill the sky
your diction tickles my mind
underneath the violet skies and your arm around me tight
a dream, never thought I would wake up
but then I did and the ground I hit hard
but then you did everything you knew would rip us apart
I tried to stitch and mend the pieces
I tried to pitch new ideas
I tried to rip my own heart so you could finally feel again
but we will never feel again, the way we felt
the cards are dealt, this is the end of us
never liked to say goodbye but you were never mine
just two ships that crossed underneath the setting sun that night
Lawrence Hall Jun 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                        No One is Your Vibrant Stereotype

One’s words and one’s friends are not tuning forks
They do not vibrate, and are thus not vibrant
Nor are they folksy, colorful, or quaint
Curiosities for you to collect

Poetic verse is free of DNA
An iamb suffers no identity
It boldly speaks its rhythm clear and strong
And metric feet march to their own chosen beat

But

If you feel that any culture should vibrate
Then go sit on yourself and just…rotate
A poem is itself.
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
Vibrant streaks of green and blue and violet twist in your eyes, like a
beautiful galaxy and I want nothing more than to catch each shooting star and leave my wishes on your lips.
I'm not sure that this is a poem but rather a pretty thought. It was written in 2016.
Erian Rose Dec 2020
as the planets inch closer,
stardust trembles.
lights of green hues
and vibrant blues
dance overhead.
I'll follow the north star
over mountainscapes,
oceans,
and everything in between
to be with you.
Kaliya Skye Nov 2020
is my mood ring broken?
or did i forget what it felt like
to know you?

i often wonder if i've numbed to it all,
but maybe my heater just stopped working.

all the same, i've forgotten the sound
of my name on your lips,
the air passing through, like a parting kiss.

so why let it be spoken at all?

is my mood ring broken?

all i'm feeling is small.
my phone screams, but there is no voice
even the silence burns my ears nowadays.
Julia Shalom Sep 2020
That morning Glory
Which children spread.
Over earth and sky,
Lingers like secret sunshine.
Permeating a multitude of roofs,
A multitude of rooms.

On oceanside grey,
Their precious feet tread.
Bringing refresh of light,
With every laugh.
I gaze at the sand,
With remnant proof that
Children of light walked here.
When I am still,
The Wind brings me
Whisper of their joy.

Giggling brooks,
Shining stars,
Vibrant flowers of the field,
Cannot compare
To the sweet music
Of Child's contagious laughter,
And the light God gave them,
Shining clear through their eyes of bright.
The first paragraph has some themes inspired by G.K. Chesterton's book on Saint Francis of Assisi.
Next page