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Vedo la luce di un lampione,
in fondo alla via.

Dall'alto.

Non voglio illumini da sola la strada.
Non riesce bene.
Non è serena.

Lei non è fioca.
Ma non è viva.

È giallina,
ma d'un giallo che non sceglieresti mai
tra i pastelli colorati.

L’asfalto crepato, le erbacce secche, le case vuote,
ciò che illumina è familiare.
Ma non amico.

Non deve esser molto contento,
quel lampione,
come un padre che osserva, immobile,
il figlio morente.

Vorrei potesse andarsene
da quella staticità.

Da quella strada.

Da quel nulla.

///

I see the light of a street lamp,
at the end of the street.

From above.

I don't want it to light up the road by itself.
It doesn't work well.
It's not serene.

It's not dim.
But it's not alive.

It's yellowish,
but a yellow you'd never choose
among colored crayons.

The cracked asphalt, the dry weeds, the empty houses,
what it illuminates is familiar.
But not friendly.

It must not be very happy,
that street lamp,
like a father who watches, motionless,
his dying son.

I wish it could go away
from that staticity.

From that street.

From that nothingness.
Written looking out the window in midnight
Yoh Esters Apr 13
𝓘 placed a bookmark in our book.
𝓛eveled enough space on the shelf.
Hoping 𝓸ne day when our paths cross again.
We have 𝓿entured through enough stories.
And 𝓮volved to where it’s finally okay to release it.
𝓨earning to let everyone experience it.
So when that day finally c𝓸mes.
And when the world ask about yo𝓾.
I’ll hand them our book and let them journey into our stories. I hope they can recognize the 8 letters I had hard time saying to you.
kim Apr 4
I walk into the yellow kitchen
Soft buzzes come from the refrigerator
It smells of rotten memories
Maggots shroud the sink drain
My mother stands by the burning stove
Cigarette in hand
Mosquitos glint in the hard light
The windows closed
Yet you could see
From the outside
Dark shadows
Deformed and tangled
Knots in my scalp
They hurt to think about
My mother itches to pull them out
The weeds on my head
Are untamed and reek
Of ash that falls
Faint glimmers of yelling
Sprinkle the ***** floor
Another inhale
More glimmers drown
The air in the kitchen
She turns off the stove
And yells at the smoke
Covering her hand
I cover my ears
At the sudden shriek
Tears fall as I realized
I hurt my mom.
I don't always write in such a way. I think I've just been in a mood lately. Give me your thoughts. Have a good day :)
Never will my yella leather weather,
Not in any measure,
Whether the weather,
Whatever the pressure,
My yella leather fails to weather,
It was made by the yella leather fellers.
A little tongue twister for you
Lal601948 Mar 4
My garden's full of daffodils.
Each border is a-groan with them.
And so are all my windowsills!
This sea of yellow flows and spills
Around, about each stalk and stem.
My garden's full of daffodils
Up to their ears in yellow frills!
The garden's quite an anadem.
And so are all my windowsills!
Not narcissi! No! Nor jonquils!
Or flower as dignified as them
My gardens full of daffodils
Each tidy border overspills
Blazing with ochre meristem
And so are all my windowsills!
The twentieth vase this arm full fills
I shall not plant this bulb again!
Mat garden's full of daffodils
And so are all my windowsills!
Lal Lewis (c) 2000
A Vilannelle
yellow is bubbly
sour and tasty
yellow is bright
yellow truthful

yellow is *****
yellow is oily
yellow is lonely

yellow is unfortunate
Leanne Feb 22
A simple jacket.
A simple gesture.
A knightly task.
To some may seem simple.
To me, it’s a taking off of a mask.
Has anyone ever taken such great care of you?
Making sure you’re warm and sheltered from the cold?
The simple gesture of putting my jacket on for me is very bold.
This is something that I’ve never had before.
Such a simple task  that was just for me.
I’m so lucky to spend these simple, sweet moments  with you the sweetest man.
Sweet gentleman and thier care for us<3
When I was 14 years old, I went to a thrift shop with my best friend.
It wouldve been late September, early October.
We were talking about our futures, when he mentioned that he didnt know my favorite color.

I told him to guess.

He pondered for a bit and then picked up a pair of pretty yellow converse and shouts out "Yellow!"
He looked so happy, I just nodded and said yes.

I would wear those converse every single day for the next 6 months, they would see as I fell head over heels in love with him.

I stopped wearing them in 2025 after my first attempt of the year.



Yellow is my favorite color.

i saw bits of it in everything after that.
saw it everywhere.

eventually that friend and i would grow apart.
meet new people
stop talking entirely

i will be told that i was an awful person

yet... yellow remains my favorite color.

those shoes still sit in my closet.
a testament to my unspoken love.
i will wear them periodically for the next 5 years until they burn in a fire i caused.

until then

yellow will always be my favorite color.
thinking of making this into a song
(a dream i had)
Zywa Dec 2024
Party-time today,

the world turns yellow: the stars --


my heart and my love.
Song "Yellow" (2000, Chris Martin, Coldplay), album "Parachutes" --- Film "Bird" (2024, Andrea Arnold)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
Madison Tomes Dec 2024
Gold sprinkles from the ceiling
Green seeps from my eyes
Scent of sweet water in the air
I feel fair in yellow
Head to toe
A monster of glistening lights
Im ugly yet you love me
I adore how money blinds
again experimenting with more styles and feelings.
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