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Amaris Oct 8
My hair is black and yours is yellow
But they never call it that;
Blonde, or like spun gold
Stunning, precious, unattainable.
But you have it,
Like I’ll never have you.
My hair is black but my skin
Is yellow
They call it that
“Slant-eyed”, “foreign”, “unnatural”
At eighteen, I broke black locks with bleach
(I’ve always wanted to be blonde)
And it didn’t look natural at all
I will never be blonde, I will always be
They ask: What are you?
“American, like you”
But they roll their eyes
They tell me to forget my native language
And I don’t know how to tell them I already am
Black and yellow
I think of me then think of bees, and recall
Being stung in the first grade, and how
Ever since, I’m paralyzed at the thought
Of black, and yellow
Black and yellow
Save the bees! on shirts and posters
But no one is saving me.
lok-hing Oct 7
a spark igniting a wildfire.
we occupy, we burn, we bleed
yellow; we're crying tears of pain
from getting kicked down, no time to breathe.
we're fighting a battle against the odds.

let's stand together
under the yellow umbrella
under the dark and gloomy skies.
stand up, add oil, stand strong.

unmasked, we're leaving
square traces of our existence
on walls of conflict built from scratch.
this could be a last stand
but it won't be our swan song.

let's stand together
under the yellow umbrella
under the dark and rainy skies.
they've bled yellow for us before,
now we must take up the banner.
dedicated to the students of hk who are protesting. be water, add oil, never forget what you fight for.
Leah Oct 4
Yellow wasn’t always my favourite colour, but I once read that Vangogh swallowed yellow paint in an effort to know happiness;
      so I chose to be that for people.
You could chew me up and spit me back out and I’d still shine for you.

But when the skies are overcast,
and the clouds weep;
and you hear the thunder roll in,
I’ll be the yellow paint you swallow.
Only this time, the happiness stays,
and you don’t have to cut your ear off
in order to win my heart.

I may be my own yellow now, but I’ll be the colour of sunshine for you too.
we walk through the garden
the one beside the house with the yellow door
watching the geese lay in their pond
then we look up at the night sky
gazing the wonders that are the stars
and you start singing
la vie en rose

the water ripples
you start skipping stones
the long grass brushed against our ankles
as if it were a cat, rubbing its head on us

the grass left a mark on my shoes
but it’s all right
because you left a mark on my heart.
Elizabeth Sep 27
I am from yellow houses. The ones with green shutters and vines growing along the sides. I am from rainy weather with umbrellas to big to hold in my small, weary, hands. I am what I am. I am unloveable and complex but loved and solved at the same time. I am an open book but one that remains closed until someone comes along and open me, reading each page, some colorful and others just blank. I am a story worth telling and an experience worth sharing, some good, others not so much. I am from sunflowers and freshly cut grass. I am a blank page but I can easily be marked. I am what I am. I am from linen sheets and warm laundry. I hope to be less of a burden than I am. The youngest child, the one parents hope turn out alright. I am from tears and broken hearts. But I am also from sunshine and glasses half full. I am artwork that hangs on walls and painted in murals, ones you can’t glance at just once. I am from cold winters and warm homes during them. I am what I am. I am from clothing too big to fit my tiny body and fresh apples too small to fit my empty stomach. I am what I am.
Where I’m from
myrrh Sep 15
Light crawls in through the curtains
Stains the floor in shades of yellow & white
Sets pools of obscurity bright
As the sun retires from our sight
Twilight cometh, like one's mind at night
Lace Sep 9
The color yellow is
The color yellow is
Heavy and hard
The color yellow is
Panic and pain
The color yellow is
Nightmares and not
Being able to breathe
The color yellow is
Images glued to the
Inside of my brain
The color yellow is
Drastically changing
The color yellow is
Transforming into
Instead of
The world is such a dark place,
Even if you tried, you couldn't make it brighter.
So accept the fact that all that's left,
Is a pack of cigarettes and a yellow lighter.
A "poem" every day.
Your father loved
More than he knew
To express to you
Felt his ghost
In each
In each
Red hot byte
Looking back
More time
With you
But no
Looking back
Spicy Jalapeño Burger
Combo 11
Dave Thomas founded Wendys un
He diez at age 69
I learned this after
Writing the
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