#flamingo
I dress up
With nowhere to go
I look up high
To get hit down below
My life is constant
With nothingness
I'm a sparkle
In a void
Of boringness
I lay in bed and dream
As years pass me
I'm nearly thirty
And still
Never laughing
I love feathers
And sequins
Dancing in the evening
Glamor and stars
Colors and mars
Yet I'm stuck
Here
Where i want
To dissapear
I'm not wanted
I don't fit in
I don't want to fit in
Here
I want to dissapear
To a land
With love
And hues
Shining
No curfews
Eccentricity
And electric
That shocks
Every single
Bore
Away
So the shining flamingos
Can have a place to stay
Yet here i am
In my constant cave
Bored
And alone
Turning
Into stone
All i can do
Is cry
In my orange dress
Cry
in my pink wig
Cry til
Midnight
*** after that
I die
In the colorless-ness
Of my life
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 6:47 PM UTC
Flamingos are creatures of beauty
they tread lightly on this world
because they are not truly of it
their origin is celestial
some distant oasis
far flung between the stars
this is apparent
when one looks at a flamingo
the beauty one sees
is no ordinary
kind of beauty
it is the beauty of wisdom
a pure wisdom
not tainted by life
for flamingos don’t live
in the ordinary sense
they are eternal.
sure
you can own a flamingo
possess it even
lay your hands lustily upon it
and ruffle some feathers
beneath a flaming moon
but you can never
know its mind.
Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 10:56 AM UTC
Dancing for love like a flamingo,
But all I am is a collection of letting go...
Held by waves but lost in a tide,
Losing the memory of love—left behind...
Chasing it like crazy- up and above,
Realising i am the love i was rooting for...
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 10:47 PM UTC
Statuesque
On aluminum ripples
Soon to take flight.
Lawns will awaken
The sentries waiting
For summers calling.
Before sunset
The sky is an ocean
Of pink and white.
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
So late at night,
When the all the birds sleep,
An owl awakes,
With bigs eyes,
Eyes picturing you,
Waiting for you to rise from slumber,
An owl awakes...
Flamingo you are,
What more I can say,
Beautiful more than anyone,
A charming bird,
Ready to fly in the open sky,
Play with clouds,
Rise high and high,
Just don't forget this owl,
With open eyes,
Eyes with you in them,
Awake so late at night...
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
Charming vagabond with a smile so sweet
Sweeps her suitors off their feet
With a twirl of her skirt and a flash of her thigh,
She’s climbing the ladder, wooing lovers to the skies
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
Metamorphosis, tomorrow I become a mermaid,
From my dolphin love, a string of pink pearls,
and pink seashells, beautifully I'll be so adorned
and I shall be performing a sweet song of Love,
Just when an enchanting sunrise paints the sky
a flamboyant pink like a group of flamingo ,
Come listen, come listen to my violin concerto
All day long I shall be singing my song of Love
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
The starling is in need of help.
It believes its wings are dull and colorless,
It believes the other birds look down at it,
It believes it has no place.
It needs to learn,
learn that it does in fact have a position,
to be right next to the flamingo.
The flamingo can help it,
make it forget all of its insecurities.
Then the flamingo will finally be happy,
and the starling's mind will be at peace once more.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
The dove left awhile ago.
The flamingo stared as it flew away.
The sparrow sat silently,
watching and observing,
Knowing that eventually one would break.
What the flamingo doesn't know, hurts it.
The dove, in fact,has had its wings broken before.
It was said that the wings were broken to no repair.
The dove was paralyzed, could feel no pain.
It was numb, it was in vain.
The sparrow sat patiently on the side.
It helped the dove get back in line,
Time was the true healer.
The sparrow watched as the dove failed,
The sparrow watched as the dove grew,
The most important part,
is that the dove overcame.
Even the sparrow thought there was no return,
though it never said it, it believed it.
Until one day, the sparrow looked out,
and saw the dove flying away.
The dove had healed, the dove was free.
The numbness went down and it began to see.
Now, this is a message for the flamingo to hear,
The sparrow has everything to fear.
The dove never wanted to fly away and not come back,
Yet the flamingo desires exactly that.
The dove was able to overcome their pain,
so I believe the flamingo can do the same.
It takes time, it takes patience,
but in the end, it is worth it.
The world will be clearer, and the flowers brighter.
The sparrow can not wait,
until the day the flamingo can fly away.
But to fly away with its own wings,
with its own strength,
to have overcome this obstacle,
and finally be free.
The sparrow will wait patiently for that day,
Helping all the way.
The flamingo will soar high,
not has high as the heavens,
because it will be low enough to where it can fly back,
Back to where the sparrow sits patiently,
for the help it can give once more.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
I introduced the birds to the flock
the dove was awkward, the sparrow, excited
but the falcon towered
and the partridge left
and the starling was left to cry
with the eagle just standing by
and who, you ask, who, who am I?
I am the flamingo.
Do I belong?
Not I.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
I rose with chilled air of dawn.
Holding the baby sun on my palm
I ponder at his mystery of liquefaction,
That spreads the hidden gold of Eldorado
Over my shivering shoulders.
I wish if I were a flamingo
Waiting on one leg
For the perfect moment of sunrise,
To dissolve all of my tints of pink
With his melted gold
On the blue lagoon of Galapagos.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
I am the young girl running around the house,
looking for the pony,
on Christmas morning,
while the ship is slowly sinking,
in a manure flavored sea.
I am the armless tennis player that
is convinced he will defeat Roger
in less than an hour,
using just one ball, over and over again.
I am Roy Wright at the beginning of the trial,
with a big stupid smile in my pocket,
and a tinny black book in my soul.
I am the faithful survivor of unfaithfulness
and I will be the one that lands on his feet,
in Scottsboro heaven.
I am Bartolomeo V, the one with no vendetta,
having a croissant,
waiting for Nicola to shave, before we take off in one of
Rothko's paintings. May the 5th be
with the ones who actually did it.. and, you know what?
I honestly think Cronaca Sovversiva is a great title,
even though I haven't read the ******
thing and I have no sympathy,
whatsoever, for any anarchist.
Hell! It's hard for me getting my **** together in complete order. I don't want to think what would become of me
in complete anarchy.
I am the one that wakes up every day
with a stupid smile under his nose,
not remembering the scent of yesterday's failure.
The one that starts dreaming as soon as he gets up,
ignoring the fact that he might be an ignorant
*****
with no desire to go to outer space,
but with huge hopes up his sleeve for
M. Damon and his agricultural knowledge.
I am in favor of all fancy schmancy Earth saving knowledge,
and I am aware that all that space debris in my head
will do some serious damage one day.
If they ever figure out how to get it all in.
I am the tic, that will come after the tac-toe, this time, and not the other way around!
the encore of every good concert,
the yin for the panda ****
the slim leg for the flamingo,
the gambler,
the rambler,
the day rider.
I am the Syrian boy that just learned to swim and
all of this infinite blue soup
is nothing more than a Saturday stroll.
I will get in the back of that truck and I will breathe
the purest air that someone could ever breathe,
I will sleep the sleep of reason and monsters will not be produced.
You have my word!
I am the skin before the needle shoots up
all its ink.
I will be perky. I will be green.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 5:58 AM UTC
From my window,
in corner of an eye,
see a pink flamingo.
Broad curves,
into familiar shape,
grounded legs,
Iron weighted.
Been there
for years,
quietly sitting,
amongst roses.
Pushed by storms,
changing winds,
yet surprising,
inner strength.
Retains balance,
keeps small piece,
staked out,
of much larger plot.
Slowly losing,
it's distinctive hues.
Dissolving,
fuchsia to palest pink.
Every family
has their own,
pale pink flamingo
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Initiate our souls into the light
Flamingo yes your hue is burning bright
Your colors lighting up the night
We migrate out of darkness within you
Enlighten us to heal our weary hearts
To be with love and never to depart
Appreciating brand new starts
Your beauty resonates us deep within
We want nothing more than with you to be free
To fly away from stress along with thee
Our wings could only hope to grow
As beautiful as yours unfold
You are the breath of freshened air
Our spirits call to breathe repair
In my memory of you I see poise
Noticing your stance without a noise
Perfectly still you are seen
Tranquil in life's pond so serene
As we pass through to become in ourselves
Teach us how to become nothing else
Than the magnetic beautiful creatures
Spirit designed with every feature
We are a gift to the flowing
Always coming always going
There never seems to be enough
Time in the universe thereof
To take a moment to enjoy
And therefore we destroy
This is an ode to your sweet nature
A song of love and light not danger
A memory we are creating
A vibrant show of figure skating
In the circle of acceptance now
Our wings are rising up to bow
Take in the scenery with deepened breath
Never afraid of shaking hands with death
For we are peaceful and at rest
Knowing we always do our best
A true beginning has no end
Drinking from life as we befriend
The journey of our soul path
In a spiritual rose bath
Amen
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
these promises
that are meant to
last forever.
I lie.
I hate the way you hold me,
so harsh yet gentle.
its like watching
a pianist's fingers while they
keep me high.
forgetting you.
emptiness that would be forgotten
like you do.
I will swim inside you
until i find the star
that will start making
flowers grow on my head.
I will crawl till the finish line,
get out
and start from the beginning.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
Stand over my heart like a flamingo
(I dislike sturdy traffic cones, anyway)
As you do so, peer into the well for the calculator I dropped
It's there somewhere
Lord, I hope you can fly
Because I can't help but push your stubborn form
Over the edge like this
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC