#fringe - Hello Poetry

full moon with cloud shroud you can see it gleaming through oh to be worthy of a clear sky sighting moons endure the pilgrimage thru space the final fringe of existing sophistication Brian Hill - 2020 # 70

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Mar 10, 2020

Mar 10, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC

halfpac11

Final Fringe

full moon with cloud shroud you can see it gleaming through oh to be worthy of a clear sky sighting moons endure the pilgrimage thru space the final fringe of existing sophistication Brian Hill - 2020 # 70

6

Sometimes I am still in high school feeling alone like a fool on the margins an arm’s length away a nobody with nothing to say just out of pace chosen last for one side in a game but I graduated moved into the world to find my place but at times I get in a clinch and still feel on the fringe.

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Mar 2, 2020

Mar 2, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC

glenn-currier

On the Fringe

Sometimes I am still in high school feeling alone like a fool on the margins an arm’s length away a nobody with nothing to say just out of pace chosen last for one side in a game but I graduated moved into the world to find my place but at times I get in a clinch and still feel on the fringe.

10

I watched from the background The very existence of such a powerful being was overwhelming What was your secret What did you process that others did not What happened to allow your evolution Those enormous accomplishments stunned the heavens Created a space so improved, perfected and large Wow is all I got left... Wait, where are we Have we reached our destination or are we at the fringe Brian Hill - 2019 # 222

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Aug 30, 2019

Aug 30, 2019 at 10:03 AM UTC

halfpac11

At the Fringe

I watched from the background The very existence of such a powerful being was overwhelming What was your secret What did you process that others did not What happened to allow your evolution Those enormous accomplishments stunned the heavens Created a space so improved, perfected and large Wow is all I got left... Wait, where are we Have we reached our destination or are we at the fringe Brian Hill - 2019 # 222

11

Oh, the colour and shape, I observed this morning, Oh, the eyes I prize the most. Just having been woken up, Hue of almond colour, Just shaped like almond. And the eyes belong to myself only.

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Apr 11, 2016

Apr 11, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC

Atul

The Almond Eyes

Oh, the colour and shape, I observed this morning, Oh, the eyes I prize the most. Just having been woken up, Hue of almond colour, Just shaped like almond. And the eyes belong to myself only.

7

The narrative begins at a point in time, Somewhere adrift at open seas Where polymorphic abstractions surfaced The blends of life, Dancing and prancing along these envisioned Waves Splash of color there Dash of color here A streak A twirl A visage of refraction on the fringe Of her hair: A path And In ambiance we once strolled This path to elliptical essences Green, green, green, red, Hypnotized in fervor, but alone I lapsed In seconds, In minutes Into pages of scores She, my lore to Dimensional shifts of dreams and open doors That I once wished to stroll through Along with her But now I smoke in absence of her exhale Her spliff to my lungs: distant and regretful. Fragmented.

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Oct 29, 2014

Oct 29, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC

worldeater

In Absence.

The narrative begins at a point in time, Somewhere adrift at open seas Where polymorphic abstractions surfaced The blends of life, Dancing and prancing along these envisioned Waves Splash of color there Dash of color here A streak A twirl A visage of refraction on the fringe Of her hair: A path And In ambiance we once strolled This path to elliptical essences Green, green, green, red, Hypnotized in fervor, but alone I lapsed In seconds, In minutes Into pages of scores She, my lore to Dimensional shifts of dreams and open doors That I once wished to stroll through Along with her But now I smoke in absence of her exhale Her spliff to my lungs: distant and regretful. Fragmented.

27

i imagine i watch you, walking barefoot through the afternoon your hem dances, sings the rhythm of your feet, you smile at wonder that rushes you with small hands you drink it in to give yourself there is a gull-down sadness folded in your beauty a blue tenderness in the lilt of your wrists a lock of hair to lift from your cheek and those brown eyes

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Jul 24, 2014

Jul 24, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC

johann-botha

fringe

i imagine i watch you, walking barefoot through the afternoon your hem dances, sings the rhythm of your feet, you smile at wonder that rushes you with small hands you drink it in to give yourself there is a gull-down sadness folded in your beauty a blue tenderness in the lilt of your wrists a lock of hair to lift from your cheek and those brown eyes

12