#lemonade
The bedroom is cold.
It’s just me and the rain on my wood rooftop.
It’s just us and the bottled lemonade;
It burns my throat,
It’s taste acidic,
But I’d drink it any day.
The bedroom is cold.
The bottled lemonade has the same lingering taste
As a Gatorade I had two summers ago.
My nose crinkles/d up,
Toxicity rampant.
It‘d sat next to the engines for weeks before hand.
It’s just me and the rain on my wood rooftop.
The bedroom is cold.
How long do you have to spend
Away from something toxic and radiating?
It‘s beautiful, but poison all the same.
How long does it take to get better?
We passed the Gatorade around
Noses all crinkled
While the world rushed by.
It was just us and the rain of the ocean spray on the boat rooftop.
The bedroom is cold.
The rain is not the same.
The lemonade is not Gatorade.
But I still remember the taste,
And I don’t speak to some those people anymore.
It’s just me and the bottled lemonade
I‘d drink any day.
Though I love who I am,
I am not who I was.
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 12:29 AM UTC
A tangy taste coats my tongue
I wish yours would too
The kind that makes me bite my lips
Rattles my heart
And brings upon me
An inescapable smile
Like lemonade
I can rely on you
To be on every menu
I imagine you sweet
but with a strong, sour kick
refreshing not only my buds
but my battered soul
Nov 5, 2025
Nov 5, 2025 at 2:53 PM UTC
A resonant gratitude streams through my veins,
Consecrated to my middle school heroines, deflecting
The whispers of shame.
But they taught me that I do not have the luxury of shame;
I have a voice, and I must amplify it––that’s what my mother said.
Elles m’ont protégée, blossoming my oneness.
I am here now because of them, I harness their divine feminine
Strength.
Standing on the bones of my aunties, their anguish travels up,
Their histories following suit.
Beneath my feet, to my knuckles; charging my inner being
My spine is rigid, fortified with the duty––
To liberate, to reform, and to love.
“But my love,” she tells me earnestly, “this love, has been assumed,
Taken for granted, blended into the background of the White man’s portrait.”
My dun skin lives in the ambiguity of praise and prejudice,
And my sisters are dead. Exploited, first––then dead.
As were my mother’s grandmothers, when the Britons drew the line.
The assembly line, however, was an American invention––
Where the American Dream came to fruition. Commodified neatly,
‘Cheaply’ produced, and easy to swallow: fine [Black*] American craftmanship!
Her tomb
Stone, will be mined by her brothers.
He is unearthing the buried history, but forced to push coal into the fire,
Cremating the legacies of his own kin.
“So what are you going to say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?”
Her lasts words, found amongst the ashes.
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 1:28 PM UTC
If life gives you lemons
just be thankful it’s not a lime,
and when squeezing it
avoid getting the juice in your eye this time.
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC
Don't make lemonade
Lemons aren't enough
To turn something sour to sweet
If it was enough
We would not contrast and compare
To one another, alone or crowded
Oh sweet nothing,
When life gives you lemons
Squeeze them with sugar and water
Only then can life be sweet
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 8:51 PM UTC
The frequencies produced by our thoughts resonate with different aspects of our physical environment. Liquids, solids, gases, and plasma. When you combine two elements they may, or not, produce a reaction. A measure that can assure that no reaction occurs is too contain it. In a lab, in order for the observer to see the contents of the container, glass is utilized. Only rarely in case of highly volatile substances is a tinted or otherwise opaque container used. Boundaries. They prevent any of the substances from altering their resting state. Randy and I are highly volatile together. I wonder what a gas and a plasma can create through their union. I wonder if they can achieve fusion.
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 6:45 AM UTC
I want Lemonade. Fresh squeezed Lemonade.
I don't want Minute Maid!
I only want real Lemonade!
Oh sweet Lemonade, I'll sit right here and serenade!
And sing songs all day of Lemonade.
Only songs of Lemonade!
And one day I might even trade
this song for fresh squeezed Lemonade.
There'll even be a big parade,
for the ice cold drink I always crave!
The sour sweet kick in the cooling shade.
I only want real Lemonade.
I don't want soda. I don't want tea.
I only want my very own grown up tall lemon tree.
Oct 2, 2022
Oct 2, 2022 at 2:40 PM UTC
I love you like lemonade.
You're so bitter
but I-I crave
the sweet taste
you give to everything.
And when I'm with you
my mind goes blank
like I can't explain.
I hate when you're away,
so don't leave me.
Only stay.
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 11:00 PM UTC
Lemons into lemonade...
That's what they tell me.
It's so hard to make lemonade
When your wrists want to bleed.
The juice stings my flesh
And I just want to end.
The scars remain on my flesh
A reminder of my friend.
Pain is the only one I can tell
Nothing else is real.
Other people will spill and tell
The secret of how I feel.
Lemons into lamentation
That's all I have today-
Nothing but hopeless lamentation-
Until life stops dumping lemons on my tray.
May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 11:20 AM UTC
don't know what to feel
hate you; love you
lost in the confusion
I get what I want
yet I'm left
heartBroken
when you leave
dynamic is changing
you no longer chase me,
was it only ever a hope
for More?
you hurt me
but I hurt me too
for trusting so
easily
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 3:53 PM UTC
when life serves you lemons, you make lemonade
when life performs cycles of crazy patterns, you listen
you listen to the science of reality and truth
you stand up to the certainties that can be validated
you survive the onslaught of the cycle and wait for lemons
you make lemonade...
Brian Hill - 2020 # 271
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
you are
sitting there,
watching me
from the sidelines,
sipping on your lemonade,
telling me that
I can make it through
the blood
the sweat
&
the tears
however
when the timer runs out
you say
"maybe next time"
'cause the goal still wasn't made
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 6:00 PM UTC
5’s , 10’s , 20’s all belonging to the air
Moving alive, green presidents
Moving alive, pushing brown caskets
The ground isn’t sliding, but the heat is hitting
Providing the leak printing keeps it clean
Draw it, light it so the copiers’ drain sink doesn’t sit with it in
The inner me has a beam of destiny in pink sour mix ink
Watching the lemonade pour out sweet ****
Declining markets are on the line with the paid growing cuz the business is moving the lemons into lime trees
Bushes be on fire **** that’s where the horse leads b
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 3:46 PM UTC
I thought you were my
lemonade stand.
But with every sip,
I knew that you were
bitter upon my every taste..
And I asked for my dollar back.
You told me,
that with every lemon there
is always pips.
but that every taste is different.
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 4:19 PM UTC
I always wished
that my hands could be as gentle
as the ones I watched around me.
Elegant and musical,
the hands of those I spent time with
seemed to glide over whatever
they touched.
They were never aggressive
never snatching.
They wanted nothing,
only plucked flowers gracefully
and lifted glasses of lemonade.
They never had to hold fast
to anything
never worried about
the precious things
being taken from them.
My hands have always been
rough and calloused
prepared to lash out
to preserve me and my life.
They are fighting hands,
grabbing hands,
loving hands.
They are made to last
to persevere.
My hands have been exactly what
I needed them to be
my wistful wishes of gentleness
were just that:
wishes of someone who wanted
something different for herself.
But my hands have aided me
like none other,
and I would not exchange them
or change them for anything.
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 4:37 PM UTC
Like lemonade, my insides are melting.
Sweet and sour, love made on demand.
Wasn’t long ‘til I started sweating.
You had me in the palm of your hand.
Jan 15, 2020
Jan 15, 2020 at 8:48 AM UTC
Rocking on the front porch
Watching the stars in heaven play
Rocking back and forth
Sipping from my lemonade
Melting all my cares away
ALesiach © 08/05/2017
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
Warm days
Heavy nights
Lemonade
Mosquito bites
Dancing bees
Delicious honey
Sweet tea,
Yummy, yummy
Swimming pools
Shade trees
Staying cool
Ice cream
Summer showers
Juicy peaches
Budding flowers
Warm beaches
Vacation's over
School begins
Time's slower
Summer ends
ALesiach © 8/2016
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 3:03 PM UTC
My whole mood is pink lemonade
One minute, melancholy,
next got me swayed
into sweet besitos, my love sugar-free
I'll dilute this taste with cold iced tea
Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 7:46 AM UTC
Before I went to bed I drank a glas of lemonade
To make my bad dreams go away
Sadly it didn't seem to work as my dreams turned into a very unpleasant charade.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
Man I have no time,
for slow minds,
so I stay in my own mind,
while they show crime,
to sew paranoia,
and lessen our faith in fellow Man,
Lennon wanted to give peace a chance,
but the Shadow Hand had other plans,
oh the humanity of our humanity,
full steam ahead even though we don’t know where we’re goin’,
it’s all awkward whether on stage with the spotlight ablaze,
or in the bandstands with a bag of popcorn and a program,
and I’m anxious as heck and want to get out ASAP,
but she’s got her eye on my and wants us to slow dance,
and I don’t want to but can’t think of an excuse not to,
because I’ve got no plans and it feels so good this bad romance,
so I step forward take her hand and take a chance,
nothing else left to do but pick out a spot with a good view,
to watch the fireworks from our collective apocalypse,
as the night sky lights up and we start to dance as if on queen,
because if all we’ve got is lemons,
then baby we’re making lemonade,
and if all we’ve got is each other,
then baby we’re making love until a new day is made,
as they watch in awe,
thoroughly entertained,
keeping up with the gossip,
but not with the current pace of our mental state,
and that’s why man I have no time,
for slow minds,
and why I stay in my own mind,
while they show crime,
to sew paranoia,
and lessen our faith in fellow Man,
Lennon wanted to give peace a chance,
but the Shadow Hand had other plans…
∆ LaLux ∆
Venice, CA.
October 8th, 2018
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC