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#orange
Like the heavens and the skies Like the deep seas so wide When I am confident and true When I have faith in you Colour me blue, colour me blue Like the royals of Great Britain Like the noble in truth and ambition In my wisdom, dignity and pride In my mystery and grandeur so wise Colour me purple, colour me purple Like fire and blood Like the intensity of a flood In my strength and passion In my desire, love and emotion Colour me red, colour me red Like the warmth of the tropics Like the sun, my daily tonic When I am determined and creative When I am happy and attractive Colour me orange, colour me orange Like a smile so warm Like joy even in a storm When I am cheerful and happy In my intellect, when I am savvy Colour me yellow, colour me yellow When I am all these and more When I am despised or adored With the colours of the rainbow With the colours that make me glow Colour me colours, colour me colours
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
COLOUR ME COLOURS
Donald has a comb-over. ****** a funny moustache. Hair Donald? Heil ******
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Comb-over for Herr Trump
Orange, the perfect color for me. The odd one, the bright one. Fire is orange and I have fire in me. Orange is beautiful, I am too you see. Orange always manages to stand out, I too stand out,always wanting to fit in. A tear tickles my chin, as the thought of never to fit in swims in my mind. A friend is what I need, a friend in orange I always find. Because you see, orange is the color for me. Nothing will ever rhyme with orange, and nobody will ever choose me.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
Orange
Sour. Bitter. Bright. The sky before the night. The leaves in the fall. The rhythmically bouncing basketball The poet’s nightmare. The fire’s glare The bottle of prescription pills The pumpkins on our porch, still.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Orange
A favorite color, too bright for my eyes,  a   favorite food. A fruit left longing for a rhythm    a rhyme. Sit down and ***** with rinds under nails   smelly. Citrus acid and sweet juicyness drips down    my hands.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
orange
I feed on happiness Like a bright yellow sun Mixed with with a fruity essence Of orange To have that smile as bright as the sun And as fresh as an orange
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
Color of a Monster: YELLOW & ORANGE
It's beginning... As my day matured into the tangerine sun. Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun. Some came in hues of marmalade Traces of citrus that left in haste. Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade Only making way for a bitter aftertaste. A few were wrapped in tints of ginger. A jolt-like sensation that spoke... Intense and unmistakable in nature. Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke. Several bore the colours and scent of marigold Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds... Whispering hints of rumours from days of old, Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd. The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said. Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters. Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in red. Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers... It is beginning... The end of today as the sun grew redder... I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
Spectrum Orange
you stolen pink, arson rose you angry yellow you know you the new black? you inmate slap color of construction oh range convict cage or bruised sunset you peel or rind oh range oh range (oh aren't you glad I didn't say orange?) you uniform agent you coral fire burnt aren't you glad i didn't say orange?
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May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
An Ode to Orange
My orange dress I wore it last That night My soul you undressed I was in love With all of you You stripped it down Claiming we Belonged to you. I am reclaiming What is mine, What has always been Mine I take a vow I wear it now This dress I love My color of love Dedicate it to Ours to adore The one Given from above.
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 6:25 AM UTC
Orange
You’re trying to find words with a mouth full of saltwater and i’m going to bed with eyes full of sand foggy dreams thick with desire, a compass that always points north, I’m going to swim in a current so strong.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
beach orange
A warmth breath of the early morn, A touched of the sun's hand to ones eyes. A strong love that melted the heart of a lonely souls.   A color of the spring to summer to fall. A farewell friend in the beginning of the darkness and thy blooms the flower at the far sky. A twinkled stars in cold breeze in the streets, and a rising sun that never forgets to open a new life.
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
Orange
You stand here kissing the light. A halo of red leaves fall past your head Your lips leave sparks on my cheek Your eyes are as steady as tree trunks The touch of your hand, Makes the wind roar. Will you catch me if I fall? I already am. My shirt ripples like waves in the  sea, I wish to fall forever. Because your mountain lion purr is my new favorite song, I feel that your mysterious mind is made of music, Each breath is a tune, each word is a melody, You smell like brown cabins and daisies, Your naked feet are the mud I am stuck in. H e l p I'm going to hit the ground and disappear into your orange hands. You stand here kissing the light. The gray skies are meant to be your background Your rosy cheeks look far too kissable, While you dance as if it's all you know how to do. Every glance you grant me is a blessing and a  s i n, Memories of lip balm and car rides flood my brain. My dress is soaked, I'm drowning in you, I wish you were lost in me too. Your baffling blonde hair blinds me, I can no longer see where I step. Caught in a whirlpool, drinking all your thoughts, Cold evenings, sweaty bodies, You smell like blue trampolines and bubblegum. This love is a shipwreck, Oh God, This daydream has an expiration date, I can't live off empty kisses and blue eyes. You stand here kissing the light. And breathing burgundy words. Your hands are searching for a spark, But your touch is as light as a bumble bees. When you laugh, I no longer feel alone, Because you make my heart beat again. I stand on tiptoe and kiss your habitual hat, Wishing I could be happy in your arms. You are a sunny serene statue In this seriously fast-paced fast-racing world. But, notes passed and dying embers won't save me from H o l l o w  car rides home. You smell like warm blankets and hot sauce. I warn you not to drink me, I am spoiled milk. Get out, before it's too late, I don't love your yellow mind like I should. You stand here kissing the light. A rainstorm strikes when you laugh, Your bare back is the sturdy ship, I am stranded on in this wide ocean. I'm stuck in the jungle of your mind, The story of you is locked in my bones, You're wild, green, and reckless, I'm etranced. Our various vivacious ventures leave me in    r e v e r i e, craving something I can't quite name. Yet, smoky rooms and video games can't protect me from these black thoughts. You smell like cinnamon and ***** In this moment, that feels like home. But god, I can't tell if I'm healing or hurting, And I don't know if you'll survive the hole in my heart, Still, I'll kiss your brown lips, and hope that you do
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Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
Orange Hands, Blue Eyes, Yellow Mind, Brown Lips
You stand here kissing the light. A halo of red leaves fall past your head Your lips leave sparks on my cheek Your eyes are as steady as tree trunks The touch of your hand, Makes the wind roar. Will you catch me if I fall? I already am. My shirt ripples like waves in the  sea, I wish to fall forever. Because your mountain lion purr is my new favorite song, I feel that your mysterious mind is made of music, Each breath is a tune, each word is a melody, You smell like brown cabins and daisies, Your naked feet are the mud I am stuck in. H e l p I'm going to hit the ground and disappear into your orange hands. You stand here kissing the light. The gray skies are meant to be your background Your rosy cheeks look far too kissable, While you dance as if it's all you know how to do. Every glance you grant me is a blessing and a  s i n, Memories of lip balm and car rides flood my brain. My dress is soaked, I'm drowning in you, I wish you were lost in me too. Your baffling blonde hair blinds me, I can no longer see where I step. Caught in a whirlpool, drinking all your thoughts, Cold evenings, sweaty bodies, You smell like blue trampolines and bubblegum. This love is a shipwreck, Oh God, This daydream has an expiration date, I can't live off empty kisses and blue eyes. You stand here kissing the light. And breathing burgundy words. Your hands are searching for a spark, But your touch is as light as a bumble bees. When you laugh, I no longer feel alone, Because you make my heart beat again. I stand on tiptoe and kiss your habitual hat, Wishing I could be happy in your arms. You are a sunny serene statue In this seriously fast-paced fast-racing world. But, notes passed and dying embers won't save me from H o l l o w  car rides home. You smell like warm blankets and hot sauce. I warn you not to drink me, I am spoiled milk. Get out, before it's too late, I don't love your yellow mind like I should. You stand here kissing the light. A rainstorm strikes when you laugh, Your bare back is the sturdy ship, I am stranded on in this wide ocean. I'm stuck in the jungle of your mind, The story of you is locked in my bones, You're wild, green, and reckless, I'm etranced. Our various vivacious ventures leave me in    r e v e r i e, craving something I can't quite name. Yet, smoky rooms and video games can't protect me from these black thoughts. You smell like cinnamon and ***** In this moment, that feels like home. But god, I can't tell if I'm healing or hurting, And I don't know if you'll survive the hole in my heart, Still, I'll kiss your brown lips, and hope that you do
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Red and yellow leaves with varying oranges Littering my lawn
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Fallen Leaves
? when an orange drops from the tree in my garden i do not leave it in the soil to rot but gently pick it out and wash it and place it in the fruit bowl . there it stays upon the kitchen table as if made to be admired ! and when it cannot be admired more (having somewhat lost of its appeal) i do not throw it out as all ungrateful mothers' children do i eat it and Thank God
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
The Orange
Sun rising. Burnt orange skies- Alone, over the Southern Lord's Land. This moment could stand still forever.
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Southern Sun
The sun was in haze Smoke or dust shrouded mountains I felt stranded here.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
2. Orange
The leaves are cracked They lie like pieces of pottery Drying, baking in the sun An orange is suspended in the sky Round heat floats down
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
Pottery
I have a special talent. I have the ability to taste peoples personalities. It sounds weird, I know. But this is not a fictitious writing. It happens only on the very first interaction with someone. Only in person obviously- Not through text or the phone. I feel it- Rather, I taste it in the first words they speak. The first time our eyes meet. And in one instance, the first hug. I guess I don't "taste it" Its more instinctual- It almost feels like a memory. Not like I just imagine it. Its more like- When you think someone said your name when they didn't. Sometimes people taste like the smell of rain. Some, like salt water. some, like cloth or toothpaste. On an occasion- Sweet Orange Soda. I guess I don't know if its actually personalities I am "tasting" It just so happens that the Fellows that taste like burning rubber, or rotten cheese end up being the ones that just cant get along with me. Its hard not to judge- When my body does it at the instant. Maybe its all about mannerisms, and subconscious memories. Its odd. Ill stick to my friends that taste like Mint and Orange sodas- Fruit and cake dough- Than those- who taste like moldy bread.
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
I Have a Special Talent
* red - her lips tasted of wine and blood and all the pain she felt in her heart. she was driven by wild passion and survived solely on her intensity and strength. each breath she took was like fire; so absolute, so empowered. orange - her hair was crafted from the bright ashes of a phoenix, kindled with streaks of gold. she always seemed to be her own lick of flame from the embers that burned in her heart to the coals that touched her soul. yellow - her smile was light at your darkest hour, sunshine after a rainstorm. inspired by everything and nothing at all. she was the sun personified, the epitome of radiance. green - her eyes were so deep and magnificent and ethereal, while still lit with puerility. she could look at you with those eyes and show you that she cared so passionately for you, no matter your mistakes or your faults. blue - her skin drowned in an ocean of tears, storm after storm, each wave wracked her body. she trembled with heartrending sobs, each breath heavier than the last. her sorrow painted the depths of her, unseen to those who had not genuinely looked into her eyes. purple - her organs were stained an ugly shade by the darkness she consumed. her hunger was insatiable. she filled her mouth with poison and swallowed it with a smile on her face. the air traveled from her bruised lungs, through her macerated throat, and out her smiling, stained lips.
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
"how would you explain color to a blind man?"
You told me your favorite color was orange at least three times, you loved everything about it. I never really liked it much, the fruit or the shade it was, it used to give me headaches. You said you loved the way it was part of the sunset, right before the sun hits the horizon and the colors start to blur, you loved the way it was everything all at once, and in my mind I thought, "just like you." I'd get married in an orange dress if I could spend the rest of my life with you, and I know it gives me headaches when I stare at it too long but you're like the orange sunset and I'd stare at you forever if you'd let me.
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Orange.
I'll kiss your pillowcases to stain them Cover them in orange lipstick For you to remember my lips and when you wash them, if you manage to gracefully clean them I'll let you forget me and I'll forget you
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
Orange Lipstick
Three orange lights waiting in a cue. Warm, pudgy and sweating. Squeezing the last drop of pure sweetener down your throat. Delicious syrup growing and spreading on the finger tips. Feeding the eager. Melting bright nectar dropping down the thighs. Saliva sprinkels on the piano lips. Playing chants of lust and thirst. Lavish liberation buzzing for more bees.
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
Pleasant Place
she liked the color yellow because it calmed her its brightness soothed her soul and the sight of a yellow flower always brought her joy it illuminated her dark days and stormy weather it always seemed to try so hard to be happy A quality she could relate to but one day, she met a boy who liked orange a color she always said she hated its hue too close to yellow but too different to be enjoyed she never wore the color orange felt as if it drew attention to her when she was content enough to be invisible in the corner of the room her favorite color was yellow and his was orange but she never liked that color with its harshness and severity it reminded her of traffic cones and reflector vests of emergencies and warning signs But one day, she realized he reminded her of the color yellow he soothed her soul illuminated her dark days and calmed her storms he never seemed to try too hard but always managed to make her smile she realized yellow and orange weren't that different after all and when the two hues came together her, perpetually the color yellow him, forever orange she felt like the only girl in the room the colors yellow and orange started to bleed together and orange came to remind her of fallen leaves and clear sunsets of butterflies and sprinkled zest and in time as she grew to love him the color orange started to become just as beautiful as yellow
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
yellow
satisfying, slightly sweet an orange spindle shape something enjoyable to eat   very good for your health crunchy in every bite yet full of robust wealth to improve your eyesight with a hard and rough texture it's green bloomed leafy top helps balance out its flavor such a great nutrient to savor diced, grated, wild or raw shredded even sliced when fresh in any cookbook there are so may ways to prepare this delicious and enjoyable golden orange vegetable
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
Carrot
I knew the orange on the orange tree you had an ache in your shoulders uncomfortable in an unnatural way yesterday I passed you talking to flowers you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise the omens told me something quiet and unceasing reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease dropping down from the branch with panther steps licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest shocking chances stepped in for the next dance sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face on the surface too smooth for violence was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass and deter such rebellious arrogance with a twist struggling from a lame curse its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle the outside aches for your physical attraction gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes tense as the tightness of your dress' intention demanding that my hands draw from such lines the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade only to feel you relent and burst open soft in appeal again and again
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Orange Drops
I knew the orange on the orange tree you had an ache in your shoulders uncomfortable in an unnatural way yesterday I passed you talking to flowers you hadn't moved you hadn't strayed but hiding in the leaves was a forced disguise the omens told me something quiet and unceasing reminding me of a slumbering domesticated cat dreaming of cutting yourself loose from truncated ease dropping down from the branch with panther steps licking fruit lips ripe with revealed acidic petals riddled with a past you revelled mixing in with zest shocking chances stepped in for the next dance sleep taken aback by wings cut from a dark sky the sidewalk pitted and cracked beneath the pounce relief escaped the twigs with a spring like waking prey pressing into night foliage shaken from a nice balance as I saw you take control with nothing to mask your face on the surface too smooth for violence was laughter of glowing gloom to embarrass and deter such rebellious arrogance with a twist struggling from a lame curse its flavours sharp against your sweetened perfume muscle expecting you to build a limestone shed for tears rather than take on the night with a mind to wrestle the outside aches for your physical attraction gaining courage from the purpose in your eyes tense as the tightness of your dress' intention demanding that my hands draw from such lines the sinuous heat of pulsing flesh's invitation curved upon seeds not chaste but not quite refined which I try not loving with some cool disambiguation you left me the taste of syrup of grenadine too reputable to ripple vain red tipple eyed on a table spilt with pink gin and mandarin sharp teeth tingling a tartness into my hand sliding slowly at a tilt like drops of sweat on skin focus dwindling into the clasp of an escaping shade wrapped carefully under soft rice paper and then tucked under a heel with a pointed kick like a blade only to feel you relent and burst open soft in appeal again and again
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