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MeanAileen Jul 2018
When I look into your eyes
I see more than just brown...
I see pools of dark chocolate
in which I want to drown.
Like shots of aged whiskey
they intoxicate me-
I forget all my troubles
and for a moment, I'm free.
They make me feel warm,
so safe and secure.
No longer a sinner-
they make me feel pure.
They're the color of sugar
when caramelized,
with a devilish charm
that has me mesmerised.
Much like the earth
drenched in rain-
with unstoppable force
they now flood my brain.
To be lost in their depths
is where I long to be...
but those perfect brown eyes
were never meant to see me.
I love his eyes
Ash Jul 2015
They say there's no such thing as;
time travel,
Yet gazing into your sullen aged eyes,
I see the pain this world has caused you,
the memories you wish you could erase,
I see the glint in your eyes past adventures have left you,
As if I was reading a bittersweet;
mystery novel,
Or watching a replay of your life,
Though your eyes are pools of;
chocolate and locked up secrets,
I can almost feel the bruises and;
aches this world has left you,
Your eyes are an abyss of secrets,
I've been ****** in to your  alluring;
past,
Lost in the small world in your eyes,
Ive found its too hard to come back
vanessa ann Feb 2018
brown-eyed boy,
you haunt my dream
with your golden gleam

brown-eyed boy,
i wonder if your touch is as soft
as the way you lay your eyes upon me
       [like i was fragile glass,
        and a simple whisper
        is enough to shatter me]


brown-eyed boy,
you’re neither the blues
of the deep abyss
or the viridescence
of oak leaves

brown-eyed boy,
you’re the soil nourishing me
all the riches of this earth
the oxygen i breathe

and brown-eyed boy?
loving you is like
overindulging in
honey
       [for you're so sweet
        and who am i to resist?]


-
because there aren't enough poems in this world about brown-eyed boys, whose honey sweet eyes bore into your soul
Home bound after work
near 12:30 am
just a few minutes from checking my email
then retiring
as us old folks like to call it

from the North side of route 7
at a slight angle
there and gone in half a second
was the biggest meteor I've ever seen
if that's what it was
so big that I slowed and listened for a boom
but nothing came
I have no idea how far it went before touching down
but this isn't about the meteor
this is about the fact that when I got home
and thought about who I would tell...
there was no one that came to mind
I've seen so much crazy **** in my life
that the stories have grown old
even the new ones
I breathed life into a dead woman one morning
then faced the fact that I couldn't save another
hit by a truck on my way home
just after midnight

on the day before the great Russian meteor
I saw 2 objects in the sky on fire
and not moving...
in broad daylight
I've been touched and spoken to
by spirits or ghosts or phantoms
take your pick
I saw 3000 people sacrificed in the name of what?
and as a child I witnessed a president murdered by those supposed to follow him
I've grown to see the young know nothing of that last President who actually had a vision and a spine

and when I quietly leave this life
there will be little to note...
a brief glance
of my obituary
by a few sad souls

I often think of a quote I heard as a young man
by a comedian; George Gobel
who was on the 'Tonight Show'
Dean Martin and Bob Hope were also on that show
and unknown to George, Dean was flipping his cigarette ashes
in George's drink as he was telling his humorous stories
this caused the laughs to come out of sequence...and finally a confused George said; 'Did you ever feel like the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?'
KiraLili Sep 2016
Held in an orb of dark lashes
Taking in all the warm light
Of the fading Pacific Sunset
We're her red golden
Liquid Cognac Brown eyes
jules Aug 2018

the deepest oceans are the darkest ones
miracle eyes outshine the sun
forsaken forever, my heart you won
oh, miracle eyes, mend love undone

.
Knit Personality Jun 2017
A man from McFarland once *******
His pants, which were too tightly fitted:
   He popped a low squat,
   And he ******* a lot,
And it squished out his pants when they splitted.

#
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
Before I knew it I ate half the bag.
Fifty pounds deliciously resting the bottom of my stomach.
I regret nothing.
Weighing my stomach with my hands.
I tried to save some.
Each piece more than the last.
Resting on the coffee table of her heart.
I didn't expect to eat as much as I did.
A decision made in haste,
I smiled.
Easily reaching into my own bag.
Replacing what I ate with that of my own.
Her pieces taste far better than mine.
Knowing that they belonged to her.
My heart rejoiced in knowing this.
My taste buds on the other hand longed for more.
Savoring the taste.
Ready to reach again.
Her heart, the sweetest candy I know
Brown your skin
Sweet sugar your taste

Me young we met
People mock  -They don't understand
Me too hate myself

Blue tie for you
Stole mobile number from paper
Everything so we will get closer

Four years chasing
No regret even a bit
Thursday will be the last Oh honey

The sad air fill my lungs as soon as me arrived
This small island keep a lot of our stories
I want to leave I want to stay

I wonder if we will meet later
Bet you still look young and shine
Oh that small teeth when you smile

Sweet darling
Beautiful Man
You are is will always forever my sweetest misery.
it's been a while since I saw you..
Allie Nov 2017
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
A poem about the three girls and one guy in my life I've loved
Brown eyes are soft
They don’t speak too loud
But they catch my attention
Amongst all the noise
They are simple and beautiful
Full of wonder and purity
They are open to you
Drawing you in closer…
Closer for a kiss
Yet they hide many secrets
I can see why they’re dark
And the harder you look
The more you’ll wonder
What hides behind them?
Its easy to get lost
Lost in beauty?
Or lost in despair?
All I can say is…
The longer you stare
The more you’ll know
And the more you’ll wonder
And the deeper you’ll fall
With no escape

-AJT
⭐️
Their eyes were like the stars—
But stars are not blue,
Nor green,
Nor the deepest shade of brown.
**** watch people not read this note section, but this is another parody on those wannabe poets that think by making prose aesthetically arranged and making it look like a stanza is poetry. If you know, you know.
Also, watch this trend because it’s “aesthetic.”

Also, Shakespeare’s sonnet gave me the idea for this ****. Hence the title.
sophia Oct 2017
a touch of heaven lingered against my fingertips when i felt a light strongly brush against my hands. when i saw him, with eyes of love expressed in the corners of his undeceiving pupils; my heart stopped.
never have i seen eyes that could capture every inch of my soul and at that moment, i knew
it was him.
John Stevens Jan 2015
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.

Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.

They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
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Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
You …

My Love.
My Queen.
This Shining Light in my eyes.

My Laughs.
My Dreams.
My Soft, Contented Sighs.

My *****.
My Lavender.
My Dew Covered Rose.

My Smile.
My Cinnamon.
The Joy in my heart … ever inspiring my prose.

My Best Friend.
My Co-Star.
My Fearless Partner in Crime.

My Breath.
My Cohort.
My Side-kick throughout time.

My Snow-capped Mountain.
The Wind caressing my face.
My Vast Green Field.

The Ivy Covered Wall
that harbors my soul … ever refusing to yield.

You … are my Life.

You … are my World.

You … are my Everything

and I will always love you.

~Charlie Brown
If you don't know the story of Charlie Brown ... OR his "Little Red Haired Girl" you won't really get this. I was just trying to imagine that poor guy writing a poem to his ever elusive object of adoration.

Maybe this bit from Wikipedia will help explain his plight:

"The Little Red-Haired Girl is an unseen character in the Peanuts comic strip by Charles M. Schulz, who serves as the object of Charlie Brown's affection, and a symbol of unrequited love. While never seen in the strip, she appears onscreen in several television specials, in which her name has been revealed as Heather Wold."

"Charlie Brown most often notices her while eating lunch outdoors, always failing to muster the courage to speak to her. She figures prominently in Valentine's Day strips, several of which focus on Charlie Brown's hope of getting a valentine from her. Charlie Brown typically attempts to give her a valentine but then always panics at the last minute."
-Wikipedia

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All my life, I have, for many reasons, loved and related to, Charlie Brown. Lord knows my friends and family have ALL witnessed first-hand my being in situations where, like our hero, I somehow get *******, knocked down, beaten back or just plain defeated by circumstances beyond my control, all while in the midst of trying to do something heartfelt, valiant or with the very best of intentions.

I had a plastic toy of him that was, ironically, the only toy of mine that survived the house fire that took my Father, Christmas Eve 1969. I kept it until my 20's, when I was burglarized ... and the ONLY two things this person took were THAT precious, cherished toy and an object d'art piece of pottery that I had made in High School.

Oh, good grief!

(Long sigh)

I wrote this poem nearly blacked-out after an entire night of power drinking across lower Manhattan. The next morning, I woke up and found it still on my PC screen. After I read it, I almost dismissed and deleted it as too "silly" and "mushy" ... but, for some reason, I just couldn't. I eventually became so enamored with it, that I included a slightly rewritten version in my experimental short story. Find it here:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2396540/thee-longest-piece-ever-uploaded-on-hello-poetry-as-far-as-i-know-i-doubt-youll-read-it-through/
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