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"cloudiest" poems
Sunshine comes in many forms.     -  -  -  -  -  - That which comes up in the morning and goes down at night. And little girls who are Grandma's De-light.     -  -  -  -  -  - She rises in the morning sometimes cloudy, sometimes bright, but always Grandma's De-light.     -  -  -  -  -  - Sometimes she rains tears torrential they may pour but comforted by the voice of the One who loves her so.     -  -  -  -  -  - Sometimes she shines bright the warmth of hugs and smiles. Love overflowing in the heart, it's all Grandma's De-light.     -  -  -  -  -  - Love is forever and always whether its stormy or bright. Love covers all situations For all is Grandma's De-light.     -  -  -  -  -  - Sunshine's  Eyes and Smiles Light up the world around her. Creating more smiles in their eyes when first they did find her     -  -  -  -  -  - When Grandma's day is gloomy Sunshine arrives with much to say with happy stories, hugs and smiles to brighten up the cloudiest day.     -  -  -  -  -  - When Sunshine goes to bed it usually can be said Sunshine's eyes cease to gleam when energy's gone, time to dream.     -  -  -  -  -  - Eyes close and all is well in Sunshine Land I do tell. Grandma's De-light in peaceful sleep The day is over, it will keep.     -  -  -  -  -  - She is after all Grandma's Sunshine. 11-01-2014 (c) John Stevens
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
Grandma's Sunshine
There is something about your smile It can brighten the dullest of days It brings sunshine to the cloudiest corner lifts spirits in so many ways. Your eyes light up and the gloom disappears I find myself smiling along with you There is just something special about your smile It just brings positivity in everything we do. It makes worries drown, pains disappear It brings hope to this world we so desperately need. Your smile brings a joy to the room, it takes away sadness, hurt and greed. There is just something special about your smile....
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
There's Something About Your Smile.......
Sunshine comes in many forms. - - - - - - That which comes up in the morning and goes down at night. And little girls who are Momma's De-light. - - - - - - She rises in the morning sometimes cloudy, sometimes bright, but always Momma's De-light. - - - - - - Sometimes she rains tears torrential they may pour but comforted by the voice of the One who loves her so. - - - - - - Sometimes she shines bright the warmth of hugs and smiles. Love overflowing in the heart, it's all Momma's De-light. - - - - - - Love is forever and always whether its stormy or bright. Love covers all situations For all is Momma's De-light. - - - - - - Sunshine's Eyes and Smiles Light up the world around her. Creating more smiles in their eyes when first they did find her - - - - - - When Momma's day is gloomy Sunshine arrives with much to say with happy stories, hugs and smiles to brighten up the cloudiest day. - - - - - - When Sunshine goes to bed it usually can be said Sunshine's eyes cease to gleam when energy's gone, time to dream. - - - - - - Eyes close and all is well in Sunshine Land I do tell. Momma's De-light in peaceful sleep The day is over, it will keep. - - - - - - She is after all Momma's Sunshine. 02-11-15 (c) John Stevens
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
Momma's Sunshine
I always keep the sunroof open. Even on the cloudiest days. I would not refuse him. So if he returns I will welcome his warmth with windows wide open. My skin as felt the bitter touch of being shut out cold but it never stopped missing the goosebumps his sunrises would bring.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
Him.
This pain encompasses me; it envelopes me; it surrounds me. It follows me with each step that my foot it does make; it belabors me with each beat of my heart it does take. It shadows me even on the cloudiest of days; it reminds me with each memory that my mind recreates.   Your face exists in my dreams now. It haunts my thoughts, each passing day. Memories of our love still linger in my heart.   The feelings we once shared are now only one-sided.   I don’t know how to forget you, even though I know I should.   This mental anguish, alone, causes me indescribable hurt.   This hurt torments me,   as flashbacks of our times together continually taunt me – constantly reminding me of how truly happy we once were.   I begin to lose control of my emotions – sobbing, shaking uncontrollably.   Each night before I slumber, I pray to God that he grant me some hours of peace, as all parts of my being are so exhausted, anymore.   But, this pain finds me, even while I try to rest.   My once safe haven, now discovered, is only filled with nightmares. I barely survive each day.   I feel like an empty shell; a lost soul walking around, in circles, with no end in sight.   Circles with no meaning, nor purpose, in life, other than to repeat the same cycle, over and over again.   How do I break free of this insanity?   Even though my judgment is clouded, the only thing I can be certain of, is that I must find a way to survive this. I must take the time to heal; I must not give into the temptations of loneliness, as misery tends to love company.   I need to realize that true mending of my spirit must be done on my own.   This is when I truly learn my own strengths, and weaknesses.   I have been in this place before, and I found my way out of the abyss. Even though the path was dark, at first, the longer I climbed , the closer to the surface I got. At times, I slipped and fell downwards, but, my desire to desperately depart this darkness, burnt so intensely within. This fire, of true conviction, was the only light that helped me reach the surface.   This pain will ease one day.   I know I must believe, as hard as it may be to do so.   This pain will have no control over me, unless I give it thee.   One day, the source of the pain will be forgiven by me; however, this pain will never be truly forgotten, indeed. But, instead, it will become another lesson learned along this journey called life.   Vicki A. Zinn March 8, 2013
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Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
This Pain
This pain encompasses me; it envelopes me; it surrounds me. It follows me with each step that my foot it does make; it belabors me with each beat of my heart it does take. It shadows me even on the cloudiest of days; it reminds me with each memory that my mind recreates.   Your face exists in my dreams now. It haunts my thoughts, each passing day. Memories of our love still linger in my heart.   The feelings we once shared are now only one-sided.   I don’t know how to forget you, even though I know I should.   This mental anguish, alone, causes me indescribable hurt.   This hurt torments me,   as flashbacks of our times together continually taunt me – constantly reminding me of how truly happy we once were.   I begin to lose control of my emotions – sobbing, shaking uncontrollably.   Each night before I slumber, I pray to God that he grant me some hours of peace, as all parts of my being are so exhausted, anymore.   But, this pain finds me, even while I try to rest.   My once safe haven, now discovered, is only filled with nightmares. I barely survive each day.   I feel like an empty shell; a lost soul walking around, in circles, with no end in sight.   Circles with no meaning, nor purpose, in life, other than to repeat the same cycle, over and over again.   How do I break free of this insanity?   Even though my judgment is clouded, the only thing I can be certain of, is that I must find a way to survive this. I must take the time to heal; I must not give into the temptations of loneliness, as misery tends to love company.   I need to realize that true mending of my spirit must be done on my own.   This is when I truly learn my own strengths, and weaknesses.   I have been in this place before, and I found my way out of the abyss. Even though the path was dark, at first, the longer I climbed , the closer to the surface I got. At times, I slipped and fell downwards, but, my desire to desperately depart this darkness, burnt so intensely within. This fire, of true conviction, was the only light that helped me reach the surface.   This pain will ease one day.   I know I must believe, as hard as it may be to do so.   This pain will have no control over me, unless I give it thee.   One day, the source of the pain will be forgiven by me; however, this pain will never be truly forgotten, indeed. But, instead, it will become another lesson learned along this journey called life.   Vicki A. Zinn March 8, 2013
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86
He is a beautiful day Bottled in a beautiful soul With a smile that makes the gray sky blue And deep hazel eyes that feel like sunshine on my cloudiest days When i'm around him, i just feel like rain Pessimistic and forever in his way
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Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 5:28 PM UTC
A Good Day
You’re not allowed to step into the house. You’re not allowed to open your mouth too widely, your ugly teeth bared and gnashing. You aren’t allowed to be that close, so close your mouth and sip your tea through the window, where expensive and matching dining chairs circle around a table set for nothing, for no one, because you can’t touch that silverware. You can’t wash those plates. You can’t fit, your neck so long that your head is in the clouds, your not-quite-bony legs serving as a reminder that your feet are still on the ground. Can you feel your heart in your throat? The way that it pulses every time you rest your chin on the roof or the way it pounds when you’re at the doorway, much too close to this house that you bought and built and you aren’t allowed inside. Why won’t they let you inside? Why won’t you let yourself inside? Invite yourself in; maybe your head will come down from the clouds and your heart won’t beat quite so obnoxiously loud and you can smile in a mirror while flashing all your ugly teeth. You can’t build a house without thinking about how you’ll fit into it: that’s basic architecture, basic design, basic everything that you never bothered to learn, bent on keeping your head so much higher than the ceiling. Asymmetric, sloping, like your shoulders and the alignment of your eyes and your crooked smiles and tied up tongue, like white lies and broken foundations and a doorknob that doesn’t work, doesn’t turn, won’t let me in despite the fact that I built this place with my bare hands. It doesn’t recognize me anymore, a fantasy so tangled up with reality that all the nightmares and anxiety ruin even my cloudiest positivity. I built myself a world and a future in which I myself am not allowed to enter. Maybe I should brush up on my knowledge of basic architecture, because God, I’m horrible at interior design and mapping things out ahead of time. I’ve tried just living without but the winter gets chilly and weakens my bones and it really sets in without the warmth of a home.
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
building
You’re not allowed to step into the house. You’re not allowed to open your mouth too widely, your ugly teeth bared and gnashing. You aren’t allowed to be that close, so close your mouth and sip your tea through the window, where expensive and matching dining chairs circle around a table set for nothing, for no one, because you can’t touch that silverware. You can’t wash those plates. You can’t fit, your neck so long that your head is in the clouds, your not-quite-bony legs serving as a reminder that your feet are still on the ground. Can you feel your heart in your throat? The way that it pulses every time you rest your chin on the roof or the way it pounds when you’re at the doorway, much too close to this house that you bought and built and you aren’t allowed inside. Why won’t they let you inside? Why won’t you let yourself inside? Invite yourself in; maybe your head will come down from the clouds and your heart won’t beat quite so obnoxiously loud and you can smile in a mirror while flashing all your ugly teeth. You can’t build a house without thinking about how you’ll fit into it: that’s basic architecture, basic design, basic everything that you never bothered to learn, bent on keeping your head so much higher than the ceiling. Asymmetric, sloping, like your shoulders and the alignment of your eyes and your crooked smiles and tied up tongue, like white lies and broken foundations and a doorknob that doesn’t work, doesn’t turn, won’t let me in despite the fact that I built this place with my bare hands. It doesn’t recognize me anymore, a fantasy so tangled up with reality that all the nightmares and anxiety ruin even my cloudiest positivity. I built myself a world and a future in which I myself am not allowed to enter. Maybe I should brush up on my knowledge of basic architecture, because God, I’m horrible at interior design and mapping things out ahead of time. I’ve tried just living without but the winter gets chilly and weakens my bones and it really sets in without the warmth of a home.
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39
When I was a little girl, I've always wondered what love would be like for me. If it would be like fireworks That suddenly bursts into vibrant colors But disappears the next second; If it would be like a sunflower Just contentedly gazing at the sun from afar; Or if it would be like a fire That keeps on burning as long as the wood keeps it alive. But the more I grew up And the more I saw the world, The sooner I realized That love wasn't something easily defined By metaphors and poetry Love was a ray of sunlight Covered by clouds of mystery. Love was the shadow You never realized was following you And sometimes when you turn, The light has already shifted and the shadow is gone And has moved to another direction. Love was not merely fireworks, or sunflowers, or burning fires. Love was a mixture of everything. Love is your favorite pillow stained with the bitterest tears. Love is the beam of sunlight on the cloudiest morning. Love is the drizzle of rain on a hot summer day. Love is one thing while at the same time being another. But if there was one thing I knew, It was that love can sometimes mess you up, Love can sometimes break you Love can sometimes make you cry But love can also heal Love can also build And love is what makes the tears all worth it.
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
Of metaphors and love
you are the tiniest of scattered things remembered in the cloudiest of dreams so vivid when i sleep, sink deep, or fly high into my head, you are the characters in the books i have read, the heroes, both living, and dead, you are among the greatest of my ambitions, you are a man, and to become one like you were is my mission, but you are missing, you were father, healer of hurts, great counselor, confidante, you were there when i was in the room, but i was not, when i broke into two, a shell of me, and i, wishfully, blissfully, irridescent moon, you are, silver-hair, scattered through the many rooms, the sudden, unexpected trill of an old familiar tune, you are sometimes the songs you sang, sometimes the silences sometimes the gentle rain sometimes my tears, or violences, the woods we walked, the talks we talked the cluttered house, faded graphite, scribbled in the corners of notebooks, on walls, in phonebooks, and on all of my cards, you are often here when i am gone and i am often gone when you are near it is the reuniting that i long for, it is the forgetting that i fear. you are all around me, but fading, you are a pencil drawing, losing its shading. a perfect snapshot, on aging paper once and only once a perfect snapshot, later smeared, torn, lost, or forgotten, burned, replaced with another, eaten by moths, found wet, molded, yellowed, or rotten. Returned to earth, or dust, or ash, and though i long to hold you in a perfect memory.. time... must pass. i miss you.
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
about my dad...a musing more than a masterpiece...
you are the tiniest of scattered things remembered in the cloudiest of dreams so vivid when i sleep, sink deep, or fly high into my head, you are the characters in the books i have read, the heroes, both living, and dead, you are among the greatest of my ambitions, you are a man, and to become one like you were is my mission, but you are missing, you were father, healer of hurts, great counselor, confidante, you were there when i was in the room, but i was not, when i broke into two, a shell of me, and i, wishfully, blissfully, irridescent moon, you are, silver-hair, scattered through the many rooms, the sudden, unexpected trill of an old familiar tune, you are sometimes the songs you sang, sometimes the silences sometimes the gentle rain sometimes my tears, or violences, the woods we walked, the talks we talked the cluttered house, faded graphite, scribbled in the corners of notebooks, on walls, in phonebooks, and on all of my cards, you are often here when i am gone and i am often gone when you are near it is the reuniting that i long for, it is the forgetting that i fear. you are all around me, but fading, you are a pencil drawing, losing its shading. a perfect snapshot, on aging paper once and only once a perfect snapshot, later smeared, torn, lost, or forgotten, burned, replaced with another, eaten by moths, found wet, molded, yellowed, or rotten. Returned to earth, or dust, or ash, and though i long to hold you in a perfect memory.. time... must pass. i miss you.
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47
There’s a hole in my heart when you’re not around. One left from a missing piece so profound. I think about you when my skies are grey. You brighten my world on the cloudiest days. My wish was granted and you became mine as my feelings developed over much needed time. Like a snowman outside on a bright winter's day, my insides melt when you are away. Here is my heart, treat it not like a toy because I am your forever boy.
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Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Forever Girl
You say that your body Is like a cracked *** I know that on bad days, These are the gaps Where the darkness leaks in. But come with me darling, We can fill you up with soil once more. Plant deep and unshakable roots That bloom bright yellow daffodils Who can withstand even the cloudiest days, Reminding you to keep growing (Keep going darling) Up towards the sunlight.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Flower ***
We've walked so far together. You carry your shoes by their straps Carelessly over your shoulder, Your toes happy in the soft sand of our Short, yet eventful History. The soles of your feet still carry Scars from the sharp rocks; unfriendly Paths of years gone and Yesterday's selfish lovers. Now your hand is safe in mine, And there's a colourful sunset On even our cloudiest evenings. Walk with me Into it. I brought you five roses on this Day. One for each Month together. There's bliss within the Bliss inside this Bliss, and The print on that Girl's T-shirt is more Than true; Life really Is a Beach.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
On Even our Cloudiest Evenings
why is it that i can only find inspiration on the cloudiest days? what about the days where i'm too busy to think? what about days where i don't get a moment alone? what about days where i'm immersed in my art? what about days where i have it all figured out? what about days where there's so much light i can't even comprehend darkness? i neglect my brightest days, only to be inspired by sorrow and stagnation.
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 8:50 AM UTC
-written on a good day
I found a home In the heart of what you said to me: That you didn't trust yourself. But I trust you like I'd trust the kindling to fuel our friendly fire. Never quite ablaze but always holds a smolder. I'd trust you to feel me, and know me, and hurt me and still be the person I want to talk to on my cloudiest of days. Because I'd rather feel pain than feel numb and I'd rather try my best than be done. Because the beauty in your eyes isn't a color, It's knowing that there is a depth behind for me to find. Your complexity Strikes a curiosity in me that wants to break you down to build you up. Because a mountain of you would always be worth the climb No matter how rough the weather. And I know that these are things I've said before, My entire existence banes from redundancy. But you are new and you understand the bluest of my hues because you have them too. Part of me wants to shine in the darkest corners of your heart. But the other part knows you are not looking for a flashlight in me. I've been here before. It's starting to look familiar again. The thing about living life next to a window is that you always have a view of what's on the other side. But a view of you makes me grateful that I have the best seat.
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
Blueberry (blues) Yellows
One day, I know that he will ask questions, Children have a way of noticing things that are there, seeing shapes and shadows that aren't, A special talent for noticing missing things and finding words to help them understand what shadows mean and how the sun shines. Some children grow up and ask where the sun goes when the shadows grow, I know that the silver lining is a cliché, but I keep looking at the clouds expecting a miracle, but the rain brings no relief, only pelts me with reason after reason to keep writing to you, even though you'll never read these words, I know one day he will. The sun always shines, somewhere, even on the cloudiest nights, silver lines slice through in patches, and all the shapes and shadows tell me that.
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Finding Words
And forgive me for staring but I've never seen/eyes like yours, take my breath, and I guess what I mean is/I'd follow you down into hell and back home if you'd let me. If you'd let me I'd give you the rain, and that moment at night when the sun has just set, and the stars/and I'd give you my heart and the air in my lungs and I'd walk out to meet you/it's never too far if I hear your voice at the end. If you'd let me. If you'd let me I'd draw you a city and when it was done it would rise off the page, and surround you/and I'd bring you flowers at 4 in the morning/because I can't sleep when I know you're upset... And I know that I'm young/and I know that you're busy/I know that I'm not what you planned and it doesn't make sense/but the problem is when I'm around you my heart is a tympany drum and my mind is a mess/and the only thing in this whole world that I want is to see/you/smile. So if you'd let me I'd like to be someone who stays up till 5:15 in the blue morning and watches the sunrise with you from a rooftop/and looks at you like you're a dream. And I love when you stutter and trip like a brook on your words, little pebbles that tumble out jumbled/I love how you laugh and the way the world fades when you look in my eyes and take/my breath/away. I'd like to be someone whose voice makes you smile, whose bad jokes cheer you up on your cloudiest days/whose eyes in the dark tell you "You're the whole world, and there's nothing so wonderful as your next phrase." I love that you hug me for longer than I have expected whenever you leave me behind/and I love that sad moment when I linger watching you go cause I can't walk away when I know you're still there... And I love all your scars and the way you've endured and I want to be all that you're missing. And if you'd let me I'd love you through all of your faults and your petty mistakes and your failings/and I'd be the steadying arms every bad day and the voice that cuts through your self doubt to say you are amazing/and I'd be a love of your life because I'd be so sure that you'd always be just what I wanted/and I'd bring you flowers at 4 in the morning/because I can't sleep when I love you so much... If you'll let me I'll be your adoring companion/here, quiet and sure that you're brighter than all of the stars/if you let me I'll love you with all of the parts of me I have held back and I'll give you the world/and the only thing in this whole life that I'll want is to see/you/smile... If you'll let me.
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Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
If You'll Let Me
And forgive me for staring but I've never seen/eyes like yours, take my breath, and I guess what I mean is/I'd follow you down into hell and back home if you'd let me. If you'd let me I'd give you the rain, and that moment at night when the sun has just set, and the stars/and I'd give you my heart and the air in my lungs and I'd walk out to meet you/it's never too far if I hear your voice at the end. If you'd let me. If you'd let me I'd draw you a city and when it was done it would rise off the page, and surround you/and I'd bring you flowers at 4 in the morning/because I can't sleep when I know you're upset... And I know that I'm young/and I know that you're busy/I know that I'm not what you planned and it doesn't make sense/but the problem is when I'm around you my heart is a tympany drum and my mind is a mess/and the only thing in this whole world that I want is to see/you/smile. So if you'd let me I'd like to be someone who stays up till 5:15 in the blue morning and watches the sunrise with you from a rooftop/and looks at you like you're a dream. And I love when you stutter and trip like a brook on your words, little pebbles that tumble out jumbled/I love how you laugh and the way the world fades when you look in my eyes and take/my breath/away. I'd like to be someone whose voice makes you smile, whose bad jokes cheer you up on your cloudiest days/whose eyes in the dark tell you "You're the whole world, and there's nothing so wonderful as your next phrase." I love that you hug me for longer than I have expected whenever you leave me behind/and I love that sad moment when I linger watching you go cause I can't walk away when I know you're still there... And I love all your scars and the way you've endured and I want to be all that you're missing. And if you'd let me I'd love you through all of your faults and your petty mistakes and your failings/and I'd be the steadying arms every bad day and the voice that cuts through your self doubt to say you are amazing/and I'd be a love of your life because I'd be so sure that you'd always be just what I wanted/and I'd bring you flowers at 4 in the morning/because I can't sleep when I love you so much... If you'll let me I'll be your adoring companion/here, quiet and sure that you're brighter than all of the stars/if you let me I'll love you with all of the parts of me I have held back and I'll give you the world/and the only thing in this whole life that I'll want is to see/you/smile... If you'll let me.
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13
It isn't the quality of the words that measure truth it's the men we all see with such clear eyes Two brothers trapped in a pitched battle echoes of their roots displayed in a contest of wills two brothers follow the same dream two brothers dance the same songs We can never stop being who we are we can grow thriving under a perfect sun but our roots forever spread from the single source our birthplace and home Two brothers trapped in a pitched battle find peace at last in each others truth we are the same inside the dream we are fellow travelers whose nature it is to find hope and love in the cloudiest of days
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Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 11:33 AM UTC
"two brothers"
I smelt the rain before it came, as The smiling sun was tucked away. I knew then that the time had come- For singing children with kites were done, Their joys and smiles gone with the sun. And butterflies (yellow, orange, and blue) Had to run and hide Until the storm was through. These daffodils, lilies, roses, too, Will stand beside me, Water rushing at the knee- A thousand city skylines, Waters fallen previously, Gigantic ships tucked in a bay, All stand waiting for this day. Like abandoned cars upon a country road, They will take on every load. Here I am, Arms to the sky, Like those daffodils on the Cloudiest day, the loudest night. Every piece of grass, Every grain of sand, The rain stops for no beast, The rain stops for no man.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
Summershower
Blooming in the heart of the sky Gentle and free Like a vibrant butterfly You're a gladiolus Supreme in it's strength And you're so beautiful You're heaven sent You're gracious A melanin queen Your smile is like diamonds At the bottom of a clear stream You are the moon and the sun Your laughter is infectious And your presence feels like a warm embrace You have an aura so luminous It brightens up my world on my cloudiest days
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
Gladiolus (For My Mother)
i want to hold my hands in your hair forever because i feel that they would be safest there and i want to stare into your eyes forever and read them let me study you and breathe you in   let me kiss your pain away and make you laugh because darling your laugh echoes off the walls of this empty house and for that moment i find so much peace tell me everything you are passionate about the things you hate and what makes your eyes sparkle like they do and when they flicker briefly with excitement i want you to grab my hand and spin me around you are this faint ray of sunshine on the cloudiest and greyest of days i will cherish you even after i die
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
i am in love
Love not forgotten, just placed on the back burner. And one is reminded of a photograph with past lovers. It never took much for you to make me weak. The loving you gave sent chills down my spine, made my soul do cartwheels, and made my heart do back flips. You felt the same. I know because I felt my energy dance on your heart, and I could tell when it got down to your bones. I took the kinks out of your soul and made life a smoother ride. We were breaths of fresh air we both needed, and we gave our spirits what they yearned for. Ice cold winds beating against our faces. Laughter so joyous it brought about permanent smiles. You were contagious in the best way possible. On the cloudiest day, the sun decided to break through and make an appearance when we got closer to his space. Knowing that you were the brightest star that afternoon and he could never compare to you. Gazing at each other and saying "I love you" is what we did best that day. Moving my hands so my fingers intertwined with yours, with intentions of never letting go. Placing kisses exactly where they belonged. And our reciprocal love filled the air Everyone could feel it. All eyes were on us. Now we are strangers in different locations, with hearts in different races and minds in different places. And we are left with a photograph containing a love that ignited a fire in me to create poetry. 4514
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
Photograph
You light up my cloudiest days and my darkest nights My evening star, you shine so bright. You warm up my coldest mornings and the windiest days. You make my fears go away. You fill up my heart with love, laughter and light. You make my soul soar, let’s take flight.
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Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 9:04 PM UTC
Sunshine
If only answers could be kind enough To appear in the cloudiest of times In the darkest of times I would have survived. If only the mind of the human being The heart of the human being Did not have to wonder all the time Knows what to do all the time I could have breathed. If only If only If only Things always turn out the way I imagine it to be I would Have lived.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
If only.
the sun does not always shine on our lives so we can bask in the rays of ultraviolet light beams. but somewhere else in the world, the sun is shining when the sun cannot be visible in our light. The moon sacrifices itself for the sun introspectively and mends a constitution of unity and seizing the battles the sun faced with the moon. the moon sacrifices itself to let the sun in to warm up the world during the day. The moon desperately loves the sun. even on our cloudiest of days someone is looking to the sky and seeing the same sun, in the fellowship of unity of the world, the sun’s always somewhere. c.a.
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
day two (4/2)