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Within my breathe
Resides your LOVE
Along with your being
Your blood flows within me
I became your good-self in my SOUL

Twenty-four seven
Your memories are mine
Morning, afternoon, day, evening and night

YOU live in me every moment
In my silent thoughts
And in my spoken and written
Words you dwell
My every action depicts
Your style and movements

I am sending you my LOVE vibes
Through every natural things
That you see and come across near you
Can you feel my LOVE BELOVEDz?

In my eyes- I carry your image
As if you are living my image
In front of mirror - I see only YOU
Have you robbed me from YOU?

No one can see
The invisible chain of LOVE
From your heart to my heart
From your soul to my soul

In every dream of mine
YOU make me happy and smile
Who knows what's going on in our lives

Our eyelids blink and
OUR LOVE blossoms Millions of
Flowers around the world

MY work is to narrate you
The details of my dreamZ
That's the only work
I have got NOW in my lives

There are dew drops on your petals
I am standing surrounded by
Your colorful flowers

The sunshine is ready to light the sky
The sky has worn your rainbow colors
The clouds are white and floating like oceans
The birds are chirping songs of LOVE melodies
The animals are stretching to follow us loyally
The breeze is carrying your fragrance
With your scent -
Even dead have come alive..!

Everything is ready but you are not there
And along with nature
I am waiting for your arrival

Within my breathe
Resides your LOVE
Along with your being
Your blood flows within me
I became your good-self in my SOUL


marla Apr 4
Charming and quaint,
These monuments to
Stylized antiquity sit
Parallel a seashore.
Cars of forgotten pasts
Line their facades,
Defending them from
The sea's subdued gaze.

On the streets below,
A crowd as energetic
As the stars themselves
Becomes one with their nature.
Not a beat is skipped,
These pretty pastels
Make the world as
It should be:
In a state of colorful glee.
Leal Knowone Feb 2015
the mirror of the soul is broken,
spilling out a river forever flowing,
as eternal agony soaks in ,
I can't control were the gears are going.
Is my valued machine broken?
Can it be repaired by you ?
Can it be rust free again, in a world were all is painted blue?                                                       Who would have thought the igniter,
would become the cause of the stole?
Causing us to be fighters
but when does it all get old?

LOOKING GLASS

Broken mirrors, this floors so cold and wet.
All is shattered and ripped apart.
Look into the mirror don't forget.
Look to find a slow beating heart.

Cold yet beating it isn't dead!

LOOKING GLASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7 years bad luck roll over.
A black cat that was once loved,
now has gone over the shoulder.
Question this the loved.

LOOKING GLASS

It all changes and circles,
like the gears to the machine,
watched over by it workers,
but there's piercing laser beams.

Forever grow, river flow, broken souls, sanity goes, the lost soul different highs, different lows,different eyes, visions unknown.

LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN
LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN

Never know, true control, societies soul, vanity goes, the lost notes
different thoughts, indifference lost, so its fine, vision unknown.

LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN
LOOKING GLASS, LOOKING IN

Did you break the mirror too?
Will it bring about misfortune,
our colorful different hues ?
When did this destruction begin?
Rivers flow into the ocean.
The water construct and destroy.
Beginning of the end, beginning again.
The mirror of the soul is broken.
SPILLING, KILLING
looking glass, LOOKING IN

The mirror of the soul is broken.
Spilling out a river ever flowing.
I'm letting it all soak in.
Is this vile machine broken?

looking glass, LOOKING GLASS, looking glass, LOOKING GLASS!!!!!!!!!!!
The blackened mirror can still see into you
Castle Of Sin
T R S Jun 21
Scissors used to be a tool I'd ask my mom for
So I could clip comics from the paper

Sundays were colorful, and full of ads
and deals, and payments for the lives that we had.


Older.
Older and older I learned
that's lives aren't made out of food and water.
But paper and paper ideals.

I spilled on the floor
my heart bleeds on papers

and i bleed on it more and god how I hate her.
Johnnie Woods Aug 2018
There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.

   If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
   These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
   So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
   If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.

   Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
   During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
   Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
   The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.

   If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
   When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
An asset she is for this you see
In those big brown eyes
Her dreams reveal
Her destiny unique
This I know you feel so
To you I plead
Be her voice until she is
Shout it out that which she is
So she knows she can be
As colorful as she dreams.

With all our fibre and being
Let's
Shout it out
An Asset she is!!!
So she is strong to
SPEAK, BELIEVE, TO BE
That which she dreams and thinks

©Belema .S. Ekine
©belemascribbles
Stephen E Yocum Dec 2014
The day crept by, we all held our breaths.
Tip Toeing on egg shells,  
Doing our collective best.
Holding to forced hollow,
politeness and meaningless small chat.

Avoiding the family elephant in the room,
Our painful history of misdeeds and misuse.

The tree was lighted, the room gaily decorated with
all the colorful Christmas props of our childhood.
Mom cooked her best guess of each of our,
once adolescent favorite foods. My two sisters,
my older and younger brother and me too.

And Dad bit his tongue and tried to stay hushed,
as Mom had pleaded for him to do.

Half way through dinner and a few Hot Buttered Rums,
The small talk turned serious, and just like that, we were
all truly back home again.

Grown adults quickly reduced to sniveling petty children
sitting at their domineering curl Father's dinner table.

Old wounds opened and bleed upon Mom's best-treasured
table cloth. Food grew cold for lack of interest, eyes flared
and oaths of profanity mingled with cheery Holiday Music
on the stereo.  Belligerence ensued and our Father raged
as he verbally listed his disappointments at our many failings.  

Judy's new husband took a swing at Jason and the women
protesting their loutish behavior, separated them.

Earl and his small clan fled out the door and drove
straight back to Emeryville with not one word,
Of goodbye having been uttered.
Even leaving the kids presents behind.

In tears, Sandy ran back up to her old room and discovered,
That it had been turned into an "Exercise Parlor and Sewing
Den." All her things gone to the Goodwill or garbage bin.

Dad went to the cupboard and got his bottle of Scotch
and the rest of us all quickly adjourned.

Mom started to cry and never stopped.

The Dog Days of Christmas had commenced,
And all the Kings horses and all the Kings men
could never put our Castle back together again.

I donned my helmet, swung a leg over my Hog
and headed for the mountains, leaving Christmas
in my rear-view mirror.  "Peace on Earth and
Good Will Towards Men", don't work for everybody
friend. Hopefully, maybe next year we'll try it again.
Not everyone has the good fortune to rejoice
in the happiness of home and hearth. We are all
different, come from varied backgrounds and
family situations. A conversation with a friend
was the seed of this write. Some are not as
lucky as others. And I think we can all relate.
Perhaps the flip side of what we imagine and
want it to be. . . Family stuff is complicated.
Repost 2013
The white sparrows are luxuriating in the furrows of glory, bringing diamond sheaves of beauty in the marrow of a golden morning.

Every leaf turning a golden flower with jewelry petals in explosion of beauty in transcendence of the sun of incandence!

Harvest in rushing armada, riding on wings of ginomous glory.

It's a bountiful spring with colorful opulence in overflow of wonders, burying the venomous autumn in flaming death!
Butch Decatoria Sep 2018
Weeping waifs’ diluted Journals

A sleeping dragon’s cloud, bleeding soft blues

Taming Lions with brush and stroke of hues.

Efferent pastels to demure flower with wet elation’s

Revered soft pining of colorful jubilation,

Canvas of new and in blind white fields

Of untouched imagination, whispers, bends.

Longingly the colors bleed, the heart ascends

On painter’s opus deeper seas, the vivid soul’s

Recollection of raindrops, splash of heaven.

Silken gossamer dreams of us there and then.
Revised
Kateasz Oct 2018
I just want someone to grab my *** and tell me I’m pretty.
Actual words I saw on instagram.
Let’s break that statement down.
Someone to grab my ***
And by that I mean
Someone to love me so much they can’t keep their hands off of me
And by that I mean
Someone to want me or at least tell me that they do
And by that I mean
Someone to make me believe that I am worth a *****
Even if that is all I am worth.
We break girls down into pretty girls and smart girls as if they are mutually exclusive.
Movies brandish the before and after of makeovers so much we can’t help
Glancing in the mirror and only ever seeing ourselves as a before.
So I will drag myself out of bed
Thirty minutes earlier
So I can paint concealer under my eyes (to hide the purple circles)
And onto my chin (to eliminate that red shine that makes it stick out)
And all over my nose (so I don’t look like rudolf when I scratch it and my sensitive skin acts up)
To coat my blonde lashes with layer after layer of ebony paint (to keep me from looking like a sick victorian child)
I will drag myself out of bed
Ten minutes earlier
To try on one outfit (But not that one, it makes my stomach look huge)
To try on two outfits (But not that one, it makes my ***** look smaller than they already are)
To try on three outfits (But not that one, six people told me it looks slutty)
To try on four outfits (Just throw on a hoodie, but that’s the only time you can wear it this week.)
And sometimes?
Three hours earlier
To cry over that assignment I can’t figure out
And to comb through the pages of my backbreaking book for an answer to a problem I’ll never need
To wonder if maybe gagging myself until bile rises in my throat
Until an empty stomach burns in my nose and the nausea hits me like a punch in the everywhere.
Would be easier than going to school
But no one sees that.
They only see me
Fixing my makeup up in bathroom mirror before lunch
And so they throw words as hard as they can
They aim for my heart, using every colorful hallway adjective they’ve heard
Or maybe the words the voice inside calls them
I’d be lying if I said that these words that didn’t haunt me
and follow me
And effect my every action
But I refuse to let them know that
I refuse to let them drag me down simply because they cannot fly
If I’m going to be an Icarus, ******* that’s a good way to go.
*******, that’s a way to be remembered.
Even if I’m a cautionary tale, at least I got to see the sun.
If  you call me a try hard I will say maybe you’re just not trying hard enough
If you call me high maintenance, I will say that it’s better than looking like you.
But when I express how much this hurts to my friend, he pulls a movie Ron Weasley and says
“Well, it’s kinda right.” and proceeds to make fun of me for doing my best
For those sleepless nights kept awake by the light of my laptop.
For shoving a toothbrush up my throat and hating myself for not being able to go through with it.
For raising my hand when the teacher holds up the tightrope I teetered along.
For trying.
I just want someone to tell me I’m pretty.
I just wish I didn’t need someone to tell me I’m pretty.
Josephine Mary Aug 2018
He is my sea and aurora.

He is my sea.
He cannot express not unless the waves within him are out of control.
Just like the sea, its crushing sound gives me warmth.
He calms my heart.

He is my aurora.
In spite of him being the yang to my yin self,
he is calm, gentle and beautiful.
Just like the colorful sky,
he takes my breath away.
Ash Rose Nov 2015
Swirling in the warm breeze
Leaves flashing orange and red, yellow and brown
Whispering air creeping up the buildings
Letting me know that it's autumn now
Tastes and scents, feelings and thoughts
Summer has passed and winter is yet to come
But for now the world is a colorful mess
When the sun has set and the day is done
I just remember this feeling
Autumn, in my bones, flowing through my hair
Autumn, the spiral of warmth in the cold
Autumn
--
a colorful river of words
flows out of the cave
towards an ocean
under azure sky

will it diffuse
in the blue
waves of the sea

or

stake out
in distinctive colors
a current of meaning
Inspired by a computer graphic by Maria Luisa Grimani on password.or.at/showpic.php?pid=281
Kyra Dec 2018
I started writing poetry when I was 14 years old
I didn’t know how to tell my mom I wanted to die

So I wrote it down with colorful words
That I ripped from my veins
And let gush out on to a water stained page.

As I walk in this empty house
I am reminded that I am that same little girl
And the wind that howls outside
Is reminiscent of the devil growling in my mouth.
Eloisa Mar 31
Too wonderful is the spring's day and night
Painting the meadows with delight
Too green are the grass and leaves
Waving happily in tune with the breeze
Too sweet is the smell of the blossoms
Rejoicing in colorful robes they bloom
Someday my dearest love we will
Oh believe me, one day in April
Spring dance in the sun we will
On a sweeter spring, we'll kiss uphill
Anastasia Jun 6
his cheeks were rose petals
soft and pink

his eyes were the sky
velvety blue

his smile was a disease
contagious and heart-stopping

his laugh was song
i want to hear over and over again

his touch was fire
warm and colorful

his lips were candy
sweet and soft
c.b. ♥
The cherry trees dance while blossoms fall,
as if heavenly angels have come to call;
And willing winds fly through dogwood trees,
their leaves dotting landscapes from the breeze.

All this occurring in a dream-filled land,
of poets and prophets in glory's stand;
And gardens overflowing with daffodils,
waving yellow flags from giant hills.

The glancing birds fly off to greet,
in sunbursts' skies of colorful treat;
And rainbows curve their way to gold,
a cherished gift for both young and old.

Delicate as the blossoms may be,
their worth is greater than that of the sea;
While continuing to shed fragrant melodies,
and reviving sweet springtime's reverie.
>reclaiming power does not mean taking anyone else's<


I feel a storm inside of me
I feel a vortex forming
Spinning deeper and deeper,
Spreading wider and wider,
Reaching out to all the edges of the
Universe

I see
cosmic light
Radiate from within it.
I see
All the colors,
And all the dark, mysterious space
Integrating together to Create,
A massive Vision, 
 of Divine Starlight !

I see-
My soul lighting up!
I see-
My soul lighting up!
-
Despite the Worlds' fears,
I can choose
To not be afraid.
Despite the perception of flaws,
I can see the Divine order of all things-
All things !

oh,
It is within you, and it's inside me-
I have crossed over a black sea.
In the water shone,
Starlight !

The small row boat floating my soul -
Seemed to know just which way to go,
Between these two worlds,
Above & Below-
In pure amazement, I ceased to row
In the starlight.
Reflected from the heavens
All through the night.

A gust of wind displaced my hair,
& Reminded me-
Of why I was there,
To keep
Traveling across the sea,.
A colorful island is waiting for me-
I hear bright laughter,
Traveling light.

I will not close my eyes this night,
So as to-
Row, row, row, row on--
To reach the place, where I belong
In the Starlight

(we're starlight
reflecting from the heavens-
all through ,
All through this night)
Hayleo Liz Poetry

11.8.15 original song #hayleoliz
Elizabeth Dec 2018
This city of mine,
Once truly divine,
Is now full of hurt,
Poisoning its dirt.

It’s corners once colorful,
Became gray,
Everything wonderful,
Somehow went astray.

Betrayed by my dreams,
I was shattered,
At night I can hear the screams,
Their voices scattered.

The fire in me was slain,
My mind suffocating in smoke,
How can I stay sane,
When my heart just broke?

I’m still bleeding tears,
Despite my stitches,
I know it will take years,
Before my state switches.
AmeriMav Oct 2018
Fireworks
Can’t...catch my...breath
Thunderstorm inside my chest
Hurricane
Think fast...just can’t...find words
Like gazing from a golden shore
Starlight
Dreams can’t...colorful...outer space
Thoughts every time I see your face
SelinaSharday Feb 2018
As quiet, sleek and sophisticated as they are.
Cats speak volumes
In meow tunes..to the nation of humans.
In the space they consume...
   Cats speaks..uniquely thank you's in cat chat hues..
Colored as  colorful as the rainbows...
loving to hide where nobody knows
Cats walk with confidences,, able to leap high over fences..
Able to hold their own.. able to freely roam..
A cat can cruise in packs..... or walk solo as a matter of fact.
They don't need man to tell them they are royal
you can see this in their stroll.
Deep down in their being.. so noble,, mankind is blessed to behold..

The animal kingdom fashioned purposefully..
Striking divinity blessing mankind usefully.
Needed generously..Well now if your
sharing space with a cat do it graciously.
Being gentle feline Angels..even when naughty enough to scold.
A cat has a unique role...Even with their pampered attitudes..
If your cats is giving you attitude and acting rude.
There's logic behind those actions and moods..
Get yourself on over to cats school and learn cats 101.
Figure out the madness causing this sadness.

Don't be a quitter.. never hit him/her...
Do no harm.. Or heavens bells will ring a alarm.
Know your attending heavenly royalty keep your blessings flowing.
Cats walk and move softly gently with grace...
Your blessed when a cats in your place.
Show them love..don't bring about disgrace.
Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man regards the life of his animal.
By HeavensRosePoet aka selinarose!
pets, animals life lessons..being kind to creatures of all kinds
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