"dayglow" poems - Hello Poetry

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” -Genesis 3:19 They felled the last tree yesterday. I felt her heave a great sigh As they lowered her down to her grave. Terminal she lay. Deathly still. Black trucks crept from where she once stood. They felled the last tree yesterday. I felt the ring of the axe, The devilish war-cry of the saw, Biting, biting away beneath a spiteful sun of a mad crimzon. Stumps. A testament to man Entrenched in the barren soil. Who was there to pray for them? Only the quiet dayglow, resting upon the subtle fragments, Of what might have been. One must wonder: “How many must it take for us to learn?” If only we could learn. So don't tell me that they have no use For we are of them, and they are of us All made from the same soft stardust. From earth to earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust!

0

Jul 19, 2017

Jul 19, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC

Tom_H

The Tree

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” -Genesis 3:19 They felled the last tree yesterday. I felt her heave a great sigh As they lowered her down to her grave. Terminal she lay. Deathly still. Black trucks crept from where she once stood. They felled the last tree yesterday. I felt the ring of the axe, The devilish war-cry of the saw, Biting, biting away beneath a spiteful sun of a mad crimzon. Stumps. A testament to man Entrenched in the barren soil. Who was there to pray for them? Only the quiet dayglow, resting upon the subtle fragments, Of what might have been. One must wonder: “How many must it take for us to learn?” If only we could learn. So don't tell me that they have no use For we are of them, and they are of us All made from the same soft stardust. From earth to earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust!

29

she estimates the night counting the stars laid out in a sweeping gesture in dayglow paint across the ceiling with technicolor comets and a ladder from the plush carpet to the dusty shelf with the snow storm crystal ball a tepid little scene with a campfire and a small grey wolf the ladder has a small man climbing it Jacob she lets her hand wander to the plate next to her two thousand one a space odyssey plays silently on the television she picks up a chicken bone holds it up to the dim light whispers 'show me some magic' and smiles to no-one in particular bright blue hair knee high rainbow socks one lip pierced and a hungry for hope eyes there's music playing some neatly polished teen heart throb and his prettier than thou ***** her walls are coated with random pictures trimmed from magazines some neatly polished life she dreams on sometimes where she is fashionable and the world is her playground she drapes herself on my lap all the while speed talking about a hundred things and touching each subject like a queen bestowing gifts she playfully teases 'show me your magic baby' she a neo-glitter kitty ninety seven paces from the surface of the moon but she keeps complaining about the dust wants to take a vacuum cleaner to the whole place i'm gonna clean too tongue bath starting with her earlobe

0

Jan 29, 2014

Jan 29, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC

mark-john-junor-1

france

she estimates the night counting the stars laid out in a sweeping gesture in dayglow paint across the ceiling with technicolor comets and a ladder from the plush carpet to the dusty shelf with the snow storm crystal ball a tepid little scene with a campfire and a small grey wolf the ladder has a small man climbing it Jacob she lets her hand wander to the plate next to her two thousand one a space odyssey plays silently on the television she picks up a chicken bone holds it up to the dim light whispers 'show me some magic' and smiles to no-one in particular bright blue hair knee high rainbow socks one lip pierced and a hungry for hope eyes there's music playing some neatly polished teen heart throb and his prettier than thou ***** her walls are coated with random pictures trimmed from magazines some neatly polished life she dreams on sometimes where she is fashionable and the world is her playground she drapes herself on my lap all the while speed talking about a hundred things and touching each subject like a queen bestowing gifts she playfully teases 'show me your magic baby' she a neo-glitter kitty ninety seven paces from the surface of the moon but she keeps complaining about the dust wants to take a vacuum cleaner to the whole place i'm gonna clean too tongue bath starting with her earlobe

43

amidst cavorting delightfully, enjoying thorough frolicking gingerly, foreign hick hating slo hip-hopping insouciantly sustaining row biological status quo kvetching lamely moreso mother became pro naturally physically rumbling, heard all the way in Oslo supposedly twerking, undulating vivaciously wantonly x2c wisely yielded – nada no zona pellucida anchored byte size ****** potent embryonic fetal moe newlweds nocturnal merriment moma's ****** marked march 1959 lovingly joyusly, insemination happened ha low bullseye clenched diploid fertilization guaranteed germinating heiress while squaqking lichen Apache at Diablo ma late mother did should know upon awakening upon tautly stretched exertion during dilating ****** which jiggled like jello three score orbitz round el sol, warmed cockles and muscled away brutally cold degrees tab billed an igloo, or circa six decades drafted exuberant ho...ho...ho... cuz, i.e. thencee at 362nd day baby in belly did fully grow December first nineteen fifty seven sanctioned newly minted papa to sing a capella for he's a jolly good fellow quintessential nascent kickstarter heady everflow though wintry dark, a “hi” beam illuminated newborn girl with dayglow sans, mechanical engine ear papa (an honorably discharged army vet) all spit and shine groom, who wed a bride somewhat callow first time parents with giddiness did saul fully bellow Boyce and Harriet Harriet countenance twas (like an elf on Christmas eve) all aglow. -------------------------------------------------------- Dear Sis – I knew not what else to do thus, this poem crafted fur ewe a doe ting maternal gal – whose time on Earth flew

0

Nov 10, 2017

Nov 10, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Patterson, New Jersey circa December 1st, 1959

amidst cavorting delightfully, enjoying thorough frolicking gingerly, foreign hick hating slo hip-hopping insouciantly sustaining row biological status quo kvetching lamely moreso mother became pro naturally physically rumbling, heard all the way in Oslo supposedly twerking, undulating vivaciously wantonly x2c wisely yielded – nada no zona pellucida anchored byte size ****** potent embryonic fetal moe newlweds nocturnal merriment moma's ****** marked march 1959 lovingly joyusly, insemination happened ha low bullseye clenched diploid fertilization guaranteed germinating heiress while squaqking lichen Apache at Diablo ma late mother did should know upon awakening upon tautly stretched exertion during dilating ****** which jiggled like jello three score orbitz round el sol, warmed cockles and muscled away brutally cold degrees tab billed an igloo, or circa six decades drafted exuberant ho...ho...ho... cuz, i.e. thencee at 362nd day baby in belly did fully grow December first nineteen fifty seven sanctioned newly minted papa to sing a capella for he's a jolly good fellow quintessential nascent kickstarter heady everflow though wintry dark, a “hi” beam illuminated newborn girl with dayglow sans, mechanical engine ear papa (an honorably discharged army vet) all spit and shine groom, who wed a bride somewhat callow first time parents with giddiness did saul fully bellow Boyce and Harriet Harriet countenance twas (like an elf on Christmas eve) all aglow. -------------------------------------------------------- Dear Sis – I knew not what else to do thus, this poem crafted fur ewe a doe ting maternal gal – whose time on Earth flew

46

The touchable light of a dandelion winter Traceable woes between two Whispers in shades of moonlight But a fall of difference Wonder burns in the care of silence Faded faces linger to a melody of heart A dare of once more To blur the line that walks unforgiven Ash fired galaxies ignite for chance Stone cast destiny but a dream of you Delicate curvature to be Scent of shadows follow To grasp the night of forevermore Unknown to the eyes of noise Stillness falls upon the felt A stars reflection of found

0

Jan 1, 2018

Jan 1, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC

laci

Dayglow

The touchable light of a dandelion winter Traceable woes between two Whispers in shades of moonlight But a fall of difference Wonder burns in the care of silence Faded faces linger to a melody of heart A dare of once more To blur the line that walks unforgiven Ash fired galaxies ignite for chance Stone cast destiny but a dream of you Delicate curvature to be Scent of shadows follow To grasp the night of forevermore Unknown to the eyes of noise Stillness falls upon the felt A stars reflection of found

16

The sun sets as I wrap ten fingers around my neck. I sink and watch the dayglow leave from beneath. There's water in my lungs, where oxygen used to be. I wish I could stop drowning in my own sea.

0

Nov 6, 2019

Nov 6, 2019 at 6:53 AM UTC

Myka

iii

The sun sets as I wrap ten fingers around my neck. I sink and watch the dayglow leave from beneath. There's water in my lungs, where oxygen used to be. I wish I could stop drowning in my own sea.

4

In this void I question serenity gazes are treated as lances, even freckles are friendless such is the self; a bouquet of inward reverence. Ashen is this dayglow world the past is pictured fairer yet surely are we culpable to be led so astray.

0

Jun 3, 2016

Jun 3, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC

Antony_Glaser

Voiding

In this void I question serenity gazes are treated as lances, even freckles are friendless such is the self; a bouquet of inward reverence. Ashen is this dayglow world the past is pictured fairer yet surely are we culpable to be led so astray.

9