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Red is the color of passion and rage
Red is the color that keeps me turning every page.

Orange, though it seems calm, is the color of fire
It’s the color that holds all my desires.

Yellow makes me crazy and wild
But is also the color that makes me soft and mild.

Green is the color as strange as it may seem,
holds the key to my fantasies and wildest dreams.

Blue is the color of my oceans of tears
Blue is the sky with all my fears.

Indigo, although pretty, makes me miserable because it’s always
  Stuck in the middle of being happy and sad
  Stuck in the middle of being mad or glad.

Violet is last not least the color that could make me “tres triste”,
Happy or hunger for food
It is the color that decides my mood.

But what happens when all these colors bind
They make my heart
       My soul
       My mysterious mind.
Read more at http://******-in-oncology
Esther Dec 2017
there are always two sides to the same story
two voices singing the same song
maybe i was never enough
maybe i was, more than enough
sometimes i wonder if you wonder the same things

have you ever had the thought of running back
to put a semi-colon instead of
a full stop to our infinite possibilities?
do you sometimes fantasize us two
lying on paper-thin ice
in Alaska
and having no fears
because i'm holding your hand?
under the green, blue, pink, purple, yellow, red
aurora borealis
and millions of stars?
have our heads tilt toward each other
at 4:09 am
in our fluffy snow jackets and boots
and lean in for a forbidden kiss
just
one
kiss
then go back and gaze at the Milky Way
with more thoughts in our minds than there are stars reflecting in our eyes
imagine a place that is ours
it's where a wise man confused reality for dreams
it's in the middle of nowhere
in our deepest fantasies
it's where we hold on to each other
and everyone else simply doesn't exist...

at 4:09 am
i wonder
if sometimes
you wonder about me too.
Sadly, fantasies aren't real. For Jason.
Onoma Aug 2018
fantasies thrive on locational

discord, where scenes are set

in senuous shades.

think

scents and shedding of trails.

varying frictions, that reveal

nothing but the ***** truth

too stark to see.

one masterful ******, a stowed

away ******...gone into when

havens cry: safe.

not always so...sometimes fantasies

become too vivid--and the object of

your fantasy watches you run away

soaked.
Absent Minded Aug 2018
To say I have
FANTASIES
Of suicide,
Puts it lightly.

I think about death
Like gangsters and politicians
Think about money.

I think about death,
Like your dog thinks about
Sunny days,
Pork bones,
And belly rubs.

I don't think about death.
I don't fantasize about death.

I obsess on it.
Fantasies and dreams,
lollipops
and queens.
Happiness and love are
the only things that
can be seen.
Somewhere out there are my dreams.
Now I just
have to go after them with
a scheme.
I have no idea on what to title this poem. If you have any suggestions, please comment and I will take it into consideration.
Caitlin Jan 27
I cannot escape you,
even in my dreams.
Sometimes they are fantasies,
showing how I wish we were.
Sometimes they are nightmares,
reminding me what we really are.
Both torment me.
I realize my last two have both started with I cannot, but to be honest I do feel helpless when it comes to this “muse”
Sam Hammond Aug 2018
When you're hooked on skin,
No drug holds its power.
All the seeds of sin within
At once begin to flower.

Desperation spreads.
Self control is fleeting.
Every ***** thought is led
Through fantasies repeating.

Soon the pressure peaks.
Strength begins to taper.
Every gush of passion leaks
And soils the tissue paper.
Rich Hues Aug 2018
But we trod grapes and paddled on,
Through a neap tide of Sauvignon,
Drowning our disappointment in drink,
Above a pale octopus poached in its own ink.

Castaway and stowaway using another name,
Fantasies swapped on the website that we blame,
Until in the blood-black sea we agree to give it a try,
And I wash up in the morning beneath my mother's palid thigh.
English Jam Oct 2018
An orange sun shimmering with heat
Blankets its cloud all over our heads
Your eyes fill with wonder and stars
Gazing at the trees unevenly spread
We talk of fantasies and breathless sighs
And romance we have never known
While all the butterflies vibrate with ecstasy
And the sky, into our heads, is sewn

Little crystals melt on our tongues
Honey dripped bees infect our sights
Faintly, on the other side of the desert
Our threat awaits, patient as night
Orange sun begins to paint the world
As leaves fall like words murmured
Buzzing hummingbirds cry out in alarm
And the edge of our vision is blurred
laura Jul 2018
in the cloister, we had coffee
talking something about the soul
today in the cold but sunlit court
with a good girlfriend of mine
is when it struck me:

a pretty Christian girl kind of day
before me, a butterfly kind of day
winging the dark fantasies away
start obeying and getting good habits
would have stayed had i any money
to get the rest of my college degree
kind of day

filling your heart with my replacements
to match my false interpretations
of your expectations of me
Flashing lights from the window
How they blanket on my face!
A calling back to reality
That leaves without a trace

of dreams and of fantasies
and of bright morning stars
as memories and fragments
lead us back to the start

ringing bells, closing doors
and two-hour dates
long walks, without a tire
no, we don't to race

in and out the halls we go
as i try to tell you something
chasing tails - back and forth
to ropes we still keep clinging

Ah, tethered souls! Yes, you and i
Search deep in each other's eyes
as the mourning wakes my soul again
reality becomes my prize
see the fire in my eyes
see my heart without disguise
Chelsea Primera May 2017
In go the stabs to my synthetic skin.
Sew my eyes,
recreate them with the charm of Rumpelstiltskin’s tricks.
Stitch my lips,
Color them with the scarlet of Snow White’s cursed apple.
Snip my hairs,
String together the golden threads of Rapunzel’s deathly charm.
Stuff my *******,
Fill them with the ingredients of witches’ wildest fantasies.
Mold my legs,
Fit them in for the glasswork of Cinderella shoes.
Tattoo my heart,
make each beat a praiseworthy beauty.
A poem about plastic surgery and standardized beauty.
Cné Jul 2017
If you were my sheets, and at my beck and call
fulfilling all my fantasies, into you, I would fall.
You'd cradle me so gently, and massage me everywhere
releasing all my juices, and all my  stress, and cares.

In splendor we'd heat up the room, and I'd crinkle every sheet
and when we were apart, I'd rejoice, every time we meet.
Pillows would cradling my face and head, where jasmine scented rests
blending of our fluids as our bodies, orgasmically attest.

We'd fall asleep together, and spoon throughout the night
and in the morning waking, to unimaginable delights.
Your hands of silken sheets caressing, exciting every nerve
giving me all the pleasures, and climaxes, in you, I am immersed!
TF actually wrote this and I changed a few words to fit an artist statement to go with the painting that is posted as my cover. He graciously allowed my to post as a collaboration. Thank you TF.
ConnectHook Jan 2016
My fantasies turned blonde in ‘seventy-six.

Bjorn, Benny, flickas, sailed  from East to West.

Santa Lucia never shone so blessed

as she did in my private Euro-mix.

Perfect pop longs for that feminine fix.

Cassette wheels whirred –  branding, then impressing

grooves upon the brain; my thrall confessing

love for Nordic light (in Disco metrics).

The names still strike flames, kindling bright renown:

Frida, Agnetha  –  your longships linger

Your Viking faces sacked my harbor town.

portaging hope to this shipwrecked singer,

enwreathing smiles to reach our further shore.

I Do… (times five – and will forevermore).
ABBA make me cry in my beer ever single freaking time.
So why not re-post my epic tribute poem...
Cné Aug 2017
Pristine dreams of gossamer
in fantasies of white
This is what i hope will guide
my slumber on this night.

Rainbows in a sky of blue
with clouds of grey beyond,
Ripples lapping lilypads,
upon a golden pond,

Butterflies and hummingbirds
in acrobatic arcs,
Shade in grass beneath a tree
with choruses from larks,

A cool breeze on a summer's day,
my love within my arms,
Clouds that block the blazing sun,
a coyish smile that charms,

Stimulants for senses
in a countless, vast array,
Gratitude for blessings
i enjoy most every day,

All these things and more i ask
when sleep mine eyes doth close,
But most of all, a peace within,
and love that always grows.
Cné Jan 2018

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Where love elopes and hopes fly high.
Where songs of truth are sang to thee
This night alone to set us free.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Where fate abounds in your design.
We’ll tell a tale of ecstasy
To fill this void from you to me.

Within my dreams, in you - I’ll wait
To find me in this abstract state.
Together time is out of reach
This surreal moment belongs to each.

Within my dreams, for you - I’ll find
That hidden escape within our mind.
We’ll banish all worry and cut all strings
That keep us from joining and fleeing on wings.

Within my dreams, for you - I’ll be
Forever yours eternally.
The one real place we can feel alive
Where all our fantasies live and thrive.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
Within this realm as we collide
Hold on tight ‘fore dawn of light
Both far away and out of sight.

Meet me in my dreams tonight
This moment I’ll treasure of timeless flight.
Where thoughts unfurl and feelings entwine;
Where I am yours and you are mine.

Adilson Smith Apr 2017
I adulate the extraordinary.
Catastrophe
And ill-repute
Are my prime fantasies.

All it takes is ambivalence
In an innocent sentence,
And I’m instantly different:

Smarting with grief in imagined realities
Of collective derision,
And public shame.
bulletcookie Sep 2018
waking morning comes home
arising to dawn's dimmer light
where curtained clouds roam
off maritime journey's might

rattles from tail's end of evening
******* this dreamer's calm
prompts morning's early weaning
from slumber acres balm

turn these covers open eyed
let soft fantasies vaporize
tuned to moment's assembling blocks
auguring dayspring's destined docks

-cec
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