"glittery" poems
Out here there are no hearthstones,
Hot grains, simply. It is dry, dry.
And the air dangerous. Noonday acts queerly
On the mind's eye erecting a line
Of poplars in the middle distance, the only
Object beside the mad, straight road
One can remember men and houses by.
A cool wind should inhabit these leaves
And a dew collect on them, dearer than money,
In the blue hour before sunup.
Yet they recede, untouchable as tomorrow,
Or those glittery fictions of spilt water
That glide ahead of the very thirsty.
I think of the lizards airing their tongues
In the crevice of an extremely small shadow
And the toad guarding his heart's droplet.
The desert is white as a blind man's eye,
Comfortless as salt. Snake and bird
Doze behind the old maskss of fury.
We swelter like firedogs in the wind.
The sun puts its cinder out. Where we lie
The heat-cracked crickets congregate
In their black armorplate and cry.
The day-moon lights up like a sorry mother,
And the crickets come creeping into our hair
To fiddle the short night away.
30.8k
Hi there.
Sometimes it hurts to think.
I'm driving around in my hometown
I saw this old park that me and my friends would run and laugh and play at all the time.
We played cops and robbers
Lava Monster
Freeze tag
We acted like knights in strong armor and princesses with glittery dresses and we all slayed the dragons
Well now here I am staring at this old swing set that no one swings on anymore.
I used to think that I could touch the clouds with my feet if I swung high enough.
There is something so lively about a group of kids laughing and playing on a playground.
There is something so eerie about an old empty playground where no one goes.
That playground used to be so alive.
Now the swing creaks as it sways in the slight breeze.
You can almost hear faint whispers of the kids laughing from years before.
Now all those kids are adults with lives and responsibilities that are much more important than slaying a dragon.
The wood has splinters that get stuck in your fingers.
It is not shiny and fun anymore.
It used to be new
But I have found that everything changes eventually.
I wish people didn't leave so unexpectedly.
Anyways I am just rambling
but next time you see a playground
just try to look away.
it hurts to think too long
Bye.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
Barefoot, blistered and bleeding
She wanders in from the street
People stare, flabbergasted
Very odd, unheard of in fact
She doesn’t know her size
So like Cinderella, she tries them on
Randomly selecting pretty colours
Silvery, glittery heels
She twirls for the mirror
Sales assistant sighs
Wellingtons for the garden
If she had one!
Satin ice skates
She would glide on the icy pond
Pretty sandals
To feel the sand between her toes
Boring, black brogues
Perfect!
With no pennies in her pocket
She wanders back to the street
Barefoot, blistered and bleeding
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 5:59 AM UTC
sky's so cold
reminds me of her
she always blew me a cold kiss
eating ice cream when it's zero degrees
ice queen
she covers the sky
with an independent gloom
I'm waiting on the snow
she gives the best shows
wearing glittery shoes
eerie feeling
you aren't here with me
I almost felt you beside me
I need to let her go
move on
let the sky fall
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
Octavian Octopus
lives In the sea
with eight long tentacles
to hug you and me
He spends his days
with Seahorse Sabrina
who dreams longingly
of being a ballerina
Octavian wants so much
to be like his crony
but sadly, all of his
dance moves are bologna.
Still he felt that
he needed to impress
his funky fresh pal
in the pretty pink dress
so for hours, Octavian
practiced his spins and his twirls
he even got a costume
with glittery frills
So came the day
of the big talent show
He could show old Sabrina
that he too, was a pro
But alas,
half way through his act
his big squirmy arms
got caught in a crack
He tripped and he stumbled
and fell off the platform
tears started to fall
and away, he started to storm
"Stop!" a voice shouted at him
and he turned around to see
his best friend Sabrina
giggling with glee
"the very best dancer,
you don't need to be
if you really want to
be friends with me"
He smiled and she laughed
"you're very cool, you silly-old-goof,
but just be yourself,
not a stumbling doof"
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
We rode the night
like the back of the wind
high on incense and adrenaline
skating through alleys and street signs
The sky lay dark and glittery
as if it were covered in cheap jewelry
like the earrings that hanged from my lobes
that your lips touched when you kissed my neck
It was a night to remember
with the person you love
without one **** to be given
except about this moment.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
Please give me an umbrella!
It is so glittery,
Need to save them from daylight!
Please give me an umbrella!
It is so pouring,
Need to protect them from charging water!
Please give me an umbrella!
It is so scary, everyone carries gun,
At least I can carry the umbrella to protect them!
They are flimsy, delicate and hope for every one of us,
So, let me protect them!
Please give me an umbrella!
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Spreading bliss
Watching the glittery night
Feeling light
Inhaling the fresh air
With our loved ones
Listening the rythmic music of the hearts
Heading towards a colourful
Serene clean world
In silence....
Under the twinkling starlight
In a moonless night
Having a visual treat...
This diwali, burn the evils,
Let's bring the change!
This diwali, burst the ego,
Let's be the change!!
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
I had to play.
I had to play.
my stolen heart turned hard to *****
T’was me snubbed.
T’was me who snubbed.
And glittery diamonds to dirt, were clubbed.
But I had to play.
I had to play.
Cause he held all cards anyway.
I had tried to run.
I tried to run.
We were not there for love, but “fun”
And I HAD to play.
I YEARNED to play..
I was his
lonely.
desperate.
prey.
Now he's moved on..
He moves on.
leaves his
pathetic.
little.
pawns.
I'd had to play
I needed to play.
I didn’t want to get away..
He'd gotten bored
He gets bored.
He wiped away our checkered board.
Now he's not here.
He was never HERE...
And I'd do anything to feel him near.
Come play.
Come play.
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 5:24 PM UTC
White gauzy smoke is blown through the lily,
Floating on air,
Fondling leaves and dewdrops who're glittery,
A view so rare.
On a picture elegance is enjoyed,
A Polaroid,
Presented in a silver-gallery,
Who's gloomy ne'er.
With gauzy threads from a silky cocoon,
White as the moon,
Lily-hands craft blooming embroidery,
With flowers there.
Like gossamers this elegance's tender,
Lit and slender,
Shining at the afternoon silvery,
Which does not flare.
O Mâhî, this form is a web of rhymes,
Who slowly chimes,
With threads we're finally stitching poetry,
Crafted with care.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 6:44 AM UTC
The first afternoon I can recall,
you grabbed my hand
and took me outside.
You surprised me, I said.
Because that noon
is the first time
I saw that lake.
The second afternoon I can recall,
you called me by name
and we went outside.
I brought you lunch, and
we drank some
mind-boggling liquid
which you stole from that old man
living beside that lake.
We lied on the grass, and
if that was not a dream, I hope not,
I felt your breath with mine, and your lips
on mine.
The third afternoon I can recall,
you went to my bed
and shook me awake.
I was mesmerized to see you again,
but you’ve changed.
The colour in your eyelids, your cheeks,
and your lips was artificial.
If you haven’t spoken, I
wouldn’t be able to recognize you.
Sitting at the edge of my bed,
you’ve said the name of that lake,
and I knew it was you still.
The fourth afternoon I can recall,
you were 18 and still cried on my shoulder
not because you were hurt, but
because you were happy getting married.
Flowers, chairs, and a priest
waited for you beside that lake.
I was about to cry at that moment, knowing
it wasn’t me you were marrying.
The fifth afternoon I can recall,
you yelled at me,
“I can’t live this way!”
I asked you why, but
you didn’t tell me, you showed me.
That kiss beside that lake was wrong.
In all of the reasons why it was wrong,
I found one which is right.
You loved me the way I loved you.
The sixth afternoon I can recall,
you left me
alone beside that lake.
Yes, you loved me, but
as you have said you need to love yourself more.
I can’t hold you any blame for leaving,
I understood, and I lived with the promise
that you’ll come back to me –
in one piece or even in ashes.
The seventh afternoon I can recall,
you were barely alive.
You looked old, with dark circles around your eyes.
You hid them with glittery make-up.
“This lake haven’t changed.” you said.
I looked at that lake,
its beauty and all its glory
looked nothing
next to you.
The eighth afternoon I can recall
was the worst of them all.
You didn’t call, you didn’t leave,
you didn’t cry, you didn’t go to my bed.
And you weren’t barely alive.
Someone wrote me a letter, not you,
to take you where you and bring you back home.
You didn’t find yourself, you’ve lost it
To yhe hero
in your veins, who ate you in your sleep.
This afternoon,
I carry you, with all but my shattered heart,
inside a jar.
My tears are one with that lake,
but I’ll bury you beside it.
I know you’re happy.
Your soul one with that lake.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 7:03 AM UTC
I looked to the stars to see what I could find,
and I sighed with exasperation at the wonders in sight.
For lo, behold, there were more than millions,
and poor old me, choosing one just wasn’t an option.
If you gaze at them all at once, you notice there is a sky,
but if you pick solely one, you find yourself willing to fly.
One of these twinkling wonders might be you someday,
for the world knows whom it should repay.
Focus on one tree, you lose sight of the forest.
But look at the forest, you lose sight of your tree.
Find your star, hunt it down, and you just might,
you just might, you just might,
absorb that glittering gold glimmer of light.
Then its all uphill from there,
as you shoot up,
and reach forward
and outward,
and suddenly,
you fall back down.
But this time, you have your star,
so climbing all the way up, it can’t be that far.
After hauling and hiking, you reach the top.
and as you gaze at the bottom, you start to wonder.
Wonder about what? I cannot say.
But you’re at the top, you have to stay.
Since it’s you who made it all the way.
L’appel du vide, you start to sway.
Then it hits you. It hits you hard.
Back you go! as you go down.
Down again, down on your knees!
But as you look in its eyes, your glittery golden glimmer lights it up,
and you can’t help but notice what wasn’t there before.
It cannot be, but surely, it is.
A trace of affection, gone as quickly as it appears.
As you get up, you swear it smiles,
and when it disappears with a gust of wind,
you bet on your life you heard it whisper,
I’ll see you at the top, you’ll get here quicker.
And you scramble up again, surefooted and strong,
as music surrounds you, life’s very own song.
Your ascent slows to a stop, and you look around.
Many are there, whom you never found.
And in the centre, who else could it be?
Your very good friend, whom you mistook for an enemy.
It glides towards you, and you don’t wince,
Because now you know, that which you’ve known long since.
Life pushes you down, not out of hate,
but so you learn, to open up the gate.
Now what did you learn? How can you explain?
What you’ve spent years on, things almost impossible to gain.
But you don’t give away the answer, it’s not yours to impart.
You must help out, pick up all who’ve lost heart.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
When I look up into the night sky,
I feel a sense of longing.
When I gaze up into the heavens,
I feel something deep, down within my soul.
I feel as if I've once soared through the universe.
I feel as if I've seen the distant explosions of color
and sprinkled stardust beyond our horizon.
I feel as if I've seen the far-off galaxies
and mysterious worlds.
It all seems so familiar
and maybe it's the ancient wisdom
tucked down in our DNA that knows its point of origin.
Our very atoms were once a part of something
much larger than we can imagine.
Our souls are made of glittery stardust
and maybe that's why we always
find ourselves looking up into
the great unknown.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
Stretching and shouldering night away a sun crouches
to birth black's ousting
by one more empty circle of dark's hollowed pouches
then outs in sparkling showers.
Spangled with myriad star-labour unfolding membranes,
like numberless leaves
dreamers listen to soft serenades as the universe favours
lullaby-songs to deep breathing.
Silvered surface shivers with night-eyes as glittery dust
follows with dart-swift
flight each soul's winged journey while murmuring such
mysteries to those sleeping still.
Glimmers on sightless horizon reveal light's celebration
while untrodden dew
newly writhing in close-capped life waits inertia's frame
stirring to shake before rising.
Piercing the brain time's needle regathers worn threads
and remembers that more
sown seed means now-grown grain needs re-collection
in daylight's mind-aware storage.
Open-eyed, naught is over as hinging on less or more,
sun, with slumber done,
now hurries to open the thin partition between yawns
of torpidity to more hours won.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC
A bracelet of blue upon her hand
Made it easier for me to imagine
The way they loved each other;
I saw his eyes in every rock,
In emotions solidified to glistening bits;
I saw his attachment to her soul
Like pendants hanging from her arm
I saw his eyes in every piece of stone,
Now cracked;
In the midst of the serenity in a glittery blue gem
I saw collateral damage.
I saw hope in her eyes
And dry tears accumulated on the side lines
For she decided that, that is where they belong;
She clenched to a cup of tea
Like they were his arms,
Warm as always,
Soothing as usual,
Just the way it was when he was around.
I saw his imprints on her fingers
I saw him fiddling with her words,
Although they weren’t much,
For some words she decided to keep for him
Some words are just between them…
And those were the words that mattered most.
Dear martyr I saw in stone,
They wrote your death sentence
But I wrote you sentences on my bones,
I dreamt of a country for you
I dreamt that you would be in it
But all that’s left of you is stone.
Bracelets cuddling hands;
Hands that wrote on papers
The future of tomorrow.
Dear martyr I saw in her eyes,
You are safe there;
But it is very dangerous in my mind.
You have drowned in her tears
Rested upon her eye lashes,
You swam your way in between
Her wavy hair,
You have held her hands
With mugs of warm tea.
Dear martyr I fumbled on my papers,
My papers will not fade away,
My words will collapse on buildings
Destroying walls they have built to hide the truth
Unwiring bombs they have planted
As they try rewire our minds;
My voice will be ours
And your voice will rest.
For your place is in the vacancies
Between every piece
Of a bracelet
That had you
Written all over.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
i want to feel the rush,
the tingly fireworks under my skin,
the buzzing sparks of awakeness.
i want to feel the bubble burst in my chest.
i want to dance. i want to ride the music
like a rollercoaster,
i want the thrill of the next drop,
the next wave of euphoria
pulsating through my veins
like electric current conducted by
all the goings-on around me
i want your energy and my energy
mixing together in the air around us
like a glittery galaxy milky-way aura,
a sanctuary of our own vibrations,
a place where our hearts are huge
and our egos small.
a place of peace, of love,
of unity, and respect,
of higher elevations
and acceptance for all.
can't we just do drugs?
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 6:30 AM UTC
For five years I kept a suicide note in a glittery pink heart-shaped box in the bottom of my closet
Until one day I was strong enough to tear it up and throw it away
This summer I saved a suicide note to my desktop
And I don't know when I'll be strong enough to press delete
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC
Twinkling stars fall from the night sky
and gently descend to the earth-
Like a dew drop kissing a blade of grass,
the glittery white star nestles herself amongst the others-
The stars sugar coat the vast green space
and eliminate color from below.
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
for Mr.Cole's "Magic" assignment
The Magician
Moments of wonder
performed with theatrical pazaz
A prolonged instance of dumbstruck amazement
---
A slight of hand
or a glittery distracting explosion
creating a captivated audience screaming for *More!
More!
More!
Fool us again
Test our I.Qs
See if we're sane*
---
But to perform...
---
I need more money the magician boldly insists
Our hands ****** into our pockets, to our wrists
---
But wait...
Silence...
Then a collective gasp
There on the table under lock and clasp
---
All of our wallets
Plain to see
And the future money of each baby
---
Did we clap?
Oh, how we heartily clapped
And cheered and laughed like we were handicapped
---
Then the show stopped
But we still clapped, stamping our feet
As the Magician strode off stage back to 10 Downing Street
TA DAAA!
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Little Box talks back
With a new set of teeth
And pink gums
A fake nose and a wax mustache
She disguises her voice
To sound like Groucho
•
Little Box opens up
And cries to her psychiatrist
I don’t know why they hate me
I’m such a sweetheart
I volunteer at the zoo
And teach Mandarin
To their bratty children
•
Little Box is not happy to see you
So she closes herself up for months
Years, decades, and two millennia!
She tacks up a sign that says
Nirvana
•
Little Box is undead
She sleeps all day in a coffin
Hands over chest
At night she cruises the mall
For juicy victims
She prefers type A
But AB if she has to
What can you say
Vampires can’t be choosy
She likes your stupid brother
•
Little Box is on the psychiatry couch
Everybody hates me
Nobody loves me
Little Box lies on her side
And spills her guts
•
What’s in Little Box
A perfect orchid
A chocolate-covered strawberry
A new iPhone
With a glittery sleeve
Amber earrings from Pushkin
Keys to a new Porsche
A retro Chanel brooch
A Getty scion’s left ear
A Czar’s *****
Gifts so rare
Please don’t stare
•
What’s in Little Box
Rancid chow mein
A sliver of cold pizza
Last week’s hummus
You’re a starving orphan
From East Brooklyn
And you’ll eat it
•
So you want to **** Little Box
You want to know her secret
She won’t open up
She won’t give it up
And you are genuinely repelled
By her filthy ribbon
•
You want to DO the Little Box
You are a sorry story
You big creep
Why don’t you get off the couch and find
A real girlfriend!
•
Boss Box
White, square, and without a soul!
•
Please don’t analyze Little Box
She’s just cardboard clogging the landfill
Her mother Precious Jade Purse
Has been regifted
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 1:58 AM UTC
*Your eyes are like ocean
So deep blue and clear
They hold such a treasure
Yet it is all deep inside.
The ocean is calm, no wind blows
Over its divine serenity
The warmth of it is worth to dive in
And discover yet what is undiscovered
So your eyes tell me to do
I know the ocean is calm
When your heart is peaceful.
Yet sometimes I see grey
Cumulonimbus clouds have covered
The deep blue ocean and the wind
It is strong and severe I feel
The foamy tender waves have grown
And hit ashore, they do come fast
The ocean rises and some of its water
Pours out and falls down on your cheeks.
Not often is the ocean so sad
The sun is keeping it merry and blue
It can be wonder to see
When the stars come down from sky
And take a bath in the blue water
It is so bright and glittery
I can see all the radiance
Just by looking in your deep blue ocean eyes.*
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
today i bring you
no glittery greeting card
no filling-station flowers
only a very special offer
you cant refuse
(i wont let you)
a part used bargain
from the hearts department
bruised and scarred
but still beating
and its yours for nothing
do with it as you will
only
pause before you throw it away
(please dont throw it away)
if you dont want it now
save it for later
keep it like a lucky penny
press it with rose petals in a book
put it at the back of a drawer
take it out from time to time
and remember
or find it maybe when youre looking
for something else
and think of me and smile
(i hope youll smile)
but please dont throw it away
its bound to come in handy
even if you never use it
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 8:42 AM UTC
From the bottom you'll rise
Colorful glittery wings,
Let them spread and spark
Illuminate the sky so dark
And shine like fireworks does.
©kg
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 8:20 AM UTC
A bit of sunshine
A bit of magic will do
Not a big banquet
Not too many people
Maybe a little privacy
Maybe a little "my time"
For midnight,
Be it your soft kisses
My family,Oh dear!
Not fancy cake surprises
And as I sleep in your arms
May I dream a paradise
Not money,nor hard cash
Mornings be like,
A slight nip in the air
Sunrise from my bedroom
Not zillion missed messages
I want the day,at peace
Like a poet's wish
Simple,chaste,crystal clear
Not fake "Happy Birthdays"
I want the day,
Maybe full of good vibes
Among true people,
Among trustworthy friends
Not mere acquaintances.
As I drove past,
The air,
I want to feel it,
Making my hair dance
I wanna face its coldness
The soft stiffness upon my cheeks
Not mere cigarrate puffs
I cherish a memorable picture
Over trillion pout-faced selfies
Well,all for my birthday,
I want to cut,
This citys' madness
Not just chocolate cakes
Take me far away as you can
To rugged mountains,to blue rivers
Fairytale isnt it,
I want it real
Just the scenario in front of my eyes
Searching for you,
I hope to see you by me,the next time
I wanna blow dandelions
Not just burning candles
I wanna run past the barren fields
Dressed up in florals
Not the dark glittery blacks'
Well,all for my birthday.
I wanna live these moments
Tyind to decode this one day
Not snazzy gifts,nor over-the-top clicks
I want my birthday to be like,
I am just 17
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 5:03 AM UTC
She knows it is something to eat
Smells like what she’d fancy
as yummy … but not quite
so She smoothly zigzags along
Forbidden Chords
Smells - Tosses - Hops - delicately Licks
and Jumps at once
back to Shadows wherein she always hides
paints Numerous Cooler Tones with her Yawns
Lest her Glittery Eyes
a Pair that never shuts
despite Days Seasons Nights
I approach silently
beside her
Not to bother
As if Wiser
because I look taller
-I guess-
Stupid! Stupid!
I just realize now...
An elegance of furry highness lying aside
For her ‘of me’ means
Playmateness just
none about silly bossiness among us
With me
She does her pats Gingerly
Not to hurt
As if
as if I could not handle some
Innocuous Spice
But I mind not
if she finds this way alright
because I trust her nature
with all of my broken Hearts
And let go
the all of me
Fully
to the fury of the Furry
come on babe Hit me
Come! Come Now!
arghhh!
Bites She!
swiftly and tenderly brushes afterwards
happens this
All the -outta my sight- Time
but she also
Lets me win sometimes
win ...I guess. ?. Purposefully
Anyway Yeah
Maybe it’s Love
dunno why or how
I wonder and smile then Cry
aiaiaiaiai
until a PATZ Paw
shoots my Pathos
outta Sight
Come on Babe
Hit me!
Come now! Come!
Argghh!
:))))
Bites She!
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC