"highlights" poems
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.
But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion.
These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.
Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.
Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.
Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.
This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...
See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?
This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.
Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.
Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
The Waterfall,
Is blue with silver highlights.
It appears clear and clean,
Rapidly flowing into the stream.
The water is frothy,
Where it falls to hit the water.
At least things like this,
Are caught when they fall.
The sunlight still shining,
The water doesn't mind.
It continues it's journey,
Searching for it's destination.
The waterfall.
It's beautiful,
A sight to all.
But how do we know,
What's hiding underneath?
We hide pain,
All in our fake smiles.
What if this waterfall,
Hides things in it's beauty?
If we wait long enough,
Do you think we could see?
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
TO PUT the art and talent of Mindanaoan fashion design into the spotlight, Kagay’anon fashion designers put their hands together to organize the 5th Mindanao Fashion Summit at the Limketkai Center Rotunda from August 4 to 6, every 4 p.m.
“Being a core event of the Higalaay festival, the opening salvo, the Mindanao Fashion Summit can really highlight fashion designers here in Cagayan de Oro and also in different points of Mindanao to let everyone see what they can do in the world of fashion design especially now that there are only so few opportunities for these designers to show off their works to the public. This is why we have the Mindanao fashion Summit because Kagay-anon designers believe that even if they join national fashion shows like the Philippine Fashion week, most of them still aren't getting the right encouragement as a fashion designer.” said Robbie Pamisa, the overall organizer of the event.
The Fashion Summit is a three-day event composed of seven sub-categories such as the Mindanaoan collection, the Menswear collection, and the Ororama orange collection for the first day, the Guest Designers’ collection, the Fashion Institute of the Philippines collection and the Loop Lifestyle Fashion Show for the second day, and the Holiday Grand collection for the third day which will serve as the culmination of the fashion event.
Mindanaoan Fashion designers from Cagayan de Oro as well as Davao, Butuan, Iligan, and Bukidnon have come to showcase their talents. Some of the fashion geniuses of the event include Alma Mae Roa, Angela Soriano, Ann Semblante, Benjie Manuel, Boogie Musni Rivera, Gil Macaibay III, John Mark Magellan’s, Joshua Guibone, Juniel Doring, Kiko Domo, Mark Christopher Yaranon, and Mavy Cooper de Leon.
One of the highlights of the event is the Oro Fashion Designers’ Guild and the Designers Assembly featuring a collection of clothes using Mindanao material such as the Mindanao silk. Sponsors such as Ororama and The Loop Towers will also be showcasing their products in the fashion event.
“Even student fashion designers from the Fashion Institute of the Philippines have been encouraged to participate so that they will be able to experience how a fashion show works. This is also a way for us to fulfill our mission to be another avenue for fashion designers to show what they have,” Paisa said.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
he's alive like the sun
shines like a golden light
nothing can stop me
from loving him tonight
there were times I thought maybe
sometimes life can get in the way
if only just one more night here
then have my heart today
something in the flicker of his eye
highlights in the space all around
vibrating with the earth at our feet
this feeling, it just can't be beat
maybe this is all a silly dream
or steam inside this brain of mine
can't help but think of you tonight
I only hope you think of me too
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
— - —
Call it magic if you may
the sun, the moon’s pray
Constantly chasing each other
day after night, night after day
Such a perfect contradiction they make
Putting together the right ingredients
to complement each coloured ray
When one were to fall the other
would silently rise, filling its place
With every small step they take,
synchronicity follows without ever
missing a beat
So on they move
Completely balanced,
without anybody taking the lead
In the beauty they unfold upon us
this has to be
one of the most wondrous spectacles
if you ask me
Words are unable to measure
by any means their lightning show
how they glow with a radiance
that highlights their power and control
Or how they never let
each other down
Or stand in each other’s sway
No envy I feel
nor does appreciate is able to say
The truths about their nature,
always ready to unveil
hidden in every passage lay
the constant sacrifices they have made
The forces that pulls
each other so close
the same it pushes away, too
If one steps out of place,
all falls out of space and will be let loose
With lightyears of travelling
they unified their bond but are still
bound to live in separation
I admire you,
from a far
An admiration so magnificent
it cannot be free
One of the most magical things
enabling us to see
Right on time
as ever so soon
The dance
between the sun and the moon.
— - —
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
When I woke for work this morning
I wish I'd stayed in bed
But, I perservered and showered
I could sleep more when I'm dead
Another ache, another pain
My eyes were sore and red
But, I had to keep on moving
I could sleep more when I'm dead
Age is creeping up on me
In fact, I know it's here
It lets me know it's present
It gets louder every year
I can not do the things I did
I can't see what once was
I know it's not technology
I know age...yes, age is the main cause
I have to sit to tie my shoes
Even that takes all my breath
I cough most times I do them up
It scares my wife to death
I used to go out for a run
Each day when I got home
But, now I like the company
I can't go outside alone
Age is creeping up on me
In fact, I know it's here
It lets me know it's present
It gets louder every year
I can not do the things I did
I can't see what once was
I know it's not technology
I know age...yes, age is the main cause
My hair, is grey with brown highlights
At least, where it still lies
It's growing like a **** field
Above both of my eyes
I have more types of medicine
Than most people half my age
My glasses are now trifocal
So I can see what's on the page
Age is creeping up on me
In fact, I know it's here
It lets me know it's present
It gets louder every year
I can not do the things I did
I can't see what once was
I know it's not technology
I know age...yes, age is the main cause
I hear as well as I once did
As long as all is quiet
I didn't think you'd believe that one
But, I thought,....oh hell, let's try it
Spicy foods, don't start me off
My stomach they just turn
I have a little purple pill
To help with the heart burn
Age is creeping up on me
In fact, I know it's here
It lets me know it's present
It gets louder every year
I can not do the things I did
I can't see what once was
I know it's not technology
I know age...yes, age is the main cause
*** now there's a topic
I would rather watch tv
My wife still wants to have it
All that's missing's ...me
I talk just like my grandpa did
About the good old days
How we had to walk uphill to school
And how it was uphill...both ways
Age is creeping up on me
In fact, I know it's here
It lets me know it's present
It gets louder every year
I can not do the things I did
I can't see what once was
I know it's not technology
I know age...yes, age is the main cause
Age....it is a nasty thing
You don't see it, but it comes
All my body is receding
My hair, my brain, my gums
I know I'll never beat it
I'll learn to live with it instead
so, for now...I'll just go along
I'll get my rest when I am dead.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
I hope i'm fooling everybody
With my fake gimmick of a cover up
And I hope it doesn't highlight my lack of beauty
But the only thing i fear it highlights is the lie that drips from my fake
*"I don't give a ****
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC
A face pastel fresh like spring flowers
i could stare in the face of beauty for hours
through the heat of the day
even if the sky turns gray
i brought an umbrella to keep the showers away
in love we fall,in bliss we stay
together forever like nights turn to day
a never ending love story happily ever afters keep storm clouds away
the glue of togetherness keeps inbetweeners at bay
you and i lovebirds forever at play
pink highlights of sun-kissed hibiscus
I'd give the world not to miss this
candle lights glow as the Rev. presents Mr. ans Mrs.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, tell me what suits,
Soft natural highlights, or strong punk roots?
Auburn red or beach blonde hair,
Brunette with greens, or short blunt rare?
Mermaid midnight old balayage blues,
Grey ombré curled with lilac hues?
Lemon yellow paint or neon spice,
Purple color that matches my hazel eyes!
Tousled, textured, twirled and twined,
We could take it to the front, or let it all behind.
Black hair with beautiful mahogany dye,
Fringes looking pretty every day passing by.
Straight hair with an asymmetrical bob,
Lips painted red, formal and hot.
Tie buns and bows with colorful clips,
Grow pink hair long, till they reach my hips.
Fish tail braid like a Boho chic,
All pastel shades spread, across the width.
Blonde and bright, they are in my sight,
Soon to be a celebrity, wearing them uptight.
Burgundy wine perm, crazy long,
Every hair color has a song.
There are chances that they may look all wrong,
But hey! I'm not scared to just play along!
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.
My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.
A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.
A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.
Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.
A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.
Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.
Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.
Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.
A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.
A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)
A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.
A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.
A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.
An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.
A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.
A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.
Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.
A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.
Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
Bitterness seems to be the ego of my tongues taste buds
The story of life never really begun
The future is torn by what we have become
I still stand proudly holding congratulation balloons and chewing gum
I pop the bubble as I hum a song
Not noticing the buzzard telling me to move on
The ghost seems to place himself next to my feet
whispering with every step he sees
Trying to show me my deceit
Although I walk careless or maybe hopelessly
Encouraging myself the future is still bright
When in reality it is only fake highlights
Held together with dead ends and a burnt head
We have no other opportunity
Only a possibility of being the lucky one
I lose my fun as I sit here popping my chewing gum
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
Unshared memories,
is there anything that’s worse?
Unshared memories
separations final curse
Unshared memories
highlights of yesteryear
Unshared memories
bring to my eyes another tear
Unshared memories
of us dancing in the rain
Unshared memories
just one more “never again”
Unshared memories
of the way we used to laugh
Unshared memories
become the painful aftermath
Unshared memories
at least no more with me
Unshared memories
now he’s where I used to be
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 1:58 PM UTC
What bad could happen to a boy of sixteen, walking through the woods trying to find a nice spot to smoke and read Slaughterhouse-Five?
But now that I'm thinking about it, Stephen King may or may not have written a book about this exact question, more or less.
And as everyone who has read The Gunslinger Volume Six: Song of Sussanah, knows, everything Stephen King writes happens. Stephen King is God, in this sense.
Nevertheless, I found a nice spot, next to a dried out creek bed, complete with a gallon bucket and the scent of lavender.
And so I sat, and rolled a couple cigarettes, and dove into the mind and time traveling of Billy Pilgrim.
Sitting there, on that bucket, old Kurt spoke to me.
The previous owner of this copy of Slaughterhouse-Five also spoke to me.
With highlights and underlines he allowed me into his mind and thought processes while reading this book.
He underlined every passage that had to do with the Tralfamadorians views on time and the coexistence of every moment.
Soon, it became dark and I could no longer read, having only one cigarette left, I headed home.
Fifteen minutes later I was home, and if Stephen King had written about this event he wrote it as it happened. With no harm and no foul.
And maybe I dislike him for that
and maybe I don't understand why he did that,
why he would wrote a boring tale of a boring boy going on a boring walk in some boring Northern California forest.
And this writing does not feel complete but the Pabst is starting to kick in so I think I'll leave this one alone for now.
And Stephen King **** it, I can't even think of a title for this piece of ****
Nevermind, I got it.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
#
A girl that I know is brighter then the rest
She has golden highlights dyed into her hair
She's got pale blue eyes that reflect the world
And she's got a gorgeous smile that makes her glow
The girl that I know is quite small
She's around 5'3 which is like nothing at all
She likes to state that This way im closer to hell
But I laugh it off and it's all quite swell
The girl that I know is fairly easy going
She's quiet and sweet and somehow outgoing
She sarcastic, witty and a bit of a flirt
But in all honesty she is secretly hurt
She's got a few boys that she strings along for fun
But that's all platonic to all except one
It was her little secret, at least for awhile
Until her best friend told everyone within a mile
In a split instant the whole country knew
People knew her business and her reputation grew
People began to think that she was surely a ****
But you dont know her at all so keep your mouth shut
Her best friends a hypocrite and we all knew that well
Without realizing it, she had made her life hell
Telling her boyfriend everything is good and all
But there comes a certain point where there is a line to draw
This girl that I knew had no more secrets, none at all
As she told me this, her tears fell like a waterfall
***how ******* dare she!***
she's your best friend I exclaim
How could she do this, Has she no shame
The girl that I know isint like the stories
She's overreacts about little things and gets quite worried
she's bright, brave and fairly clever
She's a black belt, a sensei, she's so much better
She complains about her three buttons while everyone else has four
And she talks about her life and about the simple things she adores
So how is it that people still call her a *****
We go to the gym and then eat pizza instead
We watch barbie movies and fall asleep in her bed
We talk about life on an old rooftop
While eating buckets of ice cream till we have to stop
I know the girl better then she knows herself
I know the stories better then anyone else
I know the scars hidden deep within her eyes
And I know and have seen the tears that she has cried
So how can the world be so cruel?
When all that's she's done is just gone to school
She talked and became friends with some guys
So how can people create such lies?
All people think its their right to judge
But what right does it give you to hold such a grudge?
You say its just a joke everyone spread rumors
Let's me hear you say it again, when its your turn as the loser
So tell me then, is that to your humor? .
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 12:21 AM UTC
Shimmer highlights
Glitter heels
Make me dress
To his appeal
Make me a magnet
Of attraction
Objectify me
A distraction
Let me be an unholy thing
touched
Besmirched
On your whim
Be my prince
On my bed
I’m sleeping now
Between your legs
Saint Malady
Patron of the honest house
Enter through the backdoor
And let it be nothing more
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
Would you
Allow me
To sip
From your succulent lips
As night
Seductively slides
Against a crimson stained sky?
Would you
Allow me
To trace
The contours of your aching body
As moonlight
Tempting highlights
Your passion filled form?
Would you
Allow me
To teasingly
******
You
Until...
We're both exhausted?
© 2013-2014 Peach
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
I cultivated the land
Make offerings of grass to god
No reward from above
My brother gives him a lamb
Receives holly reward
Abel come to field I have something for you
Violence is rampant
Media highlights deaths
Killers makes history
Fingers are pointed
Desensitized people
This is our culture of violence
Rise up against me
Talk out of place
I will destroy you, your family, your place
You are just 1 more impaled
I take pleasure from you pain
80000 dead Viad rules you
Violence is rampant
Media highlights deaths
Killers makes history
Fingers are pointed
Desensitized people
This is our culture of violence
Take them from their land
Whip them make them your own
I am your master sitting on a throne
Thousands will die to see the light
Mr. Lincoln slavery is our right
Your blood is needed time to fight
Violence is rampant
Media highlights deaths
Killers makes history
Fingers are pointed
Desensitized people
This is our culture of violence
Now go and shoot up the schools
**** innocent children
Lets look at the problem
Violence has been normalized
Indifference to death
Shots ring out, who cares, one more is dead
Violence is rampant
Media highlights deaths
Killers makes history
Fingers are pointed
Desensitized people
This is our culture of violence
Stop all the killings
This is our culture of violence
Stop all the killings
This is our culture of violence
Stop all the killings
This is our culture of violence
-------------------
Written By Victor Timmons
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
When her husband glances at me;
I observe tiny highlights of speculation
glittering on the treacherous
surface of his intelligence.
My open smile defuses him.
He blast the ready pores of his suspicion,
of course her animation appeals
to other men: she's attractive,
high-spirited in conversation.
But my pleasure find
new edge to the tale of an axe
returned sharper than it was.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
The first pair of shoes you wore were black,
velcro straps sat atop your pair of dollies
to make it easier to put them on for the park.
They were meant to be smart, but you laughed
as you wore them against the ground so free
as dad slung the swings, smiling at his child.
Our mum told me I was a creative child:
I didn't like to wear anything black. Red
suited me in how I stood in puddles, free
in indifference to how brown my wellies
became. If I was asked why, I'd shout,
“I'm pretending we're all at the seaside.”
From there we made our way to beaches,
where the wind was crisp and the children
we could see around us acclaimed screams
of emphatic joy at how the sea was so blue
and big. We had to wear pairs of sandals
when we went, but being barefoot felt free.
All that time we had at being young and free
soon went with the summer ending in school,
the arrival of my freshly polished black boots
was identical to almost every other child's-
a lather of paint dripping over in mud yellows
proved who I was with a mother's groan,
and this wasn't the only time she wailed.
As we grew older and wanted to be free,
my sister started to experiment with pink
highlights in her hair as I visited clubs
with fake ID. We were adults with childish
personalities in how I wore my Docs
like a religion for feet, my sibling in high heels
that you could hear in Sunday morning claps.
The arguments broke out: she wanted a child,
mother saying was too young, needed to free
herself from lazy culture and find a workplace.
I'd never seen both their faces so gushed red,
just like the red richness of those wellies
I had worn in the park. I pipe up and say,
“The best freedom is our time as children.”
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
Designer clothes.
Designer shoes.
Manicure.
Pedicure.
Highlights, too.
Your facade is immaculate,
but you don't need to be told.
You put up a front,
and think nobody knows
the real you.
That insecure woman,
is much more beautiful
than any surface you could summon.
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 4:16 PM UTC
everything I do hurts you,
my happiness stresses you out
my energi smother yours,
highlights your loss of it
the same way the kind gestures show me
your weariness
I am well and you aren't
I would take it all
in a nano second but I can’t
I’ve tried but I can’t
I play tired and I play sick
I’ve tried to show that we’re the same
but i know
it doesn’t make you less sick
not a single bit
all I can do is to grow
and try to hold your hand
even if you’re left behind
and all this, all this
until death will tear us apart.
I can feel the normality
sending a friend request to death
I can feel time accepting it
I start to recognize the blended soft colors
and the feeling of life coming and going
just hoping it isn’t in my hand.
I am turning into someone else
I say I’m happy
because I know it matters
We have one thing in common here
we don’t complain because the nurses teach us that’s what kills us in the end
I try to stand up outside all of it
I try to feel like anything else matters
but it doesn’t
I’m scared my happiness somewhere else
takes away the happiness we have
until death tears us apart
I take the buss back home
I leave you behind
I fake my way up to sit at the top so that I can see
I have a photo of you on my phone to remember
just in case you would go away
It’s a new feeling a mix between everything
and nothing
I write it down
because I can’t loose these seconds
just in case you would go away
It makes life feel so important
It makes everything else feel stupid.
It makes you stronger
It makes everything heavy
and all you can is hope, hope that it’s not
until death tears us apart
There’s a pregnant woman who wants my seat
I let her have it
I go all the way back I pass one with a burn mark on his face
I wonder how many tears have happened the last ten minutes on this buss
I wonder how they take it
I don’t know how I take it
I know the barr is lower here
the scary part isn’t getting sick
here it’s dying
and in that case
I know I’m the lucky one
Until death happens to me
and I feel happiness knowing
I’m the lucky one
I can be light flying over a bridge while everybody else takes the buss
until your death will tear me apart.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
Every good thing shall happen...
like Friday nights and party rush
surprise calls from a long-time crush
auburn leaves and a cup of tea
cozy couch and a good movie
a sweet embrace, granted wishes
locked up hands, friendly kisses
perfect music, fireworks galore
passionate poetry, books in store
skinny-dipping, pineapple juice
mountaineering, romantic cruise
stick-it notes and scented letters
white rose petals and silver glitters
dusty slip-on and faded pantaloons
sweetened berries and tasty prunes
smooth raps and slow rock hits
magnetic charm and awesome wits
11:11 verses and chicken bones
starry night skies, pebbles and stones
a perfect score, crispy pizza crust
locks and highlights, passionate lust
skirts and pumps, pictures of us
Halloween treats and wedding fuss
hot cappuccino, jam and jelly
first paycheck, winning the lottery
chocolate mousse, ice cold drinks
ocean waves, seductive winks
silk and laces, laughs after cries
cool car drifting and belly butterflies
left hand scribbles, messy hair buns
Oakley goggles and water guns
funny jokes, late night talks
rainy days, twilight walks
flickering lights, vintage cars
logs in swamps and monkey bars
a hopeful daybreak, latte aroma
fogged up glasses, squeaky veranda
carnation in bloom, warm summer breeze
slow ********** trimmed cypress trees
naughty kiddie play, blindfolds and tricks
mistletoe and acorns, fresh and fancy kicks
baked salmons and grilled corn
ending fights and a newborn
free-verse poetry, an orchestral song
a stranger's smile, a dancing throng
finishing a novel, Luna's glow
binding friendships, December snow
but the best thing for me, I'd like you to know
is to tell you finally that I Love You So.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
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Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 6:43 AM UTC