"kaleidescope" poems
Just a Psychedelic girl
And Nothings gonna change my world
Blue skies
Kaleidescope eyes
Tan thighs, time flies
Flies away, don’t exist
Colors dripping off my lips
Looking for one perfect kiss
Kiss the sky, flying high
Goodbye time, hello mind
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:02 PM UTC
I should be ecstatic
I should be breathtaking the second I walk
into the room with you
I should be full of effortless perfection and captivating laughter
I should hold you like the rare gem you are
polishing you, weightless by your worth
I should weep with sweet gratefulness over our stunning photos
and memory keepsake moments
I should be a beauty queen rolemodel
exhibiting class and coordination and intelligence
I should be ravishing in your love,
a kaleidescope of pinks and yellows and magic
I should be bathing in the taste of your devoted kiss
and sunning under your Carribean embrace
I should be a blonde hair blue eyed American dream
Instead of a
Miserable maniac that can't even write a ******* poem.
Instead of a terrible daydreamer,
bored by the periods at the end of your sentences. . .
Instead of a tarnished transient seeking foolish adventure
Craving endless oceans, cliche flight humor, and saving
animals I didn't even know existed to begin with
Instead of a jaded view from every set of empty eyes
Instead of an indulgent *******
that wants more than this terribly wonderful life
that you've offered me.
I really should.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
*Atop the emerald earth,
a bush of crimson ablaze.
Blush of sunrise.
Bruised rouge of sunset.
Kaleidescope colors of
complex designs complete.
Ahh..but for the lingering questions.
Questions that continue with the
fresh of each day...
Rita...We call to Rita!
Our ethereal selves.
She calls, We come
Into her night of dreams
Woven within her dreams of day.
We come in Our
Saintly stance.
Rita hears.
Knows Our hearts.
And so to her,
We present ourselves.
Rita feels
the plush nuance
of Our ancient wisdom.
A melding of truths
Rita knows
She is a conduit
through which the
breath of message
and knowledge exchange.
'Sine timore'
Without timidity or fear.
Imbued deep within
her Irish blood.
Gift passed from the elders.
Yet, this Lass of yore,
stands away from the podium.
Has chosen not to grandstand,
or grasp boldness too tightly.
Goodness of power is embraced
laced with enchantment.
Able to transcend The Veil,
She walks Her path.
Our winsome
Saint of Impossible Causes.*
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
We are but a blinding light,
blinding life and all it's might.
when she sees us, it is all blur.
stars become puffs of light and the moon is
trapped in a glowing sac.
O life is a kaleidescope of chances,
of choice and of left footed dancers.
and when we rest all we see is darkness,
when our bodies die in bed we are free,
we roam the dreamworld like a nomad,
we walk and never see our own hands...
we climb the hills of evergreen,
we ride the blades of the windmills,
we swim the rivers of wine and honey,
we bite the cherries and spit whisky on melancholies. . .
and then we wake. . .
with blood in our lips,
we smirk at life
and we all die once again,
like it all really happened.
Jun 7, 2010
Jun 7, 2010 at 9:10 AM UTC
I'm nibbling sunshine fantasies on psychedelic manatees
as I swim through formalities and mudpits of vanity
while temper approaches maximum capacity
I pray for no casualties
I'm dribbling periwinkle moonshine daffodils
as I crawl through sweltering deserts of dis-ease and sunchills
they're a bothersome blister singing softly to a dragon
they're a kaleidescope periscope horoscope for the dead
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
serenity is a euphoric surrendering
to the cerulean sky
the green grass swaying with
dandelions releasing
their soft feathery bristles
as tender as the gentle breeze
sending them far and wide
pillowy clouds
suggest ever moving images
the kaleidescope of a child's mind
taking on different shapes
along the sparsely trodden path
trees waving leaves in welcoming greeting
song birds endlessly composing a captivating melody
the air as clean and fresh
of purified aroma
breathing the deep
earthly essence
with each sigh
attaining tranquil purity
thoughts of stilled
quiescence and calm embalm me
in translucent cocoon.~~lorilynn
copyright*lorilynn 2010
Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 10:48 PM UTC
Transfused with a doted blood
Stainless pattern of the love
Color in red and spiral devotion
Beat the beast and fold the thrill
Transfused with angelic poison
Faintless on the road to the crucifix
Color in blue the trial attributions
Beat the beast and fold the thrill
Transfused with textual infusion
Sainted in hedonistic space fields
Color in kaleidescope spins
Beat the beast and fold the thrill
Transfused with a dared death
Bright visions of another world
Color of purple enlighten
Beat the beast and fold the thrill
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 4:45 AM UTC
Hypnotized by your blank kaleidescope
caress you like a Kwashiorkor belly
rotund
smooth and round abdomen, empty and
covered with flies
an allegiance to parasitism,
supported by the skeletal mass
too thin to pull the body along,
ground-glass ground
ochre earth,
away from the feathered death
stepping lively behind you
hooks pierce the sand,
soon your meat.
you scream at me
with colic voice
cut you open
I have no choice
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 5:29 PM UTC
the face turned into the haze of the sun
and in the corner of its unseeing eye
i perceived the nature
of these truths
its in that turned face
its empty gaze cast over the far distant landscape
we all seek to sate the thirst
for a sweeter wine
unleash the mystery of self
unlock the untamed within
its smooth plastic features
hides nothing
but some would say that only reveals that it hides all truth
in its pastel faceless features
that we all see ourselfs
in its pastel faceless features
i see all my loneliness
all my shared joys
all loves all sorrows
all my years struggling against the tide
mishap and perchance
its in that man made face
that we perceive the distance we must travel to find ourselfs
the trials we must endure to discover the truth
behind our own eyes
coiled in its depths are the answers we all seek
after all isnt it that simple
we create the troubles we seek to destroy
in its smooth plastic skin
she finds comfort
free from the fear of another's unpredictable madness
she can explore her own illusions
and that too seems sure
we destroy what we live for
on the beaches of my puddles
and in the forests between my lawn
and the kitchens back door
of my childhood home
the ages have worn away the questions
that once kept me staring off hopeful to the dawn
trying to decipher the meanings
from patterns of a gods casual breath
and so here i linger
these lifetimes later
waiting for the answers
that an inhuman human face hides
pastel kaleidescope
of the turned face
the barren night filled with wishes
and wishes filled with regrets
its pastel tones
haunt the night
its dark mutterings
play along the road that she bicycles on
whistling a girlhood tune
as she fades into loss
the light in her eyes gone forever
sometimes answers are the last thing we need
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 1:54 AM UTC
I have every right to be angry with you
because that is the the only emotion pumping in my veins as I sit here
for the hundreth ******* time
trying to compose a rhyme about
how stupidly, how redundantly, how repetetively, how pathetically, how disgustingly
in love with you I was, I am, and I will always be
because there will never not be a part of you inside of me
Together, we defied everything
Anyone could see our differences before our similarities
but I've never seen more clarity than when you drive your car
I fickle with the radio, and we sing until the road behind us
spreads its wings and we soared
higher than any pipe we'd light or drugs we'd scored
The absence of your passion for life weighs down in my stomache
filling me with a daunting silence
I see your old house with its white picket fence and it calls to me
like cubes of cheese to a mouse
you taught me how to love
I'm not goos at recollecting memories and regurgatating them on paper
but if I could tell the tale of how we saved eachother
of how we learned to become our own savior, our own mother
Because I failed somewhere along the way
and I think about you every **** day
The skin around your eyes which used to simply serve its purpose
as protective epidermis, has sunken, down
I'd never try to make you frown
but you look like **** dude
and that sounds pretty rude
but in the past we sailed across the ocean
suspended by our hope wheeling in motion
you've given up hope and I'm unable to cope with your inability to cope
I am unable to cope with clouds in my kaleidescope
I am unable to cope with you doing dope
because I looked at you like a blind man who had never seen the stars at night
I would never tell you what's wrong from right
but we belong on the sea, Cassidy
I will never be able to explain how you changed the seasons for me
through any seasonal depression you've made up all the reasons,
I continue to fight on
One day I won't feel unsatisfied with my poetry and
I'll be able to conduct something lovely about a girl named Cassidy
but for now, I need to study for anatomy
Mr. Matthews would not excuse tears on my lab
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
the day you stopped feeling like yourself
transparent window panes became frosted
with the cool heat of his disinterest
the kaleidescope of your mind began to retrace itself
praying to find a moment where you could
still trick yourself into thinking
that this was something
real
and i am left here turning and screaming
and praying for a day where i can feel warmth
that doesn't come from five minutes in his presence
i dig my nails into my skin because the sharpness of the pain distracts from the sandstorms in my heart
dry and hot and nothing left to give
i look to the stars and try to pray for a future
where i'm not still thinking about the look on his face
when he turned away
and the softness of his voice when it speaks my name
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC
let us speak in tones, hushed,
of mountains and molehills.
benchmarked by
tape measures,
underscored, with concerned apprehension.
for now it is time,
to masticate the elephant
and the roaring lion too.
with silver plated forks and knifes undulled with use.
slap down your grievance on the noritake dinnerware
and partition the proportion, dissect the angst,
and delicately place the rage, between your bloodless lips.
to sit,
ashlike on your scathing tongue.
we will drink,
your aged bitterbile wine,
in leaden crystal goblets.
smile at your witticisms,
however,
humdrum and malign.
and when the elephant,
is but ivory and leather.
and the king of beasts,
but a tattered rug,
upon your floor.
we shall cry jubilee, jubilee,
cry freedom.
our indenture is done.
emancipation now has come.
and we will run, we will run.
it is then,
we will be,
looking at life,
with kaleidescope eyes.
fitted with lenses of love, joy, and liberty, crystalized within.
we will be,
dancing the fandango,
with robust, rebellious gusto
and singing glory, hallelujah riffs.
and o' there will be laughter
and big broad smiles.
and o' there will be hugging
and much comfort shared.
and the door will be open,
for anyone to come sit
and chatter on for a while.
heaven on earth,
heaven on earth.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
let us speak in tones.....
hushed......
of mountains and molehills.
benchmarked by tape measures,
underscored, with
concerned....
apprehension.
for now it is time,
to masticate the elephant
and the roaring lion too.
with silver plated forks
and knifes undulled....
with use.
slap down your....
grievance
on the noritake dinnerware
and partition....
the proportion,
dissect the angst,
and delicately place,
the rage,
between your bloodless lips.
to sit ashlike on your.....
scathing tongue.
we will drink....
once more,
one last time, one sip of,
your aged bitterbile wine,
in leaden crystal goblets.
smile at your witticisms,
however, humdrum...
and malign.
and then,when the elephant,
is but ivory and leather.
and the king of beasts,
now, but a tattered rug....
upon your floor.
we shall cry....
jubilee, jubilee, cry freedom.
our indenture is finally done.
emancipation now has come.
and we will run.......
we will run.
it is then,we will be.....
looking at life,
with kaleidescope eyes.
fitted with lenses of love, joy,
and liberty, crystalized.....
within.
we will be,dancing......
the fandango,
with robust, rebellious gusto
and singing glory....
hallelujah riffs.
and o' there will be......
laughter and big broad
smiles.
and o' there will be ....
hugging
and much comfort shared.
and the door will be ...
open...
for anyone......
to come sit and chatter...
on for a while.
heaven on earth.......
heaven on earth...
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
You see her over there?
Lucy,
the one with kaleidescope eyes.
she being chased by the egg man, no. The Walurus.
As she runs by the church where Eleanor Ribgy is picking up the rice,
a yellow submarine is submerging into a sea of green.
Imagine all the people around her saying theres no heavens
and that they tell the Walurus to let it be.
Wait, --Let her be.
Little darling, its to cold to be outside to be running!
Can't we all just come together?
Don't be afraid!
---OH NO---
Her name isn't Lucy!
It's Jude.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
It was mid-february when I asked
to put a cigarette out on your neck.
In July, I stopped asking,
and started doing.
A fiend waiting for a fix,
I took hit after hit until I inhaled
every last bit of you,
careful not to miss a breath.
It is mid-February again
as I sort out the rainbow pills
into kaleidescope patterns
on my bathroom floor; carefully counting
the ways I loved you.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
saturday you said something
when you walked into the room
the music stopped
and time stood stil
my mind got lost
i couldnt hold myself
the cloud covered moon
no longer lit the room
kaleidescope of thoughts
went throug my head
if music had to stop
and laughter became cries
summer turned to grey
would i have you
the thunder in the clouds
set the room alive
panic filled my veins
i was no longer proud
everything i ever new
was set apart
knowledge and strenght
werent important
and now i understand the beat of the heart
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 6:33 AM UTC
You see her over there?
Lucy,
the one with kaleidescope eyes.
she being chased by the egg man, no. The Walurus.
As she runs by the church where Eleanor Ribgy is picking up the rice,
a yellow submarine is submerging into a sea of green.
Imagine all the people around her saying theres no heavens
and that they tell the Walurus to let it be.
Wait, --Let her be.
Little darling, its to cold to be outside to be running!
Can't we all just come together?
Don't be afraid!
---OH NO---
Her name isn't Lucy!
It's Jude.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
this book got no title
so don't dare compare it
to the others dozing on the shelf
man, the blank stare
you are reading, as stupidity, disguises heart and feelings, kaleidescope dreamings, overtures operatic.
mental fluidity.....
just workin in a different lane to yourself
savant to the art,
smart to the keys...
hit the beat....
find the real,
create the start,
just sometimes,
becomes,
the begining of the bugeoning of the being.... caged behind the stare.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
10mgs,
20mgs.
One,two,three.. day after day.
All just to keep this artificial smile on display.
Days drag out and the little stars that twinkled in our eyes now replaced by black holes.
Our soulless bodies sinking like broken bottles in the ocean.
The happy memories that haunted our minds nearly gone, the goosebumps we got when we remembered our first kiss are no more. Bodies numb.
This feeling,this curse; inevitable.
Every child born after condemned to a lifetime of synthetic happiness.
In capsules of sea foam green,and custard yellow. To be taken like our favorite candy.
The amount being consumed will become ungodly leaving hollowed shells and the walls to talk to.
Only the last glimmer of light in your pretty little head can save you.
Every memory.
Every emotion colliding like a kaleidescope of color.
The thoughts of him,thoughts of her.
The voices...
Another simulation complete.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
Even if it only glitters in the sky approaching the city,
as your vision blurs and smog suffocates your lungs.
We all return to gaze into the faded stained crossing,
to remember when two fading breaths drifted apart,
eyes glistening in the hourglass of two twisted hearts.
I pretend these eyes see brief clarity beneath,
this path of split ends of unkempt dreads.
Not much to send but I'm tempted to lend,
a broken sentence with no pretense.
Kept fighting rewriting reread recollections,
staring at dead stars lighting my reflection.
Seeing what is and what could be there.
What is and what could be tangibly unaware.
Like what was and what wasn't we are both here and there.
Forgetten remains conciously aware.
So now I sit smoking a ciggarette,
Fighting to write something of sense.
Staring into pixels of kaleidescope pills.
A constant reminder of concocting thrills.
Beginning to burn out and all I wrote:
What fades away turned to smoke.
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 12:34 PM UTC
A split decision
brain disconnecting the vision
replying and trusting
hoping without coping
sight through a kaleidescope.
No parking brake
vision so opaque
no reflection
no connection
no red, no green
no amber to be seen
just a dark tunnel.
Nothing.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
Kaleidescope eyes
Magnificent colors spread
They dance in the sky
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 6:44 PM UTC
Love dressed herself up in lavish abundance over the course of two years then decided to be herself and stripped back to her nothingness. She paraded in Jealousy, tried on Heart-break, and even went through a phase with Anxiety before settling on her original lavishness. Love is fleeting. Love is nothing, and yet in the moment, she means everything. What's gone is never gone just unfit. All it takes is a reminiscent moment for love to spurn again.
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:54 PM UTC