"multicolour" poems - Hello Poetry

*Before the fall rains come, Let’s have one more picnic, Now that the leaves are turning color And the grass is still green in places. – by Charles Simic* A hot day brings the summer alcohol Out of hiding. Surrounded, Each ice cube vanishes into my glass, Like children running from the year’s last class, Mingling with the *** I relish laying My hand on your naked chest In the August sun, Before the fall rains come. Layered with a glaze of sweat Neither yours nor mine but both, My eyelids slide like honey Over my quiet eyes, Relaxing my thighs, Daydreaming of earlier, when You said to me In the same tone as one with Only a couple pages left in his comic, “Let’s have one more picnic.” Tomorrow, I’ll pack a basket With some entertaining food: Whipped cream, chocolate strawberries. Under your tongue they’ll disappear From here, here, and here. (It’s duller Without them.) I’ll be excited looking around at The land in a riot of multicolour, Now that the leaves are turning colour. But I’ll realize it isn’t you Specifically; Just that you were there, and I was there. And we’ll realize we’re in love, however, You or I could be whoever. Gazing at each other, still with good graces And moderate tolerance we’ll think, “The sky is partially blue, There are half-smiles on our faces, And the grass is still green in places.”

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Apr 3, 2012

Apr 3, 2012 at 8:15 PM UTC

n-r-whyte

Lifting the Veil

*Before the fall rains come, Let’s have one more picnic, Now that the leaves are turning color And the grass is still green in places. – by Charles Simic* A hot day brings the summer alcohol Out of hiding. Surrounded, Each ice cube vanishes into my glass, Like children running from the year’s last class, Mingling with the *** I relish laying My hand on your naked chest In the August sun, Before the fall rains come. Layered with a glaze of sweat Neither yours nor mine but both, My eyelids slide like honey Over my quiet eyes, Relaxing my thighs, Daydreaming of earlier, when You said to me In the same tone as one with Only a couple pages left in his comic, “Let’s have one more picnic.” Tomorrow, I’ll pack a basket With some entertaining food: Whipped cream, chocolate strawberries. Under your tongue they’ll disappear From here, here, and here. (It’s duller Without them.) I’ll be excited looking around at The land in a riot of multicolour, Now that the leaves are turning colour. But I’ll realize it isn’t you Specifically; Just that you were there, and I was there. And we’ll realize we’re in love, however, You or I could be whoever. Gazing at each other, still with good graces And moderate tolerance we’ll think, “The sky is partially blue, There are half-smiles on our faces, And the grass is still green in places.”

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So I’ll tell you why I write. I write because I’m the protagonist of my own stories. I write because in my stories, I solve the problems that invariably creep up between people and I In the most heroic ways possible I write because in my world, Not every rainbow ends in a *** of gold But sliding across its multicolour will be the happiest memory in your mind I write because my stories are clouds that do have real silver linings I write because 3 am is time for chai, and childhood stories Impromptu bike rides to greet the sleeping night But all I can do is write. I write because I’m angry and frustrated but you asked me not to turn my anguish onto my body and leave battle scars for the world to question - so I write instead. I write because sometimes, the tumult in my head comes from words that are struggling to spill forth from my brain and stain empty pages with their loud meaning. I write because Writing is the only way I have to make sense of this messy world we live in.

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Apr 29, 2015

Apr 29, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC

sanchkay

so I'll tell you why I write.

So I’ll tell you why I write. I write because I’m the protagonist of my own stories. I write because in my stories, I solve the problems that invariably creep up between people and I In the most heroic ways possible I write because in my world, Not every rainbow ends in a *** of gold But sliding across its multicolour will be the happiest memory in your mind I write because my stories are clouds that do have real silver linings I write because 3 am is time for chai, and childhood stories Impromptu bike rides to greet the sleeping night But all I can do is write. I write because I’m angry and frustrated but you asked me not to turn my anguish onto my body and leave battle scars for the world to question - so I write instead. I write because sometimes, the tumult in my head comes from words that are struggling to spill forth from my brain and stain empty pages with their loud meaning. I write because Writing is the only way I have to make sense of this messy world we live in.

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Snowy-white cotton ***** Magic carpet of eternal white A white quilt for the blue sky Soothing and comforting Pearl-white candy floss Across the blue skies The sun like a small child Bathes you in its glow An angel draped in her wedding gown Waiting eagerly for her moment of bliss Just in time the groom jets through Lifting her off her feet Meandering through infinite space Slowly but purposefully I see you change colours Sparkling white, orange, yellow and crimson We look at the sky in awe and wonder why Your shapes keep changing all through the day At times you turn dark and grey And wave your magic wand to thunderous applause When the sun sets You dazzle and sparkle Like a peacock ecstatic Showing its multicolour plumage And when you are hurt Tears fill your ***** And fall down like pearls As a blessing from heavens! © copyright skm

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Oct 16, 2014

Oct 16, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC

sajeev-kumar-menon

Meandering clouds

Snowy-white cotton ***** Magic carpet of eternal white A white quilt for the blue sky Soothing and comforting Pearl-white candy floss Across the blue skies The sun like a small child Bathes you in its glow An angel draped in her wedding gown Waiting eagerly for her moment of bliss Just in time the groom jets through Lifting her off her feet Meandering through infinite space Slowly but purposefully I see you change colours Sparkling white, orange, yellow and crimson We look at the sky in awe and wonder why Your shapes keep changing all through the day At times you turn dark and grey And wave your magic wand to thunderous applause When the sun sets You dazzle and sparkle Like a peacock ecstatic Showing its multicolour plumage And when you are hurt Tears fill your ***** And fall down like pearls As a blessing from heavens! © copyright skm

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Wildfire Fire, we fear flames seeking to obliterate to cleanse forest and plains so the land can grow again green shoots the world has been the cycles can start again having cleared the undergrowth that hindered the freedom of samplings There is a flower that only bloom after a fire fire ephemerals can cover mountainsides in a multicolour of wonder. We feel a strange attraction to the flames we wish it could rinse our sins, yet, we have a great terror of the fire of hell The fire we dread the most is the fire in mans' heart it can be wonderful but so easily became ruinous and manifest itself in greed and destruction of what is good There is a wildfire raging now and the Nordic tremble and fear they might be consumed by the firestorm.

0

Feb 4, 2016

Feb 4, 2016 at 5:11 AM UTC

jan-oskar-hansen

wildfire

Wildfire Fire, we fear flames seeking to obliterate to cleanse forest and plains so the land can grow again green shoots the world has been the cycles can start again having cleared the undergrowth that hindered the freedom of samplings There is a flower that only bloom after a fire fire ephemerals can cover mountainsides in a multicolour of wonder. We feel a strange attraction to the flames we wish it could rinse our sins, yet, we have a great terror of the fire of hell The fire we dread the most is the fire in mans' heart it can be wonderful but so easily became ruinous and manifest itself in greed and destruction of what is good There is a wildfire raging now and the Nordic tremble and fear they might be consumed by the firestorm.

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