"offwhite" poems - Hello Poetry

thought breeds fear breeds hesitation breeds inactivity breeds regret breeds sorrow breeds this second lying against the wall, heavy paint consuming terminal strands ink stains on two-dollar offwhite notes whose words are these? not sure. this second breeds disappointment breeds apathy breeds hopelessness breeds fatigue breeds long sleep rivulets make short indents, slipping clockwork makes little difference words by heart fall from cracked lip skin whose laments are these? I understand. and wish I didn't.

0

Dec 2, 2012

Dec 2, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC

tom-mccone

homemade feathers

thought breeds fear breeds hesitation breeds inactivity breeds regret breeds sorrow breeds this second lying against the wall, heavy paint consuming terminal strands ink stains on two-dollar offwhite notes whose words are these? not sure. this second breeds disappointment breeds apathy breeds hopelessness breeds fatigue breeds long sleep rivulets make short indents, slipping clockwork makes little difference words by heart fall from cracked lip skin whose laments are these? I understand. and wish I didn't.

11

Smooth Canvas, So deceitful so eerily beautiful. I am what I seem, nothing more and nothing less. But what do I see when I stand in front of that faithful mirror? Do I see a featureless face, or do I notice a true being? The mannequin that I am, sees a soul in her reflection. Passerbys see only my offwhite motionless body. But inside I know what I am.

0

Feb 18, 2013

Feb 18, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC

sydney-rianne-bouldin

Mannequin

Smooth Canvas, So deceitful so eerily beautiful. I am what I seem, nothing more and nothing less. But what do I see when I stand in front of that faithful mirror? Do I see a featureless face, or do I notice a true being? The mannequin that I am, sees a soul in her reflection. Passerbys see only my offwhite motionless body. But inside I know what I am.

12

he seems a man particularly a man particularly of a fat acne face splattered erratic blemishes. to about the grunt of his flaring nostrils long haired spouting mouths , he's splunking waddlinglittlesteps hithe r wi th e r (the bookstore's a most quiet almost quiet almost noisy noisy quiet steps fading rushing aboutaboutabout the isles the aisles the offwhite ravished pages noiselessly disheveled bang

0

Dec 17, 2010

Dec 17, 2010 at 12:10 PM UTC

patrick-wakefield-1

Untitled

he seems a man particularly a man particularly of a fat acne face splattered erratic blemishes. to about the grunt of his flaring nostrils long haired spouting mouths , he's splunking waddlinglittlesteps hithe r wi th e r (the bookstore's a most quiet almost quiet almost noisy noisy quiet steps fading rushing aboutaboutabout the isles the aisles the offwhite ravished pages noiselessly disheveled bang

12

Death by Mike Tolhurst There’s a breeze blowing cold through the Kaiwaka And bringing rain to the sodden ground; The wind of spring still carries its winter bite Blowing through the eaves with a whistling sound. Theres a touch of order in the garden now The lawns are mowed up to gardens edge The paths are swept clean of leaves And the electric cutter has trimmed the hedge. The house was painted again last summer An offwhite colour to match the walls The inside was tidied up Ceilings lowered over polyurethaned floors. The legal office is established there now Clients coming to call at home She says the place is no longer hers And that she doesn’t have it as her own. Truth is that life never stays the same No matter how much you might want it to And here at number 7 Bank Street Things have changed for me and you. The existence that we once had before When children ruled the way we were Is all at sea inside a vacuum And has disappeared never to return. The passions gone to another place That we have lost the directions for And somehow in the dead of the night We misplaced the key to each others door. So lets take the beauty of this place The Tuis and the expansive views And start afresh without remorse Replacing the old with the fresh and new. Theres a saying that goes something like this Enjoy what you can endure what you must When alls said and done we get but one life Then its ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

0

Apr 22, 2014

Apr 22, 2014 at 3:41 AM UTC

mike-tolhurst

Death

Death by Mike Tolhurst There’s a breeze blowing cold through the Kaiwaka And bringing rain to the sodden ground; The wind of spring still carries its winter bite Blowing through the eaves with a whistling sound. Theres a touch of order in the garden now The lawns are mowed up to gardens edge The paths are swept clean of leaves And the electric cutter has trimmed the hedge. The house was painted again last summer An offwhite colour to match the walls The inside was tidied up Ceilings lowered over polyurethaned floors. The legal office is established there now Clients coming to call at home She says the place is no longer hers And that she doesn’t have it as her own. Truth is that life never stays the same No matter how much you might want it to And here at number 7 Bank Street Things have changed for me and you. The existence that we once had before When children ruled the way we were Is all at sea inside a vacuum And has disappeared never to return. The passions gone to another place That we have lost the directions for And somehow in the dead of the night We misplaced the key to each others door. So lets take the beauty of this place The Tuis and the expansive views And start afresh without remorse Replacing the old with the fresh and new. Theres a saying that goes something like this Enjoy what you can endure what you must When alls said and done we get but one life Then its ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

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