Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
Like the heavens and the skies
Like the deep seas so wide
When I am confident and true
When I have faith in you
Colour me blue, colour me blue

Like the royals of Great Britain
Like the noble in truth and ambition
In my wisdom, dignity and pride
In my mystery and grandeur so wise
Colour me purple, colour me purple

Like fire and blood
Like the intensity of a flood
In my strength and passion
In my desire, love and emotion
Colour me red, colour me red

Like the warmth of the tropics
Like the sun, my daily tonic
When I am determined and creative
When I am happy and attractive
Colour me orange, colour me orange

Like a smile so warm
Like joy even in a storm
When I am cheerful and happy
In my intellect, when I am savvy
Colour me yellow, colour me yellow

When I am all these and more
When I am despised or adored
With the colours of the rainbow
With the colours that make me glow
Colour me colours, colour me colours
ryn Apr 2015
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.

Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.

A few were wrapped in tints of ******.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.

Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.

The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in
red.
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...

It is beginning...**
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
Kevin J Taylor May 2018
If in some other life
we sat in endless space
(perhaps you came alone)
leaning in, could it have been
an orange grove?

If in another life
we listened (in this
or that other grove) and wept
and overflowed with hope—
Then it was real.
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
.
the scent of incense
hangs heavy in the air
the constant murmer of voices
comes crashing like waves
but your eyes meet mine
and the faces disappear
the voices die,
all that remains
is an unspoken invitation
from my lips
willing yours to kiss them
and yours happily
meet their request
leaving our love tasting
like oranges
tenderly plucked
from moonlight lips.
CK Baker Oct 2017
a slow walk up centennial
and i still can’t find the place
it's menacing cold, and muted
and the street sweeper and winter breeze
move the turkish blend and dust pack

a novice mixed duet plays
brahms on broken strings
an erhu and overcoat
veiling the blue heeler and sphinx

maggianos is settled in the center block’s
luminance and seasonal drape
it's festive warmth bringing home bedford falls;
the flavour and character and social circles

annie’s playing and the keeper's singing
(his word pool and slander
raising everyone in arms!)
the crowd chants and mayhem breaks
as crawlers and contemporaries
smash their steins

dark alleys and dripping holes
hold a grim reminder of the pierced underside
paddies flutter and forge their words
with a broad manifesto

night gardens come alive
(slowly sapping the respite)
hunched figures and ladies in lace
shuffle inside the big orange door
thomezzz Sep 2018
she liked the color yellow because it calmed her
its brightness soothed her soul
and the sight of a yellow flower
always brought her joy
it illuminated her dark days
and stormy weather
it always seemed to try so hard
to be happy
A quality she could relate to

but one day, she met a boy who liked orange
a color she always said she hated
its hue too close to yellow
but too different to be enjoyed
she never wore the color orange
felt as if it drew attention to her
when she was content enough
to be invisible
in the corner of the room

her favorite color was yellow
and his was orange
but she never liked that color
with its harshness and severity
it reminded her
of traffic cones
and reflector vests
of emergencies
and warning signs

But one day, she realized
he reminded her of the color yellow
he soothed her soul
illuminated her dark days
and calmed her storms
he never seemed to try too hard
but always managed to make her smile

she realized yellow and orange
weren't that different after all
and when the two hues came together
her, perpetually the color yellow
him, forever orange
she felt like the only girl in the room

the colors yellow and orange
started to bleed together
and orange came to remind her
of fallen leaves
and clear sunsets
of butterflies
and sprinkled zest

and in time
as she grew to love him
the color orange started to become
just as beautiful as yellow
Elena Mar 15
Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.
The U. S. of A
“We’re number Won!”
Millions committed
Striped pajamas
The Folks over
Incarcerated
Behind bars in the Big House
Hot
******
Shanked

*** fashion of the day
For the caged bird
Is the Onesy
In Penitentiary-Orange

The dawgs
Pit
Bulls’ **** backward
songs gone on too long.
Platinum grilled
The Billboard
Charts at #1
Raise Roof Rough Wolf
Barking
The knuckle rings blinging
Krunking Twerking
Unemployed
Packing the heat
The sun as a gun
In hands of sons little ones
What’s not
The thing to keep?

Feels like the odd side
Of the street
Like toiletries, an empty roll,
In his Onesy
Jonesing
In Penitentiary-Orange...
MJL Apr 1
Each generation’s majority makes choices that usher change
Lost pined for simple peace
Depression lived for human survival
Silence spoke for equality in a civil voice
Hippies fought war with flowers
Boomers drove for mad knowledge of self
Grunge nodded honesty from suburban garages
Y baptized Science as god
Mobs then anointed Orange Man as king
Down at the crossroads as means to their ends
For taxes, for borders, for babies, for guns, for Right
Trading truth, communal values and united dreams for their causes
How will we be remembered
As we watch this Heyday bloom
What will be this generation’s rallying cry
Will there be one
A culmination of past generation's trusted change
Lost, depressed, silent, free, self-aware, honest, doubting
Here now
Strong
Watching the flames
Will we quietly turn away
As our world burns
Or will we tap a new strength
To face the fire
Together
And bask in the wonder of our Heyday


© 2019 MJL
Generational strength. Come together. Unity. Love. Trump crossroads
Fiona Runs Sep 2016
she stood there on the side
blond curls bouncing with pride

Get it! Get it!
arms flung about announcing
pink shoes and blue jeans worn
with attitude of a more senior form

Get it! Get it!
before it’s too late
Get it! Get it!
the tide won’t wait

orange ball floating
being drawn in and out
as she stood there ordering
and starting to shout

a small group are playing
and arranging their roles
for a future life being
determined by personalities bold

Get it! Get it!
as blue shoes are soaked
in salty water and laughter provoked
all ends in happy joyfulness neat

but some are more happy
with their dry feet
Allie Nov 2017
You stand here kissing the light.
A halo of red leaves fall past your head
Your lips leave sparks on my cheek
Your eyes are as steady as tree trunks
The touch of your hand,
Makes the wind roar.
Will you catch me if I fall?
I already am.
My shirt ripples like waves in the  sea,
I wish to fall forever.
Because your mountain lion purr is my new favorite song,
I feel that your mysterious mind is made of music,
Each breath is a tune, each word is a melody,
You smell like brown cabins and daisies,
Your naked feet are the mud I am stuck in.
H e l p
I'm going to hit the ground and disappear into your orange hands.

You stand here kissing the light.
The gray skies are meant to be your background
Your rosy cheeks look far too kissable,
While you dance as if it's all you know how to do.
Every glance you grant me is a blessing and a  s i n,
Memories of lip balm and car rides flood my brain.
My dress is soaked, I'm drowning in you,
I wish you were lost in me too.
Your baffling blonde hair blinds me,
I can no longer see where I step.
Caught in a whirlpool, drinking all your thoughts,
Cold evenings, sweaty bodies,
You smell like blue trampolines and bubblegum.
This love is a shipwreck,
Oh God, This daydream has an expiration date,
I can't live off empty kisses and blue eyes.

You stand here kissing the light.
And breathing burgundy words.
Your hands are searching for a spark,
But your touch is as light as a bumble bees.
When you laugh, I no longer feel alone,
Because you make my heart beat again.
I stand on tiptoe and kiss your habitual hat,
Wishing I could be happy in your arms.
You are a sunny serene statue
In this seriously fast-paced fast-racing world.
But, notes passed and dying embers won't save me from
H o l l o w  car rides home.
You smell like warm blankets and hot sauce.
I warn you not to drink me,
I am spoiled milk.
Get out, before it's too late,
I don't love your yellow mind like I should.

You stand here kissing the light.
A rainstorm strikes when you laugh,
Your bare back is the sturdy ship,
I am stranded on in this wide ocean.
I'm stuck in the jungle of your mind,
The story of you is locked in my bones,
You're wild, green, and reckless,
I'm etranced.
Our various vivacious ventures leave me in    r e v e r i e,
craving something I can't quite name.
Yet, smoky rooms and video games
can't protect me from these
black thoughts.
You smell like cinnamon and *****,
In this moment, that feels like home.
But god, I can't tell if I'm healing or hurting,
And I don't know if you'll survive
the hole in my heart,
Still, I'll kiss your brown lips,
and hope that you do
A poem about the three girls and one guy in my life I've loved
isabelle saloom Nov 2015
red* - her lips tasted of wine and blood and all the pain she felt in her heart. she was driven by wild passion and survived solely on her intensity and strength. each breath she took was like fire; so absolute, so empowered.
orange - her hair was crafted from the bright ashes of a phoenix, kindled with streaks of gold. she always seemed to be her own lick of flame from the embers that burned in her heart to the coals that touched her soul.
yellow - her smile was light at your darkest hour, sunshine after a rainstorm. inspired by everything and nothing at all. she was the sun personified, the epitome of radiance.
green - her eyes were so deep and magnificent and ethereal, whilst still lit with puerility. she could look at you and suddenly show you that she cared so passionately for you, no matter your mistakes or your faults.
blue - her skin drowned in an ocean of tears, storm after storm, each wave wracked her body. she trembled with heartrending sobs, each breath heavier than the last. her sorrow painted the depths of her, unseen to those who had not genuinely looked into her eyes.
purple - her organs were stained an **** shade by the darkness she consumed. her hunger was insatiable. she filled her mouth with glass and swallowed it with a smile on her face. the air traveled from her bruised lungs, through her macerated throat, and out her smiling, stained lips.
Ashari Ty Jul 2018
My sweet, sweet Sunday, you made me write
Unending ***** of November breeze
Your afternoon is filled with delight
Incandescence of an orange bliss

Saturday's past and will be forgotten
Sunday's solitary is very bright
Monday's mediocre; five out of ten
Today's sunset is forever in sight

A weekend that should last eternally
But why do the nights just fall so quickly?
TGISunday :>
Daniel Jun 15
That sweet orange juice
dripping from your
rosy lips

makes me imagine how addictive
their sticky taste
could be.

Danny
Ashley Chapman Mar 2018
Everyday caught
In the labyrinth of mind,
I am,
Where dreams,
And desires
And lust,
From nothing
Conspire something.

Destination: Canada Water.
The next station is Surrey Quays.
Doors will open on the right-hand side.
Exit here for Goldsmith's College.

In the cerebellum
Fragments flash cerebrum bright:
Wheels in tunnels burn,
A neural screech amplified deep,
As waves of electrons churn,
And in multiple places keep.

This stop:
- My birth -
Is in Westminster!

It’s time:

Do you love me?
DO YOU LOVE ME?
          Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

In the space-time continuum,
The labyrinth is forever,
Within a fourth dimension.

It’s time …

You love me, right?
YOU LOVE ME, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
ASH FREE

Lost in the labyrinth: a journey to an exit.
The Overground train pulls!
And from floor to ceiling,
Between vertical orange pins,
A medley of languid listless limbs lulls,
       Seated hips,
       Angled legs,
       Dangling feet,
And neck-less heads,
Lost, ghoul-like,
The disconcerted move doggedly on,
Everywhere somewhere; but forever nowhere
Through London's hills and bogs.

From  STOP to STOP,
In the labyrinthine network,
In tubes splayed out on cubes,
Of bright brushed viscose comfort,
Overhead, the ads exhort:

       Top Up Your Soul,
       Fast Forward Your Escape
And
       uSwipe
       uSwitch
       uSave

Like these,
A hundred escalating messages,
Each more insistent than the last,
Compel, enough to distract,
So man’s desire enslaves his heart.

Its time…

         You love, right?
YOU LOVE, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
ASH FREE

How? Why?
Has bacterial sludge,
Built these edifices of glass and steel.
This labyrinthian cage,
Whose walls race up at the speed of light,
While the inner commuter flame gutters,
Everywher, in multiverses,
Supernovas explode in showers.
And for a moment, in the moment, The Overground chromatic glows.

New Cross Gate, Canada Water, Southwark.

Lit and digital and LCD:
        
  ALL CHANGE, PLEASE.
  THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE

A few automated steps, and:
       Southwark,
       Green Park,
       Then Baker Street,
Appear, fade and disappear.

Now walking down Belsize Road,
On the evening of the
Super Gibbous Moon,
As it rises high over the Ziggurat dimensions of the Alexandra Estate,
And all is blood orange at dusk,
As I, a slinking silhouette,
Make for the event horizon of home,
For surely given, and taken,
A few more bends, another turn,

It’s time, again.

         Love, right?
         LOVE, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
FREE ME.

To the event horizon of consciousness,
To that black hole at the core.
In death's star-like eye,
Embrace, pass through,
(Fear not),
On, through the labyrinth northward,
Entering and exiting,
We go awhile, a little longer.

Stars, my Stars,
Again, it's time.

You love me, right?
YOU LOVE ME, RIGHT?
Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
DEATH FREE.
LOVE!
BE,
WINGS FREE:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL

One more stop:

       New Bond Street.

GET BEYOND
DESIRE,
BEYOND THE LABYRINTHEAN LIE,
CONSUMER, DIE!
BE
MATERIAL FREE.

Last stop:

       No-name, this one:

BE:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL.

SAY IT:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
     DEATH FREE.
     LOVE!
     BE,
     WINGS FREE:
    
     WE ARE:
     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
Dedicated to Steven Hawking, RIP, this poem is designed to be read to a live audience. To this effect, it was performed at the Hundred Year Gallery in Hoxton, London, and has been altered considerably ahead of being performed at The Mediterranean Cafe, Berwick Street, in Soho, London. All welcome, March 28th at 7pm.
Meredith Ann Jan 31
Voices are always
much more vivid
after a period of absence from them in my ear.

Nevertheless,
your burnt orange nature was so shocking,
that it was almost painful

And as I grappled with
how I had lived next to it for so long,
I realized that all the shades were wrong,

For when it was just us,
you'd stoop down to my level,
as your rough tones would break into melting amber.

But today was not the case,
as the energy coursing through your throat,
was a bright, blinding tangerine

My name in your mouth seared me,
my ears burned as I listened to you sing,
The pulsating light left me squinting in surprise

Suddenly I've found the motivation to remove myself from you.
For you no longer are the answer to the relaxation I seek,
As I accept that your makeup no longer consists of my cool tones.
Next page