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"poinciana" poems
Royal Poinciana, the only bliss in the summer! The stream swiftly flows, And the livid wind blows, As many a red bloom throws. Royal Poinciana, the crimson bud, Tender sparkling of the red blood; Like an orangey blazing flame, And saffron color in precious gem; Deeply dyed in the rich glow, Royal Poinciana, the only hallow. Oh this shiny summer afternoon makes ill, Watching Royal Poinciana is a mere will. Soon ruddy blossom would appeal, In florid color, my eyes would fill.
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Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
Royal Poinciana, the only bliss in the summer!
I am chasing this thing that always eludes me. In the day he openly embraces Man. See, they’ve known each other for centuries, shoulder to shoulder, unrelenting hand in unrelenting hand as they dance betwixt the world of fantasy and pain. A universe I know all too well. A courtesy we could never have. Matta still in my eyes, limbs sore from just being born, naivete radiating from my skin. I trail, inquire, plead— he laughs in my face before evaporating observe. I have a plan. I could forfeit my mind, let ambition and sense seethe through my temples. Knees the color of my behind from crawling through the mud. Pungent fertilizer gathering underneath my nails as I plant hibiscus, mint and poinciana in a Man’s garden. My body falling apart and together at the calloused hands of my oppressor. There must be another way. I turned to the sky, they know us Women well. Every thirty moons, I offer up a sacrifice. Take this crimson sea between my anchors that Mother ordained. Take it and give us strength. He eludes me still. I fight and I protest and I bawl and I break down and I stand up and I smile and I make love to anyone capable of loving. I am still searching. Tactile, hard and brown like an egg’s shell you can’t see this soft, permeable mass yet it lives, survives. But the chase is over.
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Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
Woman, Wound
exotic orange blooms they're Hawaiian landscape trees poinciana trees
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Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 9:09 PM UTC
Poinciana Trees
Spanish cherry has erupted in the garden today There are more flowering of unknown flowers. Nyctanthes, China rose, Jasmine, Bela With them the north wind is playing there. Tuberose, queen of the night They are known for their fragrance. Yellow marigold and sunflower They look so blessed. In the shadow of Royal Poinciana Summer sunshine falls. Champaks, roses and gardenia Keep the garden decorated. Flowers blossom throughout the year Let us see them with all eyes open.
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Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:18 PM UTC
Flowery wishes
She was a spectacular tree. People called her the flame of the forest, for she was obviously striking, vivid and classy. I need not narrate the superlative majesty of the flame – tree, for one time or the other we have all been breath-taken by her peerless glamor. What matchless artistry! I am here to quickly share my ruminative gloom for that lovely assembly of flower, leaf and wood, which grandly stood in a grove of possibilities, and possibilities can be such a torment, such a calamity. ❋ For years galore, caterpillars of choices had been steadily eating away at her core. They came from different directions, at different trajectories, with varied objectives and fluctuating proclivities. Sometimes, they came rushing in as family, and sometimes they came slowly, a little formally, a bit watchfully, somewhat officially. At times they came in fiery fascination and yet, ever so often, they were charged with marauding indignation. Many times they arrived as blazing ambition, but more often than not, combusted the flamboyance leaving behind an ashen illusion. Oh.....those craving larvae of oblique, wily opportunities. ❋ The foliage was feverishly guzzled till photosynthesis was no more possible. From my distant window from where I had once watched her variegated flair, I felt the Poinciana moan in simmering despair. ❋ With biting sensitivity, I still look on, a tad tearfully, as she continues to tumble into conscious torpidity. My words may slip and sway, as with each wilting leaf after each withering floret, she progresses towards an abject decay; imploding methodically, and transposing gradually from being the flame of the forest to being a sprouting forest of flames.
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Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 9:11 AM UTC
The Moribund Poinciana
She was a spectacular tree. People called her the flame of the forest, for she was obviously striking, vivid and classy. I need not narrate the superlative majesty of the flame – tree, for one time or the other we have all been breath-taken by her peerless glamor. What matchless artistry! I am here to quickly share my ruminative gloom for that lovely assembly of flower, leaf and wood, which grandly stood in a grove of possibilities, and possibilities can be such a torment, such a calamity. ❋ For years galore, caterpillars of choices had been steadily eating away at her core. They came from different directions, at different trajectories, with varied objectives and fluctuating proclivities. Sometimes, they came rushing in as family, and sometimes they came slowly, a little formally, a bit watchfully, somewhat officially. At times they came in fiery fascination and yet, ever so often, they were charged with marauding indignation. Many times they arrived as blazing ambition, but more often than not, combusted the flamboyance leaving behind an ashen illusion. Oh.....those craving larvae of oblique, wily opportunities. ❋ The foliage was feverishly guzzled till photosynthesis was no more possible. From my distant window from where I had once watched her variegated flair, I felt the Poinciana moan in simmering despair. ❋ With biting sensitivity, I still look on, a tad tearfully, as she continues to tumble into conscious torpidity. My words may slip and sway, as with each wilting leaf after each withering floret, she progresses towards an abject decay; imploding methodically, and transposing gradually from being the flame of the forest to being a sprouting forest of flames.
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46
You are my sunboy! Sweet autumn morning light, Touch my sleepless eyes' dew white. Suppose, I am your mirror, See your image in my mind, And forget all relations left behind. Let's go to an unknown world, There no one will tell we are not matching, Only two will express our Love through chirping. Let me abandon grief of heart; I will entangle you as golden happiness, All the day I will busk in your sun rays. I will be royal poinciana at hot noon, In your summer sunshine I will burn, From blue pain to yellow joys I will turn.
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Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 2:15 AM UTC
O Sunboy
O nor'wester! sweep away sweep away just, All my hidden pains of past, Sobs and sighs shouldn't any more last. Royal poinciana is smiling in red, Why am I feeling like lying on sick bed? Let me be stormy and dread. Look! this nor'wester has no pretension, He is pure burning in sun sensation, Has no secret trap or illusion. O nor'wester! please restore my real being, Let me dance like wind whirling, Let beauty dazzle like revolutionary uprising. So long this mind is empty, A dais there is adorned with fabulous beauty, Please give me flowers revolutionary red mighty. Come come brush of red deep, O blue past! don't peep, Come shiny dawn! I won't weep.
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Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 9:42 AM UTC
O Nor'wester
Hey handsome pal! Come, I will give you immigration in my mind violating rules all. So long you remained silent, See, I planted happy trees for you having sweet scent. Me, the poet is highly fond of dream, I keep happiness hidden showing outward grievous scream. Look at sky up above, In the twinkling stars how brightly smiles my love! Touching face, happiness said, Spring has fallen in love with my brown braid. South breeze has left his eating and showering, A love so powerful is rushing after breaking binding. What do you want, dear? Forget my painful past and let's cheer. Royal poinciana tells spreading its bower, "Are you poet the perennial flower?" Who is standing infront covering his eyes? A strange love is making me fly in the skies. Will you dive? I am a water fairy everflowing, I came from high mountains to make your plain land green glowing.
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Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
Love Makes Me Dreamer