"poloroids" poems - Hello Poetry

You're the dark blue hue set over the beauty of untravelled worlds Drawing me back to the blanket of a comforting home Drowning me in sickly sweet memories Turning my hopes and my dreams to pointless could of beens You're the poloroids stuck to the shabby cabin walls A constant burning reminder of what I left behind A snapshot of a non-existent place That I yearn so hard to go home and find You're an anxious longing for untouched perfection I wish to hold it in my gentle hands A love for the soft yet constant melody Of an old song from my favourite band You hold me back, hugging me in the comfort of your wooden arms I'm oblivious that the plane I board will turn your wood to charcoal And my perfect metallic palace Will rust in the acid rain

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Sep 30, 2017

Sep 30, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC

PhoenixesPoems

Hiraeth

You're the dark blue hue set over the beauty of untravelled worlds Drawing me back to the blanket of a comforting home Drowning me in sickly sweet memories Turning my hopes and my dreams to pointless could of beens You're the poloroids stuck to the shabby cabin walls A constant burning reminder of what I left behind A snapshot of a non-existent place That I yearn so hard to go home and find You're an anxious longing for untouched perfection I wish to hold it in my gentle hands A love for the soft yet constant melody Of an old song from my favourite band You hold me back, hugging me in the comfort of your wooden arms I'm oblivious that the plane I board will turn your wood to charcoal And my perfect metallic palace Will rust in the acid rain

16

You grind my yellow cactus Like an asphalt pomegranite You slime into my universe Like you are not of this planet You guage my tumbling body Many fireworks try to chameleon The colors bright But you enter my daytime tea Like you are of the nite 2 men **** you and you blame the doctor By spoken word transmits you to lay Under the gun of my evolution ladder Sniding God for the interlude in which you play Screaming geese beckon to your strange turning psychosis I have all these ribbons and sellotape I suppose there are many radios in Spain I guess that my jive-box is a measurement of pain Tourists chat and snap poloroids Just a normal day.

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Apr 26, 2014

Apr 26, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC

cliffy-buglione

THE COLORS BRIGHT (1998)

You grind my yellow cactus Like an asphalt pomegranite You slime into my universe Like you are not of this planet You guage my tumbling body Many fireworks try to chameleon The colors bright But you enter my daytime tea Like you are of the nite 2 men **** you and you blame the doctor By spoken word transmits you to lay Under the gun of my evolution ladder Sniding God for the interlude in which you play Screaming geese beckon to your strange turning psychosis I have all these ribbons and sellotape I suppose there are many radios in Spain I guess that my jive-box is a measurement of pain Tourists chat and snap poloroids Just a normal day.

20

I'm slowly mulling over the gaping empty spaces we all left, ones that I helped dig hollow myself. Is any standstill a pleasant one as this, Times frozen without vindication. Addicted to those tiny jubilant, fuzzy but blissful moments. Tiny coping mechanisms Altered memories that will somehow glue together simplicity. Lets try and forget the vastness of it all Lets keep dancing this dance, and pretending that the smoke that fills our lungs doesn't make us spit in the morning. Tiny snippets of modified memories I can handle rather well.

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Jul 23, 2013

Jul 23, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC

hailey-jujubeen

Poloroids

I'm slowly mulling over the gaping empty spaces we all left, ones that I helped dig hollow myself. Is any standstill a pleasant one as this, Times frozen without vindication. Addicted to those tiny jubilant, fuzzy but blissful moments. Tiny coping mechanisms Altered memories that will somehow glue together simplicity. Lets try and forget the vastness of it all Lets keep dancing this dance, and pretending that the smoke that fills our lungs doesn't make us spit in the morning. Tiny snippets of modified memories I can handle rather well.

9