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Manda Clement Jul 2014
We did not come here on the orders of others
We came freely, our own choice, blown by the soft winds
scattered o'er many a mile
Landed upon Flanders Fields and rested a while

Then death came, disturbed the earth
Destruction hit the ground in which we slept so quietly
Awoke us from our slumber sweet
To witness tragedies and defeat

Now we are risen
and in our place beneath lie men and boys of courage, strong and true
Who fought valiantly but now lay slain
Our gentle roots entwine around their bodies that remain

Each dawn we wake for them and face the summer sun
At night our gaze doth meet moon
We stand tall and proud and dip our heads
And honour them that lie beneath with our petals red
Another WW1 inspired poem. Poppy seeds can lay dormant for many years before flowering. This is what happened on the battlefields of ww1. The earth was disturbed with all the shelling and death and destruction and released the seeds that had been laying dormant. How beautiful yet so sad.
Kiva Beth Oct 2017
Once it started opening up,
Like a wound, the pearl sheen of skin
deepening into a red
As rare as the perfect rose
And just as treasured.

Bones dense around my heart
And lock themselves in place.
Stifling the voice - two beats -
The third one silent.

The fourth,
The fifth,
The third.

You are my arms outreached but selfish,
Hands open but stiff,
Palms red.
ryn Oct 2014
Red
Strange malaise,
One I can't place.
Struggling of late.
Discomforting state.

Persistent lethargy.
Sloth-like and heavy.
Burning internals.
Frequent intervals.

No temperature.
No warning lever.
Don't know what's wrong.
Been rather long.

Medicine trough
Can't rid me this cough.
Expulsion so violent,
Incessantly recurrent.

Over a fortnight
This ailment I fight.
Still hasn't eased.
Can't be appeased.

Development is seen.
Now spitting green.
Not just all
That joined this brawl.

It's just the coughing.
No injury I'm suffering,
I haven't bled...

But I see red...
:(
Bryan Dahl Jan 2013
Some holding out their hope
Others giving up their dead,
Some believing miracles,
More prefering risk-free will.
Some expecting disappointment
Find regret instead,
Some wait for Luck's return
In broken pieces, still.
Some in line against the wall
Wait with vacant eyes,
Some with kids who won't shut up
Just look down and sigh,
Far too many end their days
The way we first arrive.
Dead hopes and broken miracles,
Our televisions thrive.
ryn Apr 2015
As the violet of day
draws to a close...          
Witnessed the dwindling
vermillion sun,             
being swallowed  
by the horizon.
Ever so slowly,
       seconds stretched...
      This moment here...
Captured...      
and                
froze.        

    Brushing off
the indigos  
  and                
blues.          
of the past,
            Whilst I shed these
scarlet tears.
Burdened with
              unfounded speculation
and fears.        
Gifted the        
lease of bravery
but I know...        
it wouldn't last.      

A final skirmish            
between                          
night and light.            
My crimson wings    
spread to greet the.        
green evening air.            
Feather and wind.            
spoke to each other;      
quivered as if              
the same story        
they shared.          
A conversation    
              that ended quickly before
both took              
flight.                        

To the                        
highest heavens,
leaving a          
trail of leaves
from days of
yellow...        
  Flying past the
                 blushing orange cheeks
  of                        
sleeping clouds.
             Evading the beckoning
of                      
    night's curtains
and            
shrouds.  
    Into the sun,
I would go.
                Beyond world's end,
           I would follow...

To find you
                  where the universe
                      would run its course.
                      I'd gladly soar through
       spectrum's grain,
Through        
      unfamiliar realms
and                  
              warped new planes.

Why?          

Because      
blood red  
rubies          
pump            
through mine
and                
garnets          
flow              
      through yours...
Her shaped belly was the red flower in the jungle
Her voluptuous hips were the storm in the forest
She hypnotized me with her round firm ****

The savage petals took my heartbeat away
The feline viscously attacked my sinful soul
The luscious spark tempted my startled nerves

Like a tropical butterfly she danced freely
Like a mythical snake she glided effortlessly
Like an innocent dove she expressed purely

She cast her spell on my uncontrollable desires
I worshipped the Goddess as she empowered herself
The red flower plucked into nakedness-  for her *****
ThePoet Nov 2016
Bound by

this rule

In this

chaos I think

My pain is

my fuel

And my blood

is my ink

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
Tammy M Darby Jan 2014
Evening slipped into the long abyss
So fell the red moon
Malicious shadows forecasting doom
For the cursed animal man
Inhabiting the precious earth

Fearsome rolling rivers ran dry
Black smoke filled the spanning azure skies
The churning murky green oceans gave up the bones of their dead
When the moon turned red

The crust of the hard ground shook
Split and burst into deep fiery crevasses
Dark yellow orange smoldering  nooks
Swallowing all of life
So inhaled was mans world as we know it
Destroyed
Barron and dead
When the moon turned red

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Jan.10, 2014
Suicide Girl Oct 2017
Red as the blood gushing from her wrist.
Purple from the bruises on her body as the beating
Green is her eyes yet she doesn't want to see
Yellow is her body from the **** her father impacted her
Red,purple,green,yellow
She wishes that she had a normal life
Red,purple,green,yellow
Her body aches for love, as when her father whispers "I love you babe" she cries
Red,purple,green,yellow
Her mother calls her fat and **** while she beats her
Red,purple,green,yellow
She slits her wrists while she cries
Red,purple,green,yellow
Shes now dead as she was hanging by a thread
~A.E.G.
Tbh something I made up in art randomly
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