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burnt wood fills the air
coasting along with the
scent of applewood smoke
with the lakes
that flows off with the stream
closer with the sun it seems
my mind ponders while
my imagination wanders
as I become in tune with
the sun and the moon
thoughts sprout like a rose
with the light it glows
leaving it time for it to grow
with the flowers below
© rainbows and sunshine 2018
Jess Petra Jul 2013
We sat there for three days, spoke of nothing
      just watched the flowers die.

We put them outside, in the sun and clean air,
we gave it water, as much as it could drink.

And yet these roses chose a different path.
Sick of our presence. They wilted
They refused the water, the air.

Punished us by refusing
to continue on here among us.

All they really needed was a black flower ***
with a gold interior
and flakes of glitter in the soil.
C S Cizek Dec 2014
8:30 A.M.

She wakes him up with breakfast
on the night stand.
Two eggs over-easy and lightly burnt
on the bottom so the yolks don't run,
two pieces of sourdough toast cut
diagonally, and a cup of coffee /
no sugar, no cream / brewed
at 8:15, two hours after
she got up to clean the house.
She mopped the floors twice,
tied the trash bags and set
them at the curb. She tested, dusted,
and retested the stagnant ceiling fans.
She vacuumed the rugs and wiped
down all wood, granite, and steel

She lemon Pledges allegiance to him.

While he's at work, she cleans his laundry.
She clean-presses his button-ups, making
sure to cut any stray threads and neatly
mend any loose seams. She irons a firm
crease in his pants and shines his all-black
wingtips.     She doesn't use Kiwi. Something high-class
                      that I've never heard of.
When he comes home and sets his briefcase
near the furnace vent to sulk in his leather
chair, she consoles him. She pulls the lace hem
of her sundress to her waist and ***** his ****
until he comes to his senses.
You look like a billion-dollar, gold-plated
monument feeding the world rosegold birdseed
from your immaculate palm binding my hair
like a Dutch Warmblood's tail, darling.

She dabs the corners of her mouth trying
not to smudge her lipstick, straightens
her dress, and hurries off to wash
his car.
This can be read two ways. Choose wisely which.
fray narte Feb 6
You deserve someone who can look pain in the eye — an insignia of heartbreak with your name written all over it; your trembling sighs — like rust, lingering over their rosegold lips, and still, not forget that they love you.
Steve Jun 2018
When will the moon constrict my hopeless burdens away,
when will the cold murderous slumber end,
when will the tigers eyes of tranquility call me again,
when will the rocks braze the underworld beneath,
when will the masks of quivering grief be lifted,
when will these rosegold chains dissolve,
when will the wild beast in my head lay to rest,
when will the ghosts strangle my rugged devotion,
when will I be salvaged by cupids soft arrow,
when will the fatigued ruins of my pirated soul be free,
when will the blistering light of the son go out,
When will the treacherous waves of the oceans calm,
when will the songbirds symphony of agonizing pain stop singing,
when will the gaps of my devoured heart be mended,
when will my insufferable day of reckoning come,
when will my sullified essence be cleansed and my debt be repaid,
when will the howl of solace encrypt my unqwuentionable love,
when can I sip peacefully from the fountains of youth,
when can I eat the benevolent fruits of prolific endowment,
when will I be saved

J J Sep 2020
Please don't die
With all your will and might,
Continie being here.

You are my guiding stone of rosegold,
Life without you lacks light, life without you

Is so lost and empty and hopeless regardless
Of a good day here or there

Please please please. The thought of it cripples me.

One month ago to the night, to the hours when it happened.

When I held your different shades of hand

tube-linked and ashen. It was so surreal, I was so many places at once,
Knowing it's the last time and feeling it thaw the wound in my skull
To be replayed on and on until I give in and take
   the easy way out.
But now there's nowhere to go.
I am back in her presence after a series of confusing
Non-scenearios led me to hear the news of her passing.
I run upstairs and through to her room,
Knowing she will be there.
Mother mummy mum,S-
I'm a scattered mess

You look as beautiful as ever. Worn out like the majority

Of the last 12 months. Bandaged up nose, eyes closed
  but in your own bed and smiling.

'... please stay, I'm so glad you're here. I thought you were dead.'

    'I won't be here for long, son. They're taking me away later today' she laughs '
I love you'

The idea of it still feels as strange as it had 10 months ago.

Let it stay that way. Don't let me wake up
'I love you' I reply.
Please linger a little longer
I woke up.
One month and a day.

It feels like I've been skipping time.

— The End —