"rosey" poems
ring around the rosey
i heard you were a phony
ashes, ashes,
they were ******* right.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
In the murky depths of muck and mire
hope flickers in hearts
courageous enough to believe;
sending out ripples in the waters
like a domino effect rewound.
Insignificant seedlings to the cruel eye
filled with light and promise
as yet unseen turned
Fragile sprouts in healing green
reaching up and out
to rest hopes on the water front,
as if to console one another -
we are not alone.
Against all odds, bean of India,
Keep going –
Power through the sluggish resistance
Of this darkened plane.
Though life seems lost in loneliness
Listen closely,
Hear the Whispering rumours of life beyond the deep
Of basking in light and life
beneath the welcoming heat
of a dancing sun.
A triumphant act of faith indeed,
to content oneself with growing,
never really knowing
what lies beyond the darkness.
I weep for you
with joy, O little pocket of hope
as you propel yourself forward -
such strength, such courage
for one who as yet knows not
of that rosey happiness,
that snow white purity
that lies beneath your shell.
I stand in awe of you;
You with your absurd elegant beauty
tracing your journey
accepting it as part of yourself
embracing who you once were.
The original rags to riches tale;
Roots in putrid, ravenous foundations
yet you yourself remain unstained.
The journey every bit as beautiful
as your glorious destination –
a testimony to your essential self.
I see you take up your stance
Front and centre, finally ready
to declare yourself to the world.
Budding beauty of new life
awake! open your eyes, your heart,
you dont have to hide anymore
the world is missing who you are.
And time births healing and growth.
Every flower blooms at her own pace;
Tentatively unfolding - delicate and fragile still
with gentle colours begging will I do?
Caught up in a lighter life
becoming bolder, blessed, nurtured
blooming bright, opened out
hello world, here I am.
Your wary days drowned, you claim your space,
Fill your space,
Make it your own.
The ethereal splendour of your gentle petals
Succeeded only by the loveliness within,
As you build up your legacy of hope
So wonder will not be lost in the falling petals
but made more beautiful still
in the healing gifts,
in nourishing others,
in the gifts you give of yourself
back to the world.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
I got a rainforest full of tears
without you
Thought that after all these years
I'd have you
But you found out I was dumb
dudn't matter how I'm hung
I got a rainforest full of tears
without you
Ashley, Ashley all fall down
ring around the rosey
The whole **** world just brings me down
I got a rainforest full of tears
Open wide and 'wirl around
I love my midnight floozie
I hope you're here-You're not around
I got a rainforest full of tears
Kung fu Raggedy Andy war/s
got sent back to China
Salmonella on his brain
I got a rainforest full of tears
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
I want you to paint me,
and leave your mark.
Use my skin as your canvas,
Make me your work of art.
I want you to draw on me,
make me your personal sketch.
Using implements as pencils,
With each mark that you etch.
I want you to colour me,
in your signature shade.
Rosey pink with crimson red,
Then bid it not to fade.
I want you to hurt me,
as only you can do.
Make me pay for your misfortunes,
Tell me i deserve it too.
I want you to punish me,
show me you’re not weak.
Dispose of your bad luck,
Make my pain your winning streak.
I don’t know how to love you,
if you don’t hurt me too.
I don’t know how to treat you.
I will end up hurting you!
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
Current affairs, making family disappear.
Blood thicker than water; I can't see that from over here.
Haters show hate, to hide their fears, hide their faults by dissing piers.
Their hands weak so they dis their peers.
Weak-minded; Diss-impaired.
Test the truth and get dared
Like something that's undeclared.
Put a ring around your rosey,
Then I’m taking a chair.
The kingdom come;
The dynasty is aire.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
How do you say, "Thank you," to someone who saved your life?
No, no, no..........let's get it right!
I was dead and gone.
I was 2 seconds from being burried deeper than most while life carried on.
I was about to decompose and be a feast for the worms.
I was a walking corpse in no other terms.
And then, she spoke to me and raised me from the dead.
I saw the light in her and followed it instead.
I grabbed a pen and paper and wrote, "Confessions of Him".
Suddenly, life surged! And I could stay afloat and swim.
If not for her this place would have made me a zombie in tomb .
No way to express myself, but, with her light my body was exhumed.
I could hardly sleep placing pen to paper.
The flood gates were opened and the words made me feel safer.
Medora had stolen all my energy and light.
I didn't know a place could make you give up your will to fight.
You'll know her when you see her.
Her beauty will never fade.
She glows in the distance like a lighthouse in a storm.
And up close she is blinding, but, its comforting and warm.
Her voice is like music and her smile makes you think of ****
Yea! She's that GREAT and fills you with delight.
Her laugh is free and hearty.
Her skin is rosey with flecks of white.
Her hair is a flame.
I have to say, "Thank You," and share her name.
Kayla, you were the fresh drink I needed.
Without you knowing I heard your words and heeded.
I am alive again!
Writing feels too good to be true!
The only way I know to say, "Thank You," is to immortalize you.
I wrote you this poem so I will never forget.
I want the world to know I owe you a debt.
You reminded me that words were a natural part of my soul.
And, to deny that I would always be half and never whole.
So, I ask the world to join me at my imaginary gala.
Hold up your glasses in a toast to the AMAZING Kayla!
Keep letting your fire burn because your flames ignited my oil well.
"Thank you," for saving me! From loneliness. From hate.
From Medora. From HELL.
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
*We all learned,
the grass is as green as the sky is blue,
but the sunset and sunrise seems to make this untrue.
Now I ask you,
have you heard the tale of the sky?
I can tell you for I have seen it with my eyes,
one day,
there comes a time,
where each of us begin to die,
and where does your spirit flow,
into the wind,
into the skies,
like how your blood is blue until it touches the outside,
the sky is as blue,
as the blood that swims through,
when the sun begins to leave,
the sky becomes purple to grieve ,
this is where the blue and red blood interweave,
eventually the sky goes a rosey pink
and then when the sun has left in a blink,
it gets too dark to even think,
in the night it is blackened blue,
and in the morning it becomes new,
while new souls pass back and forth,
the sky you see is our life force,
transferring lost souls,
and filling the found ones with life,
the sky has many purposes,
besides holding the sun moon and stars,
the sky lives to serve us,
the sky is full of scars,
why on tragic days the sky shines beautifully,
to show us hope is not something to of forgotten,
so now you know the story of the sky,
and you will meet with it the day you die,
and the ones you love will watch you fly.*
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
70 years before today She was in this place
sultry magic abounds
I heed Her call
Honey Moon radiates from between my legs
An angel at my gate
Succulent strawberry
Bite into me
Send me rolling sticky sweet
Teeth to lips to cheek
Rosey gold
Ready for the picking
Rest within my crown O Mother and sing me to sleep
Siren's Solstice drift through my being
Shine upon me
Adorn my halo with your seeds
Be with me
I am with myself
Nestle me in your womb as 70 years before
Sultry sweet and mystical
I adore She
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
Holly and Ivy
Walked in the woods
Discussing who was the best
Holly was hoping her rosey complexion
Would maybe outshine all the rest.
But Ivy thought Holly was surely forgetting
The shock of her prickly demeanour
She was convinced for sure
The king would adore
All that was so special about her.
Now Ivy was bit of a hugger
You might say a lot of a clinger
But she was convinced
Her warming embrace
Would win over the king no matter.
And when the time came
For the winter queen crowning
The king of the woods was clear
He chose as his queen the lady he fell for
And it's Holly who now wears his ring.
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Maybe it was the first time I gazed upon brilliant brown eyes that needed a second look to satisfy my desire. Maybe it was the moment when greetings dropped from your mouth, my eyes transfixed on the sound resonated from within. The seconds we spent swapping hellos down hallways made my smile glow, I can’t define perfect but, you’re the only one close enough to tickle its chin. Skip five paces forward, now we aren’t like two peas in a pod, we are too tight to snuggle up close to anything. I can still smell the scent of cheeseburgers and teenage angst as you and I wasted away our day with jokes filled with *** innuendoes and american stereotypes. The face you make when laughing causes me to reclaim my thoughts of what universal beauty can be. You made forest fires look like buckets of ices when you stepped in a room, wearing that navy blue dress with ruffles filled with humility and self-confidence. Maybe it was the moment you can to me for help. I would do anything for a third look at brilliant brown eyes, enough time for me to escape any painful memory from first period. It could have been the first time I saw you blush when I called you beautiful. Rosey red cheeks never looked so good on tan skin before. I don’t think I could go without saying, it might have been the first time I was able to wrap my arms around your waist and lift you from tiled floors, giving you freedom to fly. My dear Julia, I hope these words shine a light of perpetual friendship, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. So in your native tongue, Eu te amo.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
Entering the blackness,
A blind,
Blonde,
Astronaut I am.
Oh,
My hair didn't reach my brain.
Your force has a certain strain.
You are all the same.
All the same.
Humanity,
And what ever happened to originality?
My lower conscious tells me to succumb,
My pride holds up,
It beats the race,
The winning streak,
Take a peek,
And you'll see,
I'm a human,
But barely any longer.
I'm still rather somber,
You still can't see why,
And I can't try any longer,
But I still look at you
Through my prized rosey binoculars.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Himself, in a crying shame
Spoil me with a door, a fury too overt...
Excuse a jaded court, mellifluent by name?
A rosey future, a mission to earn the word...?
Worlds to weigh, a happier conscience
Ruses and voiced rage, particular to winds
Of times trying, the boot of legends
With the turn of somewhere simple into lent minds...
Fists in the air, a fight will remember remorse...
Sides of same and days rue, to collect a heaven
Is such a fickle repose, the dawn of a new force?
Worth one spare moment, to tell the difference as leavened
Throw after throw - to tell a characters tale
With the gaunt terror of risen voices and deeds
That calmly collected a house, that secluded with what will
A house of reaches of tomorrow, has the sense of entirety of needs...?
A piece of cake, a dread to eat it...
There in an uncertain stare, with a rolling hiccough
The total of vice to share, the challenge of a chosen wit
That has seen the truth, a course to new causes that knew the tough
For a new land, the barriers of meagerness's echo
To a chastity in round eyes, and the curiosity of a waiting hour
Let with the light of opportunity, in these steps we hold
A mind at bay, that knew one thing more than patience, a salt so sour...
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023 at 8:14 PM UTC
The crunchy Autumn leaf changes its mood once again.
A crisp green transforms into a burnt auburn glow.
I sink into my kingdom of leaves,
underneath the grand sugar maple tree.
The brisk wind pinches my cheeks into rosey swirls.
My breath leaves my body in a thick white fog,
and I lose myself in my surroundings.
Suddenly crystal drops of water fall from the sky,
slide down my face,
and make a home in my hair.
The grey sky bleeds its way into my eyes.
I sit and let it all pour down on me.
Let it wash me away into a presentiment abyss.
The seasons will keep changing.
I will keep changing.
Change can be a very beautiful thing.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
when that hopefully ecofriendly R.I.P becomes my final home
whether bios urn
or spirit seed
or any trendy tree from corpse to copse,
from dust to leaves
or better than
a crematorial commode --for fresher air and fuel for brighter flames
transplanted into other selves
redressed in mushroom spore-suit
seeded with the genes of generations hence and past,
piercing veils to fruit above again,
a mycophile to the last--
i will have lived with growth in mind,
that firm amorphous
ground opining green
to kindly live and die in kind
foment another view,
encompass monumental evanesce
supernal tablets branching neo-dolmen ethernexusnets beyond the r00ts
barking technoshaman psychic rings about a fiberoptic rosey,
perhaps a sappier refrain for finer silica domains
to sing along and echo Dryads doting long ago,
in threaded tones the make-remaking fold
of earthenborn rekindled kin of stars
decided to invent to cater otherworldly themes
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
Sadness.
How is that portrayed?
My childhood has taught me
that sadness
is merely tears and privileges taken away.
A face turned 8:20.
A tantrum.
"Boo-hoo".
But that's not at all what sadness looks like.
Sadness has bright eyes,
warm rosey cheeks,
and a perfect smile
plastered on its face.
Sadness is that girl that always smiles
but never talks
because of the fear she'll say something
not important enough to hear.
Sadness is that boy that always acts
like he's too cool for anyone
but in reality is dying for a real friend.
Sadness
can be anyone
at anytime.
And all it's trying to find
is a reason to really smile.
To be like happiness
instead of fake it.
That's sadness.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
A gift confers no rights.
Is it not to be given freely?
How does one love anything
without seeing it clearly?
Those rosey lenses you wear
while looking my way,
will break when the morning comes
and I have nothing left to say.
It isn't the lenses' fault
or the the changing view.
The fault of displeasure
lies solely on you.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
You claim to know through hearsay
I can write and say a line.
And that may just be something,
But not poetry like thine.
Your lips were first, I noticed.
Their rosey, sanguine shine,
Their gentle part was stiff'ning,
and raises more than I.
If I could be those saintly words,
Sweet nothings from your lips,
I could be, would be art itself
Conceived in breathless kiss.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
Nursree-Rhymed-Rap
you got yer Jack be nimble
you got yer Jack be quick
you got yer Jack jumpin over a candle stick
he jumped so high
he almost touched the sky
you see he burnt his nads
and it made him cry
you got yer 3 little pigs
you got yer Goldilocks
you got yer big bad wolf dumber than a fox
he huffed and puffed
and took a big hit
and they all joined hands
they were smokin some ****
you got yer Little Red
you got yer 3 brown bears
sippin on soup and sittin in chairs
Red danced on the table
yeah she danced really good
the bears gave her money
to see what was under the hood
you got yer Jack and Jill
you got yer buckle my shoe
climbin that hill what they gonna do
Jack played pattycake
according to rumours
trying to get inside
of little Jill's bloomers
you got yer Little Miss Muffet
you got yer itsy bitsy spider
he made a big mistake sitting down beside her
inside her purse
she kept a can of Raid
she drenched his ****
and now he's daid
you got yer hey ****** ******
you got yer dish and spoon
you got yer old spotted cow jumpin over the moon
there's Humpty Dumpty
and the fiddling cat
the little dog laughed
to see Jack Sprat splat
you got yer round the rosey
you got yer ba black sheep
pullin the wool over yer eyes as you sleep
****** ****** dumplin
so what is my point
whoever wrote these riddles
musta been smokin a joint
Gomer LePoet ....
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 10:02 AM UTC
sew
sewn
sewing
stiches
stitched
to my sleeves
tears soaking
simplicity
magnify
times
me
in
i
find myself
me'ing me
perfectly
time hurdles another fence
passport in hand bus stop timed
frequently flown boot soles
composite toed mistletoe
kiss me rosey cheeks
love me dearly
love me
most
love
me
ghosts
learning to sew
?
...
..
.
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
When you said you didn't care,
My heart broke like glass creations on the shore
Where lightening had struck.
I've been walking around eggshells
for so long with you,
My feet started to bleed.
You took the wind from my lungs and
The rosey in my eyes.
When you told me you didn't care,
I realized who you were.
A crocodile disguised as a lily pad.
And I was prey to you,
You sought only to sink your teeth into my bones.
When you said you didn't care,
It was all for my protection.
You sought to protect Maleficent
By slaying the dragon.
I guess this is good,
For there is no longer passionate compunction.
Or any feeling at all.
When you told me you didn't care,
I repeated the phrase to myself
over and over again,
Until the words lost meaning.
I became careless around you,
You never liked the dark areas of me.
The lurking shadows,
The mindless tactics of reapportioned reality.
When you said you didn't care,
I realized I didn't either.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Is it True?
Without things are blue?
Rosey red
Rosey blue
Isn't it time you were fed?
Hold on tight
It will be alright
Could be worse
Driving in a hearse
Night, Day
Day, Night
Who's to say?
I feel your plight.
Justify the action
Justify the action
No words can describe the lack of.......
Satisfaction
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
"You shine so bright, in darkest night,
When no one else would try.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
Where there's no more need to cry.
For beauty can't compare to you,
And neither could the Earth.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
So take off, for what its worth.
You whisper now, a quiet attempt,
To stop the salty tears.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
To getaway from all your fears.
You place your hand upon my cheek,
And gently rub the skin.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
Let your afterlife begin.
Teary eyes, and rosey cheeks,
Your smiles could never fail.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
On the tears in which you sail.
I look at you and now I know,
That darling you are home.
'Shouldn't angels be in heaven?'
Cause its hell when I'm alone..."
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 10:08 AM UTC
I am a sometimes sailor with many
Ports of call. I am a dreamer and
I go where I go. There are only
Dreams on my itinerary- some
More vivid; some I like not at all
Some bright are not my type and
Some though dim are very rosey.
Between my voyages I know not
No thought and when I wake I
Have no idea where I've been or
If any time has passed. I am dead.
Then I dream again waking from
The deepest sleep. That's the way
It is. Nothing lasts but the trip it-
Self. I cannot count how many
Times I have died and rose again.
As the old woman said: You call
This living! It is a sham. To which
I reply a sham for you my darling
And most becoming. She makes
No answer but I I see the a twinkle
In her eye and that for me is good
Enough; Makes all the difference.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
Now here lies in a garden a shrine ,
which reads she.will be forever mine .
Those words etched in stone still stand in a grave yard alone .
There was a garden where roses.bloomed ,
red yellow , white ,and pink,
a Lilly pond where Lina would lay to ,
untie her long fair hair in May,
when she heard my herdy Girdy.
“:Won’t you read me a poem she said as the waters danced ,
and rippled to a stone I had thrown with a plomp to the middle .
“ Read me a tale of you and I as the sun turns red ,”:
and the light finds it’s shade to you’re thoughts are in you’re head .
Here’s a rose wear it my love for I might be here in the morning.”:
“ My love you’re bleeding ,
let me find a bandage dear “
“ l feel faint my love I believe the rose that was picked was of poison! “
Her white dress now stained in blood ,
I held her in my arms as Lina lay dying ,
Her once beating heart turned to white ,
her rosey cheeks turned yellow ,
how still her lifeless body I held before the night ,
for now only the water rats would lay in hiding .
And so they built a shrine on a cold slab she lies ,
In her white dress and rose at her side ,
and the fragrance of pink roses .
To this day when the red sun falls into the night I hear her song ,
of love for that night ,
I search for the key lost in time,
to open the door to hear her singing .
“#;For where the Lilly pads lay ,
we shall meet there one day ,
my love “ .#
she sang as the birds were singing .
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 5:47 AM UTC