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"rowe" poems
#6 | Heartbreak in Hatfield I’ve been picturing skies and oceans that are Van Gogh blue with every hue. I have frequently felt warm winds on my skin while listening to Solána Rowe. Moments filled with love, pain, depression and heartbreak are all I know. That black dress keeps accentuating your curves every time I look around your way and admire your figure. We must’ve met in the past life because that’s probably why I want to love you past life. So many warm autumn afternoons have come and gone but I still have a desire to feel your love once again. Love may slip from your lips and drip down your chin but I never want our beautiful melody to become staccato. Those blue jeans keep accentuating your curves every time I look around your way and admire your figure. On autumn afternoons like these, I have felt warm winds on my skin while thinking about you. I’ve been picturing skies and oceans that are Van Gogh blue with every hue. I have frequently felt warm winds on my skin while listening to Solána Rowe. Moments filled with love, pain, depression and heartbreak are all I know.
0
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC
Van Gogh Blue
I fell in love with a hurricane Jessie Rowe, you asked me for metaphors To explain the love of my life And here you go. My Anna was, is, always will be, my hurricane. She entered with flashing red Warning lights And she blinded me. Did you hear that? She ******* blinded me. I still can't see around the red And when I told her that she blinded me She had no clue. She asked me what I meant. As if I could explain. I told her of my love of rain And she was a down pour on me. I felt her touch my skin Like I did that day I cried When he left and I couldn't help But stand and watch him leave. She soaked me in whatever She was And then gave me nothing to dry with. I was alright with that. It was only a slight thunderstorm And part of me was wishing for more. I shouldn't have tried to get closer. No one warned me that she was a hurricane. They just let me ***** Blindly I might add Into the storm as they ran Past me in the opposite direction. How was I to know? All I saw was her And all I felt was her So why should I have left with them? Maybe I should have. She told me that I was deeper Into her than anyone Had ever wanted to be before And she told me that she didn't Understand why. I couldn't come up with an answer. She was rain and lightning and wind And I was in love at the first flash Of thunder as it Came over me and into my bones, Breaking apart the constellations Between them. I fell in love with the way She couldn't stand being Destruction and strong And with the way she cloaked me In everything she was. I fell in love with a ******* hurricane. With the rain And the wind and the way she kissed And the way she fell in love with me as well. I fell in love with a girl Who was my devil and my angel In the same moment. The eye of storm was supposed to clear And beautiful in a different Way than she already was. And I yearned to see it. But **** she wouldn't let me. She thrashed against all of my forces And struck me with lightning made Of her lies and then She was gone. My hurricane disappeared. People always talk about Rebuilding a city That has been struck by too many Girls and boys who tend to be Associated with tropical storms. I watched as they rebuilt From my Anna And the storm she was. Many people cried. Many people ignored her leaving And they went about their lives. Me? I miss the rain. And the wind that was her. I miss my hurricane. But the damage she caused me Has me bleeding out too quickly So I might not be around When another hurricane arises.
0
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
My Hurricane
I fell in love with a hurricane Jessie Rowe, you asked me for metaphors To explain the love of my life And here you go. My Anna was, is, always will be, my hurricane. She entered with flashing red Warning lights And she blinded me. Did you hear that? She ******* blinded me. I still can't see around the red And when I told her that she blinded me She had no clue. She asked me what I meant. As if I could explain. I told her of my love of rain And she was a down pour on me. I felt her touch my skin Like I did that day I cried When he left and I couldn't help But stand and watch him leave. She soaked me in whatever She was And then gave me nothing to dry with. I was alright with that. It was only a slight thunderstorm And part of me was wishing for more. I shouldn't have tried to get closer. No one warned me that she was a hurricane. They just let me ***** Blindly I might add Into the storm as they ran Past me in the opposite direction. How was I to know? All I saw was her And all I felt was her So why should I have left with them? Maybe I should have. She told me that I was deeper Into her than anyone Had ever wanted to be before And she told me that she didn't Understand why. I couldn't come up with an answer. She was rain and lightning and wind And I was in love at the first flash Of thunder as it Came over me and into my bones, Breaking apart the constellations Between them. I fell in love with the way She couldn't stand being Destruction and strong And with the way she cloaked me In everything she was. I fell in love with a ******* hurricane. With the rain And the wind and the way she kissed And the way she fell in love with me as well. I fell in love with a girl Who was my devil and my angel In the same moment. The eye of storm was supposed to clear And beautiful in a different Way than she already was. And I yearned to see it. But **** she wouldn't let me. She thrashed against all of my forces And struck me with lightning made Of her lies and then She was gone. My hurricane disappeared. People always talk about Rebuilding a city That has been struck by too many Girls and boys who tend to be Associated with tropical storms. I watched as they rebuilt From my Anna And the storm she was. Many people cried. Many people ignored her leaving And they went about their lives. Me? I miss the rain. And the wind that was her. I miss my hurricane. But the damage she caused me Has me bleeding out too quickly So I might not be around When another hurricane arises.
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92
If I could walk years past or years later like doors we pass I'd go to you and with I we'd who it through the uni and the verse no Dr fix or save just the savouring of new days long ago when then before before after till our internal clocks finish there unwind our bodies lost in time conscious to the space the external clocks would continue and our memories bloom shall wither ash to the vortex the complexity of our life's shall remain unmastered insignificant to passers of graves but at least my love of free we would have hold of each other in those final hours See old smiles once innocent and young in those closing minutes and breath our last in them terminal seconds If only time were as easy to control as reading maps I'd go to you By Dylan Oscar Rowe
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
Stone Limit
My letsels is die sinne My vel is die papier Lees daaruit wat jy wil Die wat omgee bly nog hier My trane is die voorblad My bloed is steeds die ink In my skree ń monster Wat ek nog moet verdrink Die rowe is die punte wat Ek soms nog skraap en skuur My voorkop pêrel sweet In my oë brand hell se vuur My lemme is my penne Die papier hier op my lyf Elke liewe liefdes briefie- Ń letsel, net vir jou geskryf...
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Letsels
It may necessarily be so, It may necessarily be so, The things that you're liable To read in the Bible, May necessarily be so. Moses was found in a stream, True for the times, it seems, They foundered kids in fields and streams, For the crocodiles to take them, Yes, Moses was found in a stream.. It may necessarily be so, It may necessarily be so, The things that your preacher, Is liable to teach you, Read it all in context, you know, It may necessarily be so, Jonah could have lived in a whale, Yes, Jonah could have lived in a whale, Not in the abdomen, The gastric juices would have taken over, But it could have been the mouth of the whale, People were much smaller, The whales were much larger, May necessarily be so, May necessarily be so. Then there's the parting of the Red Sea, Chronologically sound, you see, Thera erupted, The Red Sea parted, The Tsunami swept away the Egyptians and the Pharaoh, May necessarily be so, don't you know, We may be small plebs, But oh my,. We have a powerful God, don't you know, The things that your preacher is liable to teach you, May necessarily be so.... May necessarily be so.... Yes, the things that you're liable To read in the Bible, May necessarily be so......
0
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 8:15 PM UTC
It May Necessarily be So...(To the tune of Normie Rowe, "It ain't necessarily so..."
My rowe lê al spore Op my palms wat klou Aan die yster wat my brand Ń vlam In die droewe kou Ingehok, binne my eie land Tralie hart staan ongeweer Teen vloedwater emosie Wat verbeeldingloos probeer Om te rebuleer teen die seer In my terugslag verval My moed. Ek sal dit Bymekaarskraap vir ń Volgende keer. En my vingers trek nog Lyne en koppel my Sondag-oggend sins En versprei my laaste Bietjie dignity in Die zoo se trash bins Terwyl ek nietig gan confess -"Oh Father I have sinned" Kom Jesus more weer om My in my verlore toestand te Kom vind.... Koop maar ń seisoenkaartjie Vir versoening en vatsoene. More sin ek weer. Eks mos die duiwel se kind
0
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
Duiwel se kind
With Poe-try you can surely get your Words' worth So many words are waiting like a Wolfe at your door, for their Cummings into being. If you listen, they Pound upon your brain They Lamb-aste your viscera, making you Nash your teeth. They create a Millay in your head. So many shapes, so many Hughes Lusting for Moore they Lear at you when you least expect. Look back at them! Like Frost upon the windowpane they write themselves, then, when all is said and Donne melt away too soon. Grasp them when you can. Put them in a *Rowe Taylor* them to your muse, use your Whit, man !
0
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
Punning With Poets (or Can Homer Come Out to Play?)
I remember hot summer drives and lollipops I remember secret looks and midnight hands I remember sand between toes and bare feet on the journey home I remember shared cola and salty chips I remember fun fair screams and fun fair giggles I remember you and how much you used to care By Dylan Oscar Rowe
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
I Remember
I woke up thismorning and I screamed,"I'm awake!" I'm happy, I'm alive, I have love, I'm real,I'm not fake! I laughed and I spun, I jumped and I run, I held my own hand and headed out in the sun! Today I'm on a mission, to go fishin, smile about a boy I'll be kissin, I'm gatherin up hope, to give the good world a poke, Cos I have no shame being proud of my name, I love my mum Elvie, she radiates great, My dad Alan's the man, he's so selfless and grand, Will's the true wise one, he knows how he feels Then there's Allan Mana who's major, he's offspring could fill up a football field, And Peter Rowe, he's our big bro and we do love him so :) [:)] Then there's me, I'm the small one, but only in stature, Mess with my family and I'll give you a fracture ;) [;)] My friends are amazing! Yes they are the best, They love me when I'm evil and when I'm in jest! And how about Grandma? She's doin okay, she turns 90 this year, still as bright as a sun shiny day, I tell her my secrets, without any regret, As much as I trust her, I know she'll forget! But back to my joy, my happiness for life! If your feeling struggle or trouble or strife, Just open your eyes and scream your awake! Tell everyone you love them, And I promise, with out hesitation, come on quicken your pace, It will come back to you like a sweet smack in the face......
0
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 7:34 AM UTC
Im awake
When tears roll just breath deep my dear when anger rages just breath deep my dear when times are hard just breath deep my dear when its all to much just breath deep my dear those waves are yours to master these days are yours here after By Dylan Oscar Rowe
0
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 8:02 AM UTC
Breath
She said, this is where the ocean begins. salty and gentle and rocking with a steady push a steady pull. splashing and diving, splashing and feeling with our feet for the sand. the ocean pulled us outward, the tide: eastward, our legs: toward the shore. striking a balance, old friends, a mister bush, a mister higgins, the third and second kiss to a miss rowe, respectively, respectfully: walking in the street. a young lady with a name I won't try to spell, out the driveway, first left, half a block down. 800 miles from home is a lot closer than 2,000
0
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
old friends and an older ocean
Heavenly silk flows through my fingers, slowly slowly I feel it come and go. The soft whispers of the oak trees, they entangle up in my hair and low. The creek bubbles and the winds blow, I feel it all, I feel it all. The earth shifts between my waiting toes, pulling me down and pushing me ahead. The sharp green blades touch my running feet, cutting and kissing all the wounds I've bled. The dirt and grass on which I tread, I feel it all, I feel it all. Oceans and seas invite me inside, I'm immersed in a whole new universe. Crystals aged by pressure, time, and cruel pain, I cut my fingers on their jewel curse. I search his eyes as they search worse, I feel it all, I feel it all. Thunder rolls and lightning ignites me, I stand fearless in a world void of sun. Toxic rain burns my skin and chills my bones, Still, sky and earth battle the other one, He's the sky that shows tears to none, except me. I feel it all, I feel it all. Except me, no one sees the scorched forests, beautiful trees and mountains burned inside of him. Except me, no one sees the scarred stripped land, the remains of priceless land inside of him. Except me, no one feels it all. No one feels his pain and his sadness, no one feels his joy and his love. Except me, I feel it all, I feel it all. e.g. rowe
0
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
catharsis
With Poe-try you can surely get your Words' worth. So many words are waiting like a Wolfe at your door, for their Cummings into being. If you listen, they Pound upon your brain They Lamb-aste your viscera, making you Nash your teeth. They create a Millay in your head. So many shapes, so many Hughes! Lusting for Moore, they Lear at you when you least expect. Look back at them! Like Frost upon the windowpane they write themselves, then, when all is said and Donne, melt away too soon. Grasp them when you can. Put them in a Rowe. Taylor them to your muse, use your Whit, man!
0
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
Punning With Poets (or Can Homer Come Out to Play?)
Looking at my mother from another angle You can see that She truly is God's Angel. Giving me, my brother and sister all the love That comes from above That comes back down into her arms that wraps around us with her warmest hugs. It can never be enough... Stressing to cook & clean Making sure we have a hot treat to eat, Making sure we have shoes on our feet, Giving us the courage to face the darkness when it's time for us to go to sleep. What more can you ask ? A woman giving you love that will forever last... A woman that goes out her way to make sure you're having a good day? A woman that breaks her neck To make sure your life isn't a wreck The little light that becomes our greatest sunshine. There's no way I can pay you back but the plan is to have you understand No one can be place above you You are appreciated. (To Laura Rowe, my mom) - C.R.
0
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
Momma
PSA: the following message is the point of view of a fictional character, and in no way represents the current beliefs, views, events, mental or physical health of EMILY ROWE. her inspiration is drawn from her life and the world around her, and her writing is art, just like any other form of self expression. EMILY ROWE is a writer, and would really appreciate it if you would sit back and let the art speak to you and make you feel something. thank you. i wake in the morning with the taste of my own blood in my mouth i try to remember the dreams from last night, hair falls around my face the sun scatters across my room the light tries not to touch me, the mirror grimaces holding my reflection like a ****** weapon, thin red lines wrap around my waist from the demon that chased me under the moon's domain, the Past is my lover his hands around my mine but his grip around my mind, these are the days that don't really feel like days at all, these are the days that slip through my fingers. my therapist told me to look in the mirror and tell myself it will be a good day and it will be so, but the mirror hides its face from me afraid to reveal to me what i cannot see, or what i choose not to see. rewind the VHS tapes let's sit around the tv and let the static fill our ears and drain out the noise of our hearts. let's unravel the thread of our souls, watch them mingle on the bedroom floor. we'll be screamed at to be less, be less, be more, you're too much, you're not enough... I AM MY OWN BEING TOO MUCH FOR THE MIRROR NOT ENOUGH FOR THE PAST TOO MUCH FOR MY PEERS NOT ENOUGH FOR THOSE ABOVE ME TOO MUCH FOR HIM NOT ENOUGH FOR HER in a generation of instant gratification they do not have the patience to watch me grow in a generation born by the Internet they do not see deeper than the surface of what i put on their screens one day they will see what has been here inside me since the day i first picked up a pencil. let's sit around the tv let's wait for the tapes to rewind let's watch our lives unfold
0
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC
VHS TAPES
PSA: the following message is the point of view of a fictional character, and in no way represents the current beliefs, views, events, mental or physical health of EMILY ROWE. her inspiration is drawn from her life and the world around her, and her writing is art, just like any other form of self expression. EMILY ROWE is a writer, and would really appreciate it if you would sit back and let the art speak to you and make you feel something. thank you. i wake in the morning with the taste of my own blood in my mouth i try to remember the dreams from last night, hair falls around my face the sun scatters across my room the light tries not to touch me, the mirror grimaces holding my reflection like a ****** weapon, thin red lines wrap around my waist from the demon that chased me under the moon's domain, the Past is my lover his hands around my mine but his grip around my mind, these are the days that don't really feel like days at all, these are the days that slip through my fingers. my therapist told me to look in the mirror and tell myself it will be a good day and it will be so, but the mirror hides its face from me afraid to reveal to me what i cannot see, or what i choose not to see. rewind the VHS tapes let's sit around the tv and let the static fill our ears and drain out the noise of our hearts. let's unravel the thread of our souls, watch them mingle on the bedroom floor. we'll be screamed at to be less, be less, be more, you're too much, you're not enough... I AM MY OWN BEING TOO MUCH FOR THE MIRROR NOT ENOUGH FOR THE PAST TOO MUCH FOR MY PEERS NOT ENOUGH FOR THOSE ABOVE ME TOO MUCH FOR HIM NOT ENOUGH FOR HER in a generation of instant gratification they do not have the patience to watch me grow in a generation born by the Internet they do not see deeper than the surface of what i put on their screens one day they will see what has been here inside me since the day i first picked up a pencil. let's sit around the tv let's wait for the tapes to rewind let's watch our lives unfold
Continue reading...
55
so im laying in bed, right? and it’s like 7 am and i had totally told myself i was going for a run i instead laid in bed, until exactly 9:27 am, giving me 33 minutes to be out of my dorm and on my way to class. for nearly two and a half hours a large blue beast named Depression sat on my chest, and smiled a big sharp grin. he lit his cigarette and said “It’s all pointless, you know,” he took a long drag and blew the smoke on my face. Anxiety is dancing around the room laughing maniacally her hands shaking as she reorganizes the same shelf for the seventh time. he shares his cigarette with her and I think they’re the ugliest couple i’ve ever seen. he readjusts on my chest, and starts to list the things that i need to do but can’t. Anxiety starts listing the things that could go wrong today and tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day— when I get back from class Anxiety will jump me her long nails digging into my arms the overwhelming feeling of death surging through my veins i struggle to breathe i struggle to lower my heart rate-- there is a toxic relationship living inside of my brain. and i am so tired of being a third wheel. e.g. rowe
0
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
toxic relationship