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Nobody Feb 2018
I’m wearing these shades, to hide my face.
Since you’re all staring so hard;
watching me just in case,
maybe I’ll slip up,
or reveal a hidden mistake.
Hanging onto my every word
“What does that mean?”
“How can we be sure?”
I'm not your t.v show,
don’t put me on your pedestal.
I’m not your savior,
I can’t heal your soul.
I never asked for this,
so go turn your head;
quit looking at my mess,
or waiting for what I say next.
And go save yourself,
because I can’t help.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
Painting shades of blue
the tinted clouds
over the rainbow
jumped away.

Now it's a diving black swan
somewhere down the all
clear lapis lazuli blue sky.

Only one is left behind
wish I was with my butterfly!
Jack Aug 2018
Sad like blue,
But many shades of cool.
All I see is red,
Fire inside my head.
Luminescent like white,
Yet boring but bold.
Divergent in black,
Enthralling in the darkness.
I challenge the contrast.

(C)
Traumeria Apr 2016
Colored emotions
Give life to blank outlined souls
Tint or hue or shade.
Haiku
Tommy Randell Apr 2017
come blow my brains out
with your body of a gun
frazzle my eyes
with your smile of a sun

crush my bones
to splinters and shards
teach me mercy
is only for *******

let your kisses be fire
your breath a disease
bring your apocalypse
down on me please

sext me the text
the call to arms
skin me alive
with the blades in your palms

I don't want it cosy
all hearts and flowers
rain down on me
like a meteor shower

and the knife of your tongue
and the knife of your tongue
pressed to my flesh
like the touch of the sun

let it brand me as yours
burn me deep so it shows
I'm the brunt of your love
as everyone knows

through the 50 shades
of your tendencies
I am the prey
and you are the need

a willing accomplice
to mutual destruction
where passion results
in total eruption

it is not perverted
to want love this way
you know it and I know it
it's 50 clichés

in public poetry
on private sheets
it's what happens to normal
when preverts meet!
A satire, of course, on the whole 50 Shades phenomenon - I was going to call it 50 Shades of Clichés but choices are choices.

'Preverts' ? ... yes, that's right. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ud9zBKJJQe4  Hahahaaa
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
Bloomed upon a star!
The setting sun sliding far
into the twilight pool
captured the picture!

Eye on the bumblebee!
That was first to bask in the sun
thinking that it dove to the length
into the shades of the midday rose.
There it's silhouette gets caught
is half-lit on the bank
of the milky way brook.

Shades of blue put
in the mix an inky shadow.
Oh, what’s in an unseen hue?
The sprawling black night puts
a veil on the day on every eyeball.  
Guess what it’s anyone's guess!
Even the leading light of the day
the sun shuffles an acre of the night
blindfolded down the full moon!
Meredith Ann Jan 31
Voices are always
much more vivid
after a period of absence from them in my ear.

Nevertheless,
your burnt orange nature was so shocking,
that it was almost painful

And as I grappled with
how I had lived next to it for so long,
I realized that all the shades were wrong,

For when it was just us,
you'd stoop down to my level,
as your rough tones would break into melting amber.

But today was not the case,
as the energy coursing through your throat,
was a bright, blinding tangerine

My name in your mouth seared me,
my ears burned as I listened to you sing,
The pulsating light left me squinting in surprise

Suddenly I've found the motivation to remove myself from you.
For you no longer are the answer to the relaxation I seek,
As I accept that your makeup no longer consists of my cool tones.
Cné Oct 2017
The surf provides lullabies
as ocean echoes roll.
Too soon, the sunlight glitters
as the dawn turns gray to gold.

I wake and I rub my eyes
beside the sandy beach
My love beside me, languid lips
within an easy reach.

I whisper, sweet good mornings
as your dreams I brush away.
You stretch and yawn, responding to
requests to "come and play".

Lingered memories caress,
of last night's rising moon
with silver waves and ripples,
beyond the dark lagoon.

In shades of colors that mix and smudge
you take your time, no rush
My ******* tingle, at the thought
upon my skin, spreads flush.

In reverie, flutters reminisce,
your wanton body on mine.
Whispered moans in my ear, you ******,
"I'm yours", I hear on rewind.
When last night's... turns into this morning's
Amanda Brown Jul 26
Blocked.
Blocking the hope of a text message.
A chance to even get in my head more.
Closed.
Closing the sheets in my room so I don’t get a  glimpse of you.
Down.
Keeping my head down as I walk into the room.
So that my eyes don’t “ironically” find you.
Cold.
The chills I get when I walk past you.
Lies.
The foundation of our “relationship”.
The series of actions I went through, throughout my break-up.
JS CARIE Nov 2018
Home and contentment are synonymous
The desire to reach,
while innate or evident
quiet or curious
keeps a continuum over discrepant cultures, the world over
An opulence of love and warmth
Having one ingredient can make fertile the other
One without the match, make an ordinary or secondary batch
Making one rich with joy, their other can be broke and remote
seeking satisfaction

Home is not a location
or bricks of residence
But a written word in deep established sentiment
An atmosphere cloaked in the unfalter
The taking of arms to conclude their hold
developed in elements of the affectionate
No disaster, constructed or natural
could alter

As I am now,
locked in the shadow of shades lost
surrendering independent power in a momentary yield,
On hands and knees, bloodshot and in need of a shield...
In need of my one...
the imperative relevance of feeling her
That selfish influential significance that creates safe harbor at journeys end
Generated by the glow of resolve
in the home of her arms contentment
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
At times I heard the songs of the giants
who opted to sing for a glass of wine!

Like Omar Khayyam would sing to the grove of vine,
while singing their lullabies they wouldn’t mind,
defying the bloomer stars in the moonlights
gladly treading on the black alleys of the night.
Didn't they budge, didn't they bend to pick up  
a potion of the sea, billowing in the dark?
But they opted out, just for a glass of wine!

To paint a glimpse of that gorgeous Saqi
till now they shun, lending the sun a paintbrush,
‘cause "if only it was colourful enough,” yet the sun
paints the enduring shades of the blue yonder.
But they turned around—just for a glass of wine!

The moon hanging low over the ocean took a pause.
The earth weighed down so deep is brimful!
Every sunrise paints new, loves to shine on once more
That delved-deep earth vintage taste, cooled in age-old,  
now close by the hands breathe in, full of warm south.
Yet they opted out—just for a glass of wine!

Even the time is speechless, ask me not but why.
Still keeps an ear bent on the wall of the leaning sky.  
Nor those who pop out with an inside scoop are ever drunk.
Nor they leak out, it’s a sea off the sea or Abe-Hayath.
It ain’t that small, it is the deathless spring of elixir!
plots of land that dance in spasms
slam dancing
bed frames with slots of wood
parallel lines on the oud
should i bother
with all this fruit
i choose to rot a while
in style of course
so much nonsense
this is truly *******
a store bought wedding
a slow decline into nothing
ship me your wisdom and i’ll fly you to the moon
we’re departing sooner than you thought
you dream until noon
selves are solitude
i command you to commune with your soul
solid is a word
worlds are frozen in dreams
after the apocalypse
there is ice cream for supper
among the rubber and the forest
there is a carpet of grasses and herbs
left to dry in the dehydrator
upon the lowest setting i am making
the bed and taking my shirt off
stores demand consumption
yet in purchasing you are corrupted
assumptions of negligence
thread our hearts with your effulgence
i sense you are suffering
forever there is a differential
a disintegration of the essential
once upon a time i spoke in rhythm
made sense and could suspend judgement
now there are no more words
only thoughts
when the thoughts end nothing will be left
i’ll be suspended
like a balloon or a parachute
like a woman who seeks to become president
can you show me evidence that we are not asleep
the blossoming rose
has stolen my clothes and returned our damages
shelves of shadows on hungry tiptoes
i seek necessity in your eyebrows
streaks of lightning shape your features
i see incandescence throughout your water
you are the teacher seeking for the most high
blessings upon the eternal
in splendor the triumphant allegory
crowns thy falsehood victorious over demons
arbors of willows in relationships
Jordan Rowan Jan 2016
The night sounds of fallen angels
Building stairways back to home
And the radio plays softly
Like a crooner left alone
As the night falls into the velvet shades
And beats down the bedroom door
Of all the visions that come to me
It's of one I'm hoping for

The postman closes up the station
And the buses get cleaned with rain
The asylum rests and barely breathes
As the countryside goes insane
Prophets speak of peace
On the dim hue of TV screens
Of all the moments that seem real
I still wait to watch my dreams

Imposed upon the westward wall
Are the silhouettes of weeping oaks
Swaying in the wind that talks
But they only tell me jokes
Swept beneath the silver stars
Sleeping on blanket clouds
Of all the space above me
I feel as if I can't get out

Headlights and passing trains
Sound like time passing by
Gone are the hearts inside
Like the years beyond my eyes
Sounds from the suburb city
Blow like sirens in my mind
Of all the thoughts within me
Only one freezes time
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