"squadron" poems - Hello Poetry

Anger, is the steaming red on her face refusal creates in an instance; jealousy is foaming green profusion of colors in motion takes this dance for them to upward and downward turns, or a sudden dissolution--- an intense ****** in unison. Even in darkness he can see the spasmodic ebbing waves sleep is the banana plantation where night wears translucent green "nobody would see us here" she whispers in his ears, as if they are thieving sex,eyeing the yellow banana she likes, to play with Purple is the psychedelic color smeared on horizon when dreams repeatedly fly down like night bats and happen the way mind designs we don't want to leave the scene of the dream even when we know well that the show for us is now over we just want to hang around like the dog, in the place it got a juicy bone. Yellow is the banana song that's heard as wave after wave, by the blind bat squadron that roams with raw aggression, for raids above the plantations Unripe bananas show green fingers to say "NO! we aren't ripe" like coy underage virgins. Then, they ripen, go yellow some even bright red, inviting who is blue here is the sky and those bats who got the bananas still raw green Night decents on the banana land as the white umbrella of sun is snatched by the dark maiden. Black is the bat's wing extending and folding like lust, umbrella and the like. He finds her shivering fingers like a serpent, on the banana trunk slithering down, as he dreams bats, banana, blue sky and she slithering over him.

0

Jan 3, 2015

Jan 3, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC

k-balachandran

Bats, Banana, Blue sky

Anger, is the steaming red on her face refusal creates in an instance; jealousy is foaming green profusion of colors in motion takes this dance for them to upward and downward turns, or a sudden dissolution--- an intense ****** in unison. Even in darkness he can see the spasmodic ebbing waves sleep is the banana plantation where night wears translucent green "nobody would see us here" she whispers in his ears, as if they are thieving sex,eyeing the yellow banana she likes, to play with Purple is the psychedelic color smeared on horizon when dreams repeatedly fly down like night bats and happen the way mind designs we don't want to leave the scene of the dream even when we know well that the show for us is now over we just want to hang around like the dog, in the place it got a juicy bone. Yellow is the banana song that's heard as wave after wave, by the blind bat squadron that roams with raw aggression, for raids above the plantations Unripe bananas show green fingers to say "NO! we aren't ripe" like coy underage virgins. Then, they ripen, go yellow some even bright red, inviting who is blue here is the sky and those bats who got the bananas still raw green Night decents on the banana land as the white umbrella of sun is snatched by the dark maiden. Black is the bat's wing extending and folding like lust, umbrella and the like. He finds her shivering fingers like a serpent, on the banana trunk slithering down, as he dreams bats, banana, blue sky and she slithering over him.