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"sundrops" poems
Paints of dark twilight hues, Slathered across in blunt strokes. Blend with deft hands, Cajole gently with jabs and pokes. Backdrop begging for a few others. Longing to hold in infinite embrace. Friends of earth and midnight sky. Worthy of a doe-eyed lovers' gaze. Cascading moonbeam... Drenching all in silvery white. Restless twinkling stars... Singing their mismatched might. Silhouetted landscape as horizon, Darkened oils of plateaued ridges. Finest brush could only manage, To close the gap, I build bridges. Nearing completion, this stint on canvas. Nuances of dawn for what I've begun, Usher the arrival of a brand new day. All I need now is a few drops of sun.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
Sundrops
Wildflowers in grey day sun, I like how they feel, Proud amongst the stones Of craggy walls and splintered Wood in my village so bare, Littered, wild blooming sundrops, So bonnie, loud and cheerfully Clear that this is a new day To be beautiful.
0
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Beautiful
the sky over i-95 is violet, the color of the deepest bruise like the one you actually remember getting, that eclipsed all the little gray-green ones from tripping over belgian blocks, and mismeasuring the distance to the doorframe. the sky over i-95 cannot hold water very long and soon it doesn’t. you look out the new-car window silent windshield wipers and you remember the other times it’s rained on your occasion (with stinging peroxide sometimes, and sometimes gasoline, when you had a match in the glovebox, but mostly water). you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed in the not-quite-hurricane or the deafening of the drops on the car’s aluminum backbone. you used to trust they’d never fall, they’d never flood the crashes you passed rubbernecking were never fatal traffic would always clear you’d never be late. as you watch the oversized leaves support the waterweight today you think how every bit of that is gone from you now siphoned slowly and quietly but unmistakably gone from you now you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up: “I do not trust the trees. I do not trust the raindrops.” quieter you think “I do not trust the future. I do not trust an empty building. I do not trust the movie theater. I do not trust the ocean, or the river. I do not trust water when I can’t see the bottom.” you get a little philosophical as you get hungry and the exit numbers get high “I do not trust the highway. I do not trust me. I do not trust the curtains to keep me safe when I sleep, and I do not trust waking to bring me morning.” you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up, but also because that’s how the thoughts come. there’s something that you do trust that’s enough to warm you as this unseasonable may comes to a close. you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed and you think how they might fall but they haven’t yet. you think how it’s kind of okay not to trust them: you trust something else.                                                    (pain is lucrative.                                                    so is smiling.)                  a female cardinal perches outside the window of                  the room, just as you arrive to leave again                  and you think how she's just as pretty as the                  candy-apple-red male, though she's dark against the tree trunk and when you’re back to celebrate the years since leaving you might even trust that tree trunk and the girlcardinal you have to squint to see                                                    you might also trust morning, then,                                                    and night. meantime, the sky lightens: sundrops while the rain comes loudly still.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
I-95
the sky over i-95 is violet, the color of the deepest bruise like the one you actually remember getting, that eclipsed all the little gray-green ones from tripping over belgian blocks, and mismeasuring the distance to the doorframe. the sky over i-95 cannot hold water very long and soon it doesn’t. you look out the new-car window silent windshield wipers and you remember the other times it’s rained on your occasion (with stinging peroxide sometimes, and sometimes gasoline, when you had a match in the glovebox, but mostly water). you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed in the not-quite-hurricane or the deafening of the drops on the car’s aluminum backbone. you used to trust they’d never fall, they’d never flood the crashes you passed rubbernecking were never fatal traffic would always clear you’d never be late. as you watch the oversized leaves support the waterweight today you think how every bit of that is gone from you now siphoned slowly and quietly but unmistakably gone from you now you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up: “I do not trust the trees. I do not trust the raindrops.” quieter you think “I do not trust the future. I do not trust an empty building. I do not trust the movie theater. I do not trust the ocean, or the river. I do not trust water when I can’t see the bottom.” you get a little philosophical as you get hungry and the exit numbers get high “I do not trust the highway. I do not trust me. I do not trust the curtains to keep me safe when I sleep, and I do not trust waking to bring me morning.” you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up, but also because that’s how the thoughts come. there’s something that you do trust that’s enough to warm you as this unseasonable may comes to a close. you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed and you think how they might fall but they haven’t yet. you think how it’s kind of okay not to trust them: you trust something else.                                                    (pain is lucrative.                                                    so is smiling.)                  a female cardinal perches outside the window of                  the room, just as you arrive to leave again                  and you think how she's just as pretty as the                  candy-apple-red male, though she's dark against the tree trunk and when you’re back to celebrate the years since leaving you might even trust that tree trunk and the girlcardinal you have to squint to see                                                    you might also trust morning, then,                                                    and night. meantime, the sky lightens: sundrops while the rain comes loudly still.
Continue reading...
58
i will write simply like a snow melt in the spring water brings music and our feet are washed clean remind the stars that we named them even if they take our souls we will forge them again in the fireplace and breathe life back into them soon we can rest in the music but first let us use them just like we were meant to now is the space to give your heart its grace so we feed the lakes their icy beverage and make the songs that melt the frost i arrived like fire when rain was your only hope our souls washed in the burning sun the conundrums of love somebody escaped with our watermelons sundrops upon the lake feelings we can never shake our ecstasy is awake and we have outgrown our shallows swallowed by the hand of fate our lives we did partake in yes we have reached further into the thick of it into the blackest night i walked into my own dismay and displayed upon the sky was the light that caught your eye like threads of shredded rope as darkness could never cope with the worst of it i sold all of our hope for you should never have to ***** for emptiness send me the wisdom to unleash you from this prison so please give me another kiss and fill me with your stories for now we will forever know that dreams are only allegories
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 2:37 PM UTC
conundrums of love
The rain drinks my world Blanket of sundrops about The grass looks more green
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Sundrops
*Hanging downward Leafy branches try to taste The tangibility of earth. Melted sundrops on the plains Roll with grass blades Welcoming the dark To kiss his tangerine love. Songs of the returning wings Make the sky more grayish-green Than those foggy heads Of awaiting trees. Wearing a cloak Of tomorrow's  serendipity Evening comes home.*
0
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
Evening Comes Home
Fingertips dance through fog, Particles alight in treetops, Waves ripple upon his face, Cities below, nature engulfs us, On the mountain top, winds blow: I turn not from society, yet find essence far from man, He is all that I have been, and will be, I reach out to touch a single sundrop, and feel, Duality in an instant, yet still I am me.
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 3:46 PM UTC
Sundrops
i wish i could have known you a lot better a lot younger so i could see you like this sundrops on your kisses with colour in your eyes fingers trail the frosty panes as we trade breath on these cool winter mornings our hands forming hearts in the left over spaces between fingers that hold my soul delicately carefully touched by the moon and the stars as our fingers run over the frosty winter glass
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 4:32 PM UTC
like
Hold my hand and fly, and fly My sweetest Caroline Falling is the nectar of life Like sundrops, from your eyes Sing of souls once downtrodden Who will see light in you again Hold in time, this hand of mine My sweetest Caroline Keep in view, in view is you My lovely Ashley Ruth Pray in day your dreams come true Though these dreams of yours are few Keep in mind the hopes you treasure Love is truth, not always pleasure Float right through from greys to blues My lovely Ashley Ruth Run as if the summer wind My darling Madelyn Show the spring where to begin In this cold world we live in Stand stronger than the maelstrom Pray for what the world might become Heart of gold in plains of tin My darling Madelyn
0
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
A Love In Threes
you start me off winter cold as shivers then good as golden sundrops warm me up as tea leaves swirl me as I used to laugh good as staying under warm covers all afternoons what day can be as this besides what I have with tearing through the tv guide when the sun is low in the distance and the day begins early and ends about five not time to drive around nor time to save you
0
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 11:57 PM UTC
saving me time
Sundrops and melted hearts fill the streets in their empty parts where the asphalt starts to tear and break the melty bits fix the mistake And flowerbeams and rainbow-daggers launch attacks until sadness staggers clutching at a mortal head-laceration the tears have now left the station So it is that on a sunny day A funny day, a Mon-i-day The good bits make better The cheeks that were wetter When good thoughts had all gone away
0
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC
Sundrops
Sundrops kiss the wintry chills And vibrant fields of flowers bring While spilling over dancing hills Dew and songs of dawning spring
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC
Spring
"When Fiona Smiles" When Fiona smiles It's like sundrops from heaven Moonbeams in the night sky Rainbows in the valley When Fioana smiles It's like stardust in the northwoods A sea breeze in the harbor The sunrise in the morning And the angels sing as the trees sway The birds wing, the children play It's made easy, the many miles On this journey When Fiona smiles When Fiona smiles It's butterflies in the sunshine A warm breeze in the valley Feathers in the moonlight And the angels sing as the trees sway The birds wing, the children play It's made easy, the many miles On this journey When Fiona smiles When Fioana smiles
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 1:43 PM UTC
When Fionna Smiles
I did not let go in a shower butterfly wings and golden sundrops Not in a cloud where the rattling of the descent sent soft rustles and shivers rippled through the child watching Wide eyed bright mind purest confetti for the party of one (a coming of age) no, i let go little and late (and alone)
0
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
leaf (i.)
Pale moon You glittering orb of ice and sand Reflecting sundrops Cascading on our darkened land Pale moon What secrets you know Lovers stolen kisses And the torment of the human soul How we’ve wailed to you moon How we’ve cried How we’ve confided in you Things we dare not bring into the sunlight Pale moon Rising is your ancient duty We crave you moon You’ve bewitched us with your ghostly beauty
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Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 6:50 PM UTC
Pale Moon
Reflection of sundrops As diamonds moving rough bright rock vulcanos Goldmines shining through the grounds , in the dirt hiding Ready for mining Pearls under sea at oceans bottom Sheltered by shells Covered up by plastic waste All this richness of this earth in the darkest of all places. That’s the beauty of Mother Nature Till greed of men ruined everything. Global warming at the end. End of planet Earth , Human kind and Mother Nature Shell ✨🐚
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Jun 5, 2021
Jun 5, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC
Mother Nature