"sunglasses" poems
Thick, warm, fuzzy air
Radiates against your skin, making you want to doze off
You sit on the front of a low red car that looks another era, leaning on the glossy hood.
I want to put your lips on mine
The world feels yellow, and orange.
It's as if clear smoke has filled the air
My eyes are dimmed through thick sunglasses, my body absorbing the warmth through jeans and a small black shirt
I'm in a lucid daze
Looking at you through a curtain of leather black hair, not bothered to move it from my face.
Your eyes the crisp refreshing blue in a world tinted amber
Like a fresh spray of water on my back
After hours of sunbathing
We sit there
We say nothing
We take in the sun
We don't need anything else
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
"i'm watching you, stupid ***** Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******** excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you. helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that shit. and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
I need kisses
like a fish needs colored rocks
and a bear needs honey
I need it like
eyes need sunglasses
and skin needs sunscreen
Like people need chocolate
or french fries or fried food
or fast wi-fi or vacation
The thing about needing
- I don't
- It'd be nice though
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
Pathetic parasite
of a woman
perpetuates
love indefinitely,
a plague
upon hopelessly
romantic people.
A performance.
Smiling, always.
Hates
good news and
sleeps around,
sleeps
surrounded
in black light.
Wearing sunglasses.
Her day is
nighttime.
She breathes
aesthetic,
instagram posts
to survive.
But thrives, only.
The numb gummed
princess cries
every day and
yes. She said it,
even
a hundred times
but
language
proves flexible.
Same words mean
different things
and we
obviously don’t
speak the same
language.
I meant mine.
I didn’t know
she’d sell hers
for snow.
Fame.
Attention from strangers.
Welcome home.
Winter came and stayed,
love never lived here.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
He wears a Beanie
Aviator Sunglasses
Stumble over wheels
Look
Eye contact
I smile
You blow a kiss
I want to wink
I don't
I smile
I like you
I'll never see you again
Bicycle boy.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
Today at the train station
A stranger came up to me
And asked for directions.
I had the sudden urge to give him the wrong ones
Or take him behind the stairwell and
Gut him
And let his family watch as stomach and liver
Flobber out over slipping intestines, or simply
Grab him and throw him onto the train tracks
As the half five train approaches.
It would give people a reason to
Remove their sunglasses,
And possibly even their iPods,
Headphones dangling uncomfortably
As they fumble to save a pointless
(As well as futile) situation.
Maybe they would film it with their phones.
Maybe I'd be famous.
Instead I just sigh and give him the right directions,
Tell him the correct train to travel on,
And slowly smile as he waddles off
And doesn't believe me.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
One Summer's night looking out the
back window at the back garden
My! I couldn't get over it, how bright it
was
You'd think the sun was still shining
The Big Moon casting its ghostly pallor
over everything
Like an Enchantress's dark spell
The strange cold beauty of it, it held
me enthralled
I could only stand there watching,
silently in awe;
Suddenly, a peculiar thought came
into my head
I smiled at its outrageous suggestion
Then grabbing my sunglasses and my
old deck chair
I went out into the garden and sat right down there underneath the stars
Bathing in the silvery light of the
moon's cold rays,
Well I tell you, all the night creatures
going about their night business
They all did a double take "Hey, that's the funny human bloke, what's he
doin' out this late",
Even the cat came over and rubbed her eyes," Wait a minute ", she said, " this isn't right, you're not supposed to
come out at night ":
Sensing their curiosity and their
general discomfiture
I lowered my shades and looking at them all gathered there in the shiny
bright dark, I said
" Don't worry gang, don't be alarmed,
no! don't be aghast
It's only.... well, it's only Great Art.
II
I don't know
But it seems
Wherever I go
Great Art is never far behind
In tow.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:25 AM UTC
I walk through campus wearing
black leggings and those faded, leather
boots. I’m even wearing an
infinity scarf I bought full price at
Anthropologie and a pair of tiger-striped
cat eye sunglasses. **** I look good.
On top of it, I’m smoking a Parliament
menthol, my red-lined lips whipping
smoke into the dead air, creating
a grey cloud that some would call cancerous and
others, ****
But no one notices me, and, candidly, I
am okay with that because I notice me, and
I am a big red dance button that demands to
be pushed. So, I push myself and
groove down the brown brick road all the way
to classroom 114 in the science building.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
Fell in love last friday
with a non-binary star
woke up and brushed my teeth
with sunglasses on thinking
of them
white shots of hail and the windows
jeweled from the rain
a hot week and hot nights
followed by a hot star
and sheets of rains from grey clouds
changing
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
I got blow-out on my hair
Am at the countryside
A mixture of emotions
Envy, admiration, hatred
And jeering too.
I got sunglasses on my face
That gives me
The unwelcome company
Of confused glances
At the countryside.
I got a necklace around my neck
Glittering with life
Never puts it down even at sleep
It is not “manly”
At the countryside.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 5:26 AM UTC
Superhero
I have a pipe and dark sunglasses,
taking names and kicking some *****
I'm a powerless superhero,
they call me Captain De Niro.
Owe me money, you better pay,
or pain will be on your way.
You better not be selling drugs,
or my lead pipe will give severe hugs.
Don't be ****** any innocent women,
will be breaking your hands and fingers, all ten.
Molesting kids and you don't wanna know,
the dumpster, your ***** I will throw.
I don't allow any peeping or stalking,
with broken legs, there will be no walking.
I'm one of those modern day vigilantes,
on my head, I wear my wife's *******
Can't leap a building in a single bound,
like you, I get dizzy when spun around.
Can't go under water and summon fish,
I prefer them on my eating dish.
No fancy car or a sidekick,
but my pipe can break a brick.
Don't have an invisible jet,
like you, I'm in deep debt.
People have no idea who I am,
I might be Steve, I might be Sam.
Just a man who hates violence,
I hate people that are spineless.
I catch bank robbers in the act,
the odd against them are fully stacked.
I help keep crime off the streets,
can't count the number of villain defeats.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
A simpler life
No more anger and strife
In the yard, in the sun
Spinning in gardening fun
A big floppy hat
Sunglasses acrobat
Crisp, refreshing mint juleps
When I finish planting these tulips
Owning a house is dream
A capitalist scheme
Millennial bravado
When you choose avocado
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:11 AM UTC
If hell is engulfed in fire
as bright as the sun,
And heaven is lit
by a divine light,
Then I shall die with sunglasses.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
The light pollution
from the lives of little people
in the big city
reflects off the lowriding clouds,
the same way my knees reflect
in the little puddles
from the big rains.
It hurts my eyes to look up
without sunglasses,
hurts my lips to think of tasting
the subway oil that
drip
drip
drips
I speculate at the transformers,
part automatic, part people
in their pre-ripped jeans,
learning to get their Ns
to drive themselves away,
yarn trailing from their sweaters
like parade float streamers.
Citizens run so fast
to catch the early train home,
freefalling down the stairs
breathing in the exhales
of the other racer’s exhaust.
Marking their triumphs
with participation ribbons.
The pacific pants at toes,
a puppy that only occasionally misbehaves.
Impatient for attention,
waves wagging back and forth,
up the imitation river,
past the downtown.
Kicking the sea wall with it's gravity boots.
The geese are on hiatus
until they can take back the city.
Making the drains overflow,
creating their own habitat,
they’ll strut their haughty markings,
distinguished from orcas,
away from any saline nonsense.
Were we to retrain the population
to turn blind eyes,
we’d be much more efficient,
stop wasting time contending
to society’s obsession
with documenting itself.
But then, what would we do all day?
Creating light pollution
must give immediate gratification.
Once all the lights are turned off,
the influence won’t continue,
creating a lack of permanence,
making our need to be remembered
seem trivial indeed.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
~~~
our perception is
as the full moon
viewed through
SUNGLASSES
(c) soulsurvivor
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
When I think about the future with you I smile about the little things
I think about the late nights on the couch, eating leftover Chinese food and laughing until we cry
I think about the days at the pool, putting sunscreen on your back, and finding your sunglasses for you because you misplace everything
I think about the sunny afternoons, exhausted from the work day, and you're pouring me a drink and telling me you're so ******* proud of me
Aug 22, 2021
Aug 22, 2021 at 11:54 AM UTC
when arrived, feels like home
like a bubble, like a dome
peaceful people all around
enjoying this crazy sound
so much colors, crazy figures
all this smells pulling my triggers
intense, incense, aromatic
be tense? no sense, just be static
entering, meeting the fellows
or should I just say some jellos
wiggling with the rhythmic music
for us this is therapeutic
waves of sound hitting my face
punching hard with deepest bass
I believe that things will turn
I choose not to be concernded
this 'so crazy, this 'so good
here we find the greatest brood
jewls of every generation
some eletric, others pacient
colored waters, not for thirst
only if you need a burts
shining patterns underneath
make it hard for me to breath
then the sun comes up for us
contributes for the new buzz
now you see who's there with you
and who didn't make it through
sunglasses get pulled out
soon the sun will loudly shout
soul, mind and body fused
into one nice breakfeast juice
that's when people start to leave
not what I like to archieve
"I will stay", I always say
until the end of the day
molly, goa, lucy, prog
buds and buddys, love and fog
I'm so glad this moments caught me
this is just my type of party
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Smelly Feet
In the sun, feel the heat,
and the odor of my smelly feet.
All people squeezing their nose,
from the cheese between my toes.
Shoes melted on the road,
smell spreading to the next zip code.
Even I'm wearing a gas mask,
sipping whiskey from my flask.
Feet burning as I start to run,
stick a fork in them, they're done.
Still a mile left to go,
I can see my feet as they glow.
Leaving melting skin far behind,
left sunglasses home and going blind.
Hot tar starting to melt,
I'd do anything for a conveyor belt.
Soaking feet when I get home,
Pretty soon, I will see bone.
My house is just down the block,
vultures circling as they stalk.
Getting worse is the odor,
laughing at me is the Caddyshack gopher.
The Rock wants to know what I'm cooking,
it's my feet, that is brewing.
The smell is spreading worldwide,
my feet are now Kentucky fried.
People cheer as I reach my door,
**** my feet are very sore.
Sprayed my feet with tough acting Tinactin,
burned so bad it melted the rest of my skin.
Soaked my bones in cold water,
never have I felt a road more hotter.
Sprayed Fabreze for about an hour,
then I took a long cold shower.
Moonshine and pain pills dull my pain,
it was my own fault so can't complain.
Now I wear special shoes,
my smelly ***** feet even made the news.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
"...a frozen memory, like any photo,
where nothing is missing, not even,
and especially, nothingness..."
-- Julio Cortázar, "Blow Up"
Mirror-mad,
he photographed reflections:
sunstorms in puddles,
cities in canals,
double portraits framed
in sunglasses,
the fat phantoms who dance
on the flanks of cars.
Nothing caught his eye
unless it bent
or glistered
over something else.
He trapped clouds in bottles
the way kids
trap grasshoppers.
Then one misty day
he was stopped
by the windshield.
Behind him,
an avenue of trees,
before him,
the mirror of that scene.
He seemed to enter
what, in fact, he left.
5.8k
The smell of flowers, as I see my finger tips touching the very top of the flower forest. It's almost Spring - Oh, how will the flowers all bloom and blossom.
CAN YOU IMAGINE MY HAPPY PLACE???
The beach!!!! As I step foot onto the soft soothing sand. The sound of waves - exactly what the soul needs.
Sunglasses on my face.. The view of the sun... As I feel the fantasy of a happy place.
And can you picture the trees in Spring? mmm..
CAN YOU FEEL SPRING?... Oh how I love this feeling.
By A_Jai
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 5:30 AM UTC
~~
Then, if ever, is the red color grows fade
The petals of red roses drop
If the birds don't sing any songs
And even a butterfly doesn't
Play on a purple flower
If the mistake happens in the rain
You 'll not cry
You can't be afraid of thunder
They will cleanse you
And when I am gone
Forgive me, but the melody in the air
You will come, playing in the garden,
Dance with the lost grasshoppers
Any yellow day when red flamboyant will be bloomed
Will have to take off your colorful sunglasses
At the very noon will be floated on the Cuckoo's love song
Again and Again it will prove your arrival,
O' Spring
You'll be the very white sky after rain
Will bloom red hibiscus
On that gilded day
Red flamboyant 'll be loved with yellow flamboyant
Patched up with melody and words
Will be made new Songs,
New Poetry,
With the yellow flowers tune
Then again,
You 'll not sing a song of despair,
Not even a song of hiatus,
Will sing the Songs of Joy,
Stir in the way of dreams,
Mating
Back to again and again
I 'll come back to you
Both 'll make a love
For the creation of a new life
~~
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Looking at the world
through sunglasses,
the brown tint of a polaroid photo.
I hear nothing but
the wind in my ear creating white noise,
blocking everything else out.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
These golden sunglasses
Appeared on my doorstep
The last day of
The spring semester,
Sitting in a plastic pumpkin.
They weren’t mine
But when they break
I get them fixed
And when they don’t sit straight
I keep them
Because they remind me
Of how finals were over
And I slept through so many goodbyes.
The night before
We lay in your room
Sounds flowing through us like
Waves in the ocean,
Then moved to the grass outside
Watching more shooting stars than I could count.
The wood by the dorms was dark
And we ventured in in fits and starts,
The shadows of authority figures
Dancing around us.
The gazebo was silent.
And we journeyed across campus,
A pilgrimage through abandoned constructions
To see the church alight in the dark,
But the power was out and it was nothing.
I woke up in the afternoon
And knew that spring wouldn’t be back
For us.
The sunglasses weren’t mine
But someone left them at my door
And I keep them.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
The Pill Poppers Proverb For Purchasing:
Only buy from friends
who'll give you
the solid truth.
Capsules can
carry lies
they could
have been
in
the hands
of stoned-cold-heart
killer
or
careless self-proclaimed pharmacist?
It's hard to spot
a double agent
in a sea of sunglasses.
Stickwitchure gut.
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
Down to my last bit of strength
Walk out of work in sobbing tears
Start the hike home
half a mile
81 degrees
"Yo Panda you look beat"
I stop dead in my tract
That voice
It shouldnt be here.
Is it really here?
Afraid to hope
afriad to believe
Take a gulp of air
look up.
Am I seing things?
Chillign against a car
a smirk across his face
arms crossed
sunglasses oddly on
HAWK
Big brother Hawk
in all his dark glory
drove 8 hours give or take
just to make sure
I was ok.
Runnig into his arms
I cling to my big brother.
Wrapping them around me
lifting me up in a
big bear hug.
Safe, secure, peace.
In Hawks arms
I always feel
those three things
No matter what.
*"You're safe now Panda,
I'm here for you,
You're not alone."*
He whispers to me
And I know he means every word.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC