"sunkist" poems
Remember
The last time We were
in Dallas together
That place where We met
We loved and We lived
and where We were
so very alive in Our time
There in the beautiful city
Resplendent and Refined
Where we spent Our moments
in love in life
and the quiet vibrant
Love of Life
Remember
That last time
We went back home
to Dallas
On that day we awoke
in the early morning
When I asked if you
were ready to leave
You stepped gracefully
to embrace me
You said We had time
Do you think We might...
please
You knowing surely
without a doubt
you never needed
to plead
We made love
like We knew
that We meant it
We made love
that isn't made fast
We made love
in the joys
of pleasing each other
A love that would always
however still last
We soon then
were on our way
on a beautiful bright
late Fall day
To see someone
back home
You there then
golden and glorious
Happy and smiling
Sipping on a Sunkist
citrus soda
We put the car on cruise
and We sailed away
Slipping quickly from
the rustic western country
To merge swiftly
into the flow of
the magnificent city
Toward the inbound
expressway
Remember the majestic
towering skyscrapers
as we made the loop
around downtown
The red flying Pegasus
still flying on
as the emblem
of Our hometown
Reunion Tower
and the magic of light
The Top of the Dome Club
at the top of the world
Such wonderful times
at the top of Our life
Remember Our date there
when We were yet still young
that lasted the afternoon
Throughout the evening and
all that beautiful night long
For You then my Lady
A perfect Chardonnay wine
For me Johnny Walker
on the rocks
All to perfectly bind
the heart and mind
To a wondrous moment
Overswept yet fixed in time
You by my side as
I always had hoped
Like that very last time
We were in Dallas
together back home
We made our stop
to meet with a doctor friend
He knew what I could never
believe and what I never
wanted to have had
to comprehend
You were gone by measures
You were gone by degree
You were going
and near hopelessly
gone unto me
Yet I still hoped
and believed
The last time
We went back home
to Dallas together again
But still on the way back
from Our bright shining city
to what would become
the darkest of desolations
You still were happy
or so it seemed
You were bright and beautiful
like in a perfect dream
We stopped at a restaurant
I ate a lot...but You did not
You stepped away for a minute
and then I met you at the car
When We got back
to that place
where together
We last lived
We embraced and
You said again...
please
Surely You never
would have ever
needed to plead
We first lay there
together a moment
to recover Our strength
Entwined together
You and me
Then We there
were immersed within
that precious moment
When all of beautiful
intimate art is
expressed in life
And all of love
becomes perfectly
tragic art
There is where
I felt the trickle
of Your tears
as they fell down
onto my chest
And then there
upon my heart
After that last time
We were back
home in Dallas
together.
Remember Dallas.
We always
will have Dallas.
-R.
7/17/17
-LA
-4MAR
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
It's all so quiet
Silent within its hidden slumber
And dreams a beautiful dream which guides and cools the Windrush on the water.
Its dream song flows through my patterns
Atoms wave like sunkist fields of wheat
So peaceful is its essence
It is silent when it speaks.
Black Mind
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
It’s more than friendship for us. We’re closer than that. we never needed the same blood to call each other brothers. We bleed similar ideas and thoughts, like telepathy is our only way to communicate. We’re linked in ways most will never know, See, we’re cut from a different cloth. In our ragged robes we feel like kings because we know we have the greatest jester at our sides. Mind that this is a love poem, love for my friend, my brother, my phone call at 1 am, chatting about everything and anything. I never walked down streets with such confidence before. his are my guard rail, stopping me from slippery streets and inattentive eyes. I don’t think we can count the times we’ve defined our code. It’s not a code of arms, we don’t need to arm ourselves with each other at our sides. I’ve gone from the boy I was to a man I want to be, thanks to him. I don’t think he’ll ever understand how much he’s done for me. It’s been such roller coaster ride, dating best friends and losing loves, we stuck by each other, Spartan warriors would be proud. He’s like a spider web. Hidden in small spaces of serenity. He catches anything that we need to survive and destroys anything that could harm me. serendipitously our friendship evolved like Pikachu and Squirtile. We have that Pokemon type of bond, I’ll choose you, every time. No one will understand when I say, Saving him from SunKist liquids is our defining “broment.” See, in that moment having a bottle rise to his lips, I knew that he needed me to tell him the dangers that lie ahead, as he’s have done for me countless time. Now, It could have been the time you told me you hated me in middle school, or the time you tried to save me from a fire breathing dragon. He became the one person I can count on, in a world where a clock ticks too quickly. It’s you and me against the world, They don’t know what they got themselves into. We are soldiers, brothers at battle, we start wars with words because our poetic voices are needed in the struggles of a lost generation. But, we don’t need to take up arms, we pick pens and write the words that no one has the heart to say. Our words prove that we never needed the same blood to call each other brothers. Because it’s more than friendship for us. We’re closer than that.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 4:13 PM UTC
the sunset
even enamors
the clouds...
see?
they blush pink
when he comes
to meet
the horizon
sinking below
in
ecstasy.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 2:18 PM UTC
Layer upon layer upon layer, it is too cold for skin
and my sunkist days pull away, while I reach and grab for a hand to hold.
Missouri is a surprise party for someone who hates surprises.
Missouri is a cruel joke, handing you the ripe-to-the-very-second
sweetness of a strawberry summer and snatching it away at the
last second to watch you fall to your knees and beg for mercy from the
biting wind and your stinging lips, no chapstick to be found.
Layer upon layer, sweater under coat,
socks over socks under boots made of steel.
If there is one upside to this brutal chill, if there is
it would be peeling back this extra skin, this shield of
fabric, to reveal steaming pink underneath.
It would be that
cold weather
makes ***
even better.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 2:08 PM UTC
Eleven thousand
three hundred
sixty one miles away
in a place I’ve never been,
you are thinking
of all the places
you have never been
or haven’t been,
some for seasons,
some for years.
A Paris pomegranate sunrise
from the Pont des Arts,
bright colours shimmying
at the pulse of romance.
The blood cell rush of Shibuya,
Tokyo at night among
a river of strange symbols,
blinking TV screens.
Prague dredged in frost,
feet-chatter on cobbles
past the Jan Hus memorial
under a cool periwinkle sky.
Glossy tulips in Bilbao,
metallic curves,
trill of syllables
by the teal Nervión.
I think of you, far away,
same planet, different spot,
the future washing towards us
full of scrambled images
and white noise,
a trickle of hope at your toes,
through my screen.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
I’ve got better things to do
Than not drink orange soda
My winter is long enough
Without that summer in a bottle
It’s the taste of my youth
That magic orange soda
Fanta, Crush, or Sunkist
They all take me there
Carbonated sweet sun
This icy orange soda
Every sip is a portal in time
Take me back, take me back
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 1:58 PM UTC
Neanderthal grunts,scratches and stands
Shades his eyes in salutary pose.
New daylight on the horizon.The fisherman sits on sand mending nets to cast into rippling sun kissed tide.
The man in valley gathers This flock in shade of green shade sunkist hills where rolling blankets sweet grass abounds.
Ancient Orient glimmers like polished stone.Stands watch across vast open plains momentum grows while the blazing orb labours to climb to do it's work.
Battle lines drawn as thousands stand fixed in gleaming light. Swords of bronze and chariots poised to beckon perdition. The rising sun as witness.
High above the stricken crowd stands the priest in wondrous plumage a crimson river runs down the stone. He sands alone a dagger in his right hand the still beating heart in left.
The Sun god requires.
The ground spins silently below us. The sky rolls by in concert.
The golden god he whispers to all, arises swiftly and then he falls to sleep.
Dictates our every breath..morsel that man eats.
Bow.
Worshipping none.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
Home
Is where the heart is
Where warm arms embrace me
When glorious food filled the table
With beautiful wallpapers giving it life
Home is not only shelter
But it has all the love everyone needs
Comfy beds and childhood toys
Holding all the memories filled with wonders
Stepping out of my home
My eyes glow to the sight of
Sunkist skies on a Monday evening
Puffy clouds roam along with pigeons and larks
Clean pavement with nothing but dry leaves dancing
Old and new cars and an outgrown mango tree
I enjoyed every scent around my home.
When the day falls into darkness,
Shimmering stars shine upon me.
As if, I was the only one admiring their beauty
Walking beneath them is an honor
With every light steps,
The stars and moon watch over me,
Never leaving my side...like family
Now that I am no longer home,
Happiness has disappeared
Creases on my forehead increase
Being a vulnerable person out in the world
I became an easy prey, target
To be the one to absorb all the negativity
Possessed by city-born humans
Love is not around anymore,
Stars and moon shy away from the skies
Hidden behind the grey crowd
Filling humans' lungs
And causing disease
Adding on sadness and despair
I miss home.
Where love originally came from.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 7:50 AM UTC
Let us run to the beach,
Through the night's navel, lichenous
Inflated by escape and something new
For just the rush / the sensation
Like bodies aloft from kiss
the brevity of laughter
Of youth / full / of mischief.
We'll leave the night a peeking eye
while in the meditation of surfers
Early sparring with willful morning
Waves / puppets of gravity & moon
So wax upon fingers of great monsoons
Should the tides ride high it's might
and fly to god's white laughter too soon
At least we've glean the world between
With wings of sunkist sailing heights
Dreams unfurled in gold morning light
Hurl toward the awe of love for life
Completely free as one with chi,
Let this be an ode, an unscripted history
a mandarin and blue backdrop scene
And I will be perched on the shore
Shakespeare's heartfelt pen / pining ardor
Adoring the balconies and open doors
of such romances / daring devils for more
Tho' a grain of sand to everything
Now just a set of eyes
Audience for the world and skies
Belisimo !
I applaud as fish and man fly
Nod as the sun sets the stars to night
As in twilight to midnight
As the moon smiles
Bravo!
Through the belly of the unseen
We have crawled
Now we are in the poetry of awe
Watch onlooker as the stage curtains
Paints it's strokes
Blood rose clouds and deep
Blues from burning
Pinks
Magic show in a wink
This deserves a standing ovation
I lift both hands high
This must be love
I cannot deny
Some kind of wonder
Full of infinite and muse
All epic and classic
Watched without shoes...
In all these things
Time and motion
(In a seashell)
Listen to the ocean.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC
Caution taken (lathering
exposed epidermis with sun screen)
against harmful innocuous
rich (Times New Roman)
12 font ask tick sun yet sen sate)
refulgent radiant balm
unequivocal panacea medicinal luxuriant calm
on par with a old
sister wives tale remedy me late mom,
would magically construe
to alleviate home sickness qualm
post pledge initiation invocation befriending
Jason the Argonauts and Major Tom
dizzyingly zipping thru space
in search of the golden fleece,
(which acquisition
ranked as a no brainer)
which recollection, sans above exploit flashed
(at greased lightening speed) this peace
full May afternoon, a pitch perfect spring day,
one adequately oxygenated
air supply crowded house
legendary fete of the rising son momentarily
sol limb lee flared concluding with reverberating
(though decades elapsed
since fortuitous galactic heralded
world wide web panegyric
broadcast cosmos wide),
then with just as quick
memorialized recollection
prominently recalled,
said remembrance as things past
vis a vis denouement across Universe
with **** lifelong (black hole sun hopping)
capping achievement did surcease.
Ah...such blinding realistic provocation sparked
via pure imagination
upon one earthly terrestrial beast
Sunkist soaking raiment sequestered
within corner nook decreased
with onset of dusk, a mind bending
dreamy experience least
expected while nonchalantly fantasies take flight
basking (with robins)
in an angulated nook sky height
upon premises of Highland
Manor Apartment out of sight
from the buzzer (I may as well be
a million miles away),
thus poetic justice end trite.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
A bottle of opened sunkist soda,
A couple sips missing,
Wincing knowing there's chocolate in the drawr.
Wishing the nightstand would disapear,
Praying the guilt will go away.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC