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ryn Apr 2015
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.

Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.

A few were wrapped in tints of ******.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.

Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.

The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...

It is beginning...**
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
Black sky with pale light compared to your beauty, Nothing is more right or worth a fight

Your smile looks so bright on this starry night
Tints of blues, wondering how are you?

She begins to stare and laugh into the air
Will my chances be forever there?

Her sparkling eyes as beautiful as a diamond in the sky
Why oh' why is your smile so close yet, so far...

My mouth reaches for her from afar through the distance of the bar

Your smile goes up towards the moonlight,
Your heart goes towards the sun
My thought go towards my ***'
You’ve won
I found a girl in class with an interesting bright smile. I wonder how she can smile like that? Should I ask? (I hope for her sake its reality.)
LexiSully Jan 2016
There's something about the ever-moving sea,
Whose shimmering waves brighten every face,
Whose calming sounds bring joy to every ear that hears

There's something about the forever changing beach,
Whose soft sand holds treasures from the deep blue,
Whose sparkling granules clump together to create vast castles

There's something about the ongoing sky,
Whose blue tints are home to the warm, shining sun,
Whose colors magnify themselves onto the gorgeous sea

So look upon this picture and smile,
Because each figure is a piece of a puzzle,
Forming a complex but brilliant masterpiece.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Infectious laugh,
Untamable anger,
Excitable stories,
Well-hidden anxiety.

Misdirected blame,
Unwarranted shame.

Blue eyes.

Brown hair, red hints; I wish I could have seen it with sun tints.


After work.
In the middle of the night.
In the mornings.
Saturday afternoons.

Rushed calls or
A day’s worth of together.

Nightmares as dreams,
Nights without sleep.
Coffee, drugs, caffeine.


Full of life.

Childlike heart. Easily torn, but never taken apart.
An eye for nature’s beauty.
An eye for art.
One for me, occasionally.

Insecurity. Arrogance.
Compassion. Detachment.
Weak yet enduring.
Unmoving yet learning.

A liar struggling to lie.
A suicide debating to die.

Lustful gaze.
Manipulative ways.

Who were you
And why couldn’t you stay?
Vague, memories.
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
From my earliest remembrance,
to this hour I have maintained,
I've never been contented
with a life of the mundane.

I’ve sought to spend each day in life
in search of curious things,
like art and education,
and the richness that they bring.

I hope to write more poetry
and share my verse in print,
and with my use of written word,
paint art with shades and tints.

I’ve been to many distant lands,
but yet my heart implores,
I seek out farther mysteries,
our planet has in store.

But now my body slows me down,
like most as we grow old,
and though I try, oft I fall short,
of plans I can control.

So, to keep myself companion,
while I will myself to heal,
I’ve formed all my ambitions,
which one day I plan to reach.

Since I was just a little child
I dreamt of life abroad,
in Kenya with the Maasai tribe,
I’ve always been enthralled.

I've fancied a safari,
where the famous five are found,
a land where great giraffes stand tall,
against the setting sun.

But, it is the Land Down Under,
that is first among my plans,
and one day soon I’ll see the coast,
of Sydney once again.

My friends will come to greet me,
though a lifetime I’ve been gone,
and united we’ll share memories,
for the present and beyond.

I’ll go for walks amidst the bush,
and hear the magpie’s tunes,
I’ll stroll beside the ghostly gums;
with nature grow attuned.

I’ll tour along the Southern Coast,
drive past Apostles tall,
and see the sites of Melbourne fair,
with all its cultured draw.

Then off to Kiwi’s northern isle,
with nature’s beauty rare,
fulfilling dreams so long desired,
to glimpse the Mauri’s there.

Waitomo, with its glow worm caves,
and Rotorua’s pools,
with geysers, Eco thermal parks,
and Bay of Islands too.

As I make my way back to the states,
I’ll stop along the way,
to visit Fiji’s turquoise coast,
and snorkel time away.

I’ll learn about the culture,
and partake of Fiji’s fare,
and when I go, I hope to leave,
a part of my heart there.

The coast of California,
on my list of sites to see;
from the Wharf in San Francisco,
to the vineyards by the sea.

I dream of redwoods sure and tall:
the parks and smell of pines,
and stand amid the ancient firs,
lest they pass for all of time.

I plan to visit Florence,
where master artists roamed;
the heart of Tuscan Renaissance,
where da Vinci made his home.

I hope to cruise Amalfi’s coast,
with others at the helm,
to view the brilliance of the sights,
and others in the realm.

While in the South of Italy,
I’ll cross the briny foam,
and walk the hills in Athens,
where ancient Grecians roamed.

I dream of Amazonia,
where man has not destroyed,
and natives live within the wild,
with harmony employed.

The last one on my bucket list,
is one I’d left undone,
when first I made my maiden trip,
and I was twenty-one.

I’d hoped to see the Emerald Isle,
and England’s castles old,
Duke’s palaces and British Tate,
are marvels to behold.

I’ll drive the ring of Kerry,
and the magic Isle of Skye,
to see its Fairy Pools of hues,
and Highland’s brilliance sights.

The lush green grass of Glen Coe,
the Scottish hills await,
would be a lifelong dream fulfilled
when all my trials abate.

With this, my final dream fulfilled,
I see my list complete,
full circle with this Commonwealth,
my restless feet at peace.

But ‘til that time when I am healed,
and I can travel far,
I’ll dream of lands beyond my reach,
and one day touch the stars.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Carter Ginter Mar 2018
I feel like I should write
Though I'm not quite sure what to say
It seems like I feel everything so intensely
Until I try to capture it and it's gone

Words don't seem to work well these days
I'm really not even sure how I'm doing
I feel ready to have a successful week
Yet I also feel heavily disconnected from you

Maybe I am finally accepting my feelings for another
Allowing myself to explore the potential new flame
Maybe I felt held back by your distaste towards her
I realize now that it heavily tints my interactions with her

But it's not about her
And It's not about you
It's honestly about me
And the way I've been living

I have been so consumed by
Our love and all of this polyam drama
That I'm forgetting to live as an actual human
Forgetting that I exist without you too

I know it heavily affects you and
Stresses you out far more than I
So maybe this distance is for you too
Then again, you asked me not to pull away

What else can I do though
When you're consumed by another
And I feel empty and alone too often?
These feelings have led my life far too long already

So I'm stepping up my focus
I am working more on myself again
Because if somehow things get rough
I need to have someone to fall back on

For the first time ever
I've found the healthiest opportunity
The most reliable choice I should've made sooner
And it's me

I am my own foundation
My world exists through my own perception
So in the likely event of some sort of chaos
I am finally ready to catch myself

I will be ok regardless of circumstance
And that's extremely liberating
Najwa Kareem Feb 2017
A backdrop of gorgeous hues, tints, and shades peeking in from afar draw near, I on one side, it on the other, the two of us bidding for a glance at two white doves on center stage.  
Their eyes converging, their glance coinciding, a replica of the simplicity in which they were brought together, a dual recognition ignited by the burning of hearts and the lumination of souls. 
Affectionate hands coupled in an orbit of serenity, her passionately embracing his with a tug of excitement gushing I’m yours, his tenderly and securely supporting hers and in acceptance of gifts of admiration and approval, he is humbled whilst mesmerized by her captivating beauty and elatious smile.  
Two distinct bodies standing still between an air of transparency and vulnerability, they occupying an endearing space serenading to sweet melodies reminiscent of one exclusive life. A bit of haze lingers behind her, her ***** drumming to a cheerful step toward his, there she waits in an affirmative reply of what much he has to offer her, what much he has given her. He consumed by her presence, his face speaking something his mouth cannot. A yearning for each other unspoken, the romantic harmony of a moonstruck light and a synchronized kiss. Their bodies held captive by their souls set free. 
An impartial unfinished hallow sits as a canopy above, gracing its cascading rays on the couples’ faces creating unique shadows on each, one caressing the other in a playfully warm exchange. Overwhelmed by his serenade, emotions overflow and an innocent blush appears, his heart unburdened, skipping to a resounding beat and the words, I found my soulmate. With a slight rise of her jaw, she’s smitten with this king, the delicate skin of her countenance warmed by the glow of his, a pink dusting of her freshwater pearls.  
A love affair unconventional, a duo in adoration, a marriage of crisp airiness and a desire for discovery ringing true, a fondness between man and woman precious like a round cut diamond, weightless as dandelion fuzz blowing in the wind, beaming identical to that of a fluorescent night star, the twosome looking into one soul rejoices intimately at their romantic chemistry and unyielding bond. 
A gracious audience of ink, navy, and Prussian blue, antique and porcelain white, emerald green and scarlet pink in a pose of calm celebration, honors the mister and missus with an exuberant ovation. Entangled in a web of love with a sincerity stringing them in unison, the two in a trance cherishes a declaration so glamorous, a devotion so light.
This poem is dedicated to a soul's light romance of a recently married couple whose display of love moved and touched me.
Graff1980 Sep 2018
every bit;

Seconds sent
to poetry,
a life spent
my humanity,
to see it
slowly recede,
values exchanged
for the pleasures
I gained.

My morality
is a tiny treasure,
a golden globe
the deepest

by the absurdity
of humanity’s
and cruelty
all the tints
and hues of me
melt away
like snow
on a spring day.

All emotions
fade to numbness,
all goodness
goes into
Till, I am no more.
Petals weaved and laced for limbs,
   Infinity intricately at his feet,
Arrows of lobster clawed feathers,
   Shooting lanterns up the street.

Four corners in black,
   Multiplied with moving tints,
Grey flowing into the endless drift,
   Scissors slicing ribbons,
The final trick played by twins.

Redly lit and pink warmth of a bird's statue,
   Emitting frozen tones,
Evermore catering his fortitude,
   Fleetly plucking each leaf,
Each one falling and bending,
   Into smokey cat-eyed gleam.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Felix Sladal Apr 2017
Yawning mouth of the city beckons
Glittering jagged teeth tearing into
Passing souls
Walking on slick black tounges
Sand beaten breath fogs windowed eyes
The beast we come to love
Even as we live incased in it's cavities
The plaque in the grime of eroding gums

When did you last brush your teeth
Your buildings, starting to turn gray
Your tongue a tad flavorless
Do you grow old, fat, and tired?
Or is that just us?

Changes float on the breeze so subtle
You'd never see them unless you left
People slowly turning to dust
Blowing away
But everything still stands
As if nothing ever happened
We live our lives in nooks and crannies
Ghosts pressed between the glass
Tiptoeing enamel streets

Plush gold chairs and minty fresh
Oh peppermint fresh
Rain trickled saliva slips over your
swinging silk face
Breath, taunting tints of lavender
Your back is straight
Stressed crowsfeet pupils shine
Wake up tomorrow to find today
Your eyes are brown but green
Your mouth is wide but tight
Your grin not as cheap as the others

Everyone starts to bleed together
All traits the same
So very different
You weren't drinking mint
Nor lavender
Freeze frame in memory
Pick and choose what we see today
Who to be yesterday
Next week pickle plum I'll jump through a fire just to feel me, feel you

We're running from something
Day to day
Feels like time, might be ourselves
Your shoulders are curved, the slightest of slouches
Your eyes are oh so green and teeth so straight
Thin lips and a long face
Once opon a time I almost knew you
But not today not ever
Self chained straining towards freedom
But happiness wrinkles you cheeks
Self imprisonment won't bruise the will
Don't listen to me, your far more free than I'll ever be
Whistle to the stars
Shrug your shoulder at life's questions
Look it in the eyes with your peridot irises, tell it you've got this
I wish I know what you were drinking
Rainwater and honey

Your eyes are weary brown
Rosy cheeks blush on bronze
Hair shifts to straw spun gold
You haven't aged but I feel so old
Going places while I stand still
Doesn't feel the reverse though that's the truth, if only in theory
You paint life, I paint paper
I maybe younger but I'm wilting faster.
Is it wrong that I wanted to kiss you
For a millisecond and no more
Atune to a time warp lost in free space

Green eyes Brown
Rigged lines graceful limbs
I'm a overcooked noodle
With a halfcooked plot
And everyone seem so put together
I'll poor the pesto on myself and call
me done.
Eugene OR some time near me birthday 2016
Glory Feb 26
The prism I hide within is not for you to see. You may give me white pearls and pink bouquets but the sunset reds and raging, raining blues I hide, are not gifts to you. You cannot buy my veins, just as I cannot barter for yours. When I lay down beside you or not you but someone else who also said that he loved me, my prism soul will remain a one-sided mirror.

Inside are the colours of me.

Soft blues bleeding,

Into deep reds.

Swirling girly pinks,

Dancing through glowing sun ray yellows

These colours are not silent. They howl and twist to the music of my organs. They clash and fuse their shades. They fashion the most chaotic yet exceptional watercolour upon the canvas of my flesh. Singing art and dancing ombre upon the sinew of my muscles. But the queen of all my colours is green. Not a green of jealousy or green of sickness. This green is bright like Oak trees in Spring. This green is the light Ginkgo tree before it slips into a golden slumber. This green is dark like silver ferns after fresh rainfall. This is the green of my birthplace. It tints my heart. Vines stretching emerald fingers down my trachea, sprouting scarlet blossoms in every spare space. My blood smells of flowers.

So, you see,

The prism hid within me,

Is not for any eyes to see.
Em MacKenzie Apr 21
I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I haven’t known healing, maybe one day I’ll begin,
instead I’ll drown in feeling even though the water left is thin.

So take your worn out excuses
and your words that hold no weight.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting fuses,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
a blaze burning great.

Don’t mind the crying, and pay no mind to the ties,
I know when you’re lying before you even realize they’re lies.
Now a picture has been painted of a world with only one pair of footprints,
a reference that’s been tainted and shaded by the darkest tints.

So change your act just like your handles,
and there’s no morality to debate.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting candles,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
but I’ll still have to wait.

This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
or maybe from Hell,
who can tell, anymore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
it didn’t bleed or swell,
but you know, that it’s sore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
this one is my death knell,
it shattered me down to the core.

I’ve had my heart broken so many times,
that I’m depleted of metaphors and running out of rhymes.

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I’m growing too old each day to never gain a win,
but you know they say nothing gold can stay, maybe next time I’ll stick with tin.

‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
it’s our defined trait and state.
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
cremate and annihilate.
Eloi Feb 4
Baby blue
And posie pinks
Intertwined with orange tints
Fill the heavens
For all to see
But especially
For you and me!

Golden rays that end the day
As the sun sets and travels away
We sit on opposite sides of the earth
Marvelling at gods mighty works

And through the dark days the sunlight thrives
How you’re here with me despite thousands of miles
How this moment is so precious and real
And how I’m always here for you to tell me how you feel.

Tonight we’re under similar skies,
And tonight I bared a beaming smile,
Because I know in this world I am never alone,
For I have you, my safety, my friend, my comfort zone.

Let the orange tones warm you,
And let the pinks fill your cheeks,
Let the blues be in your eyes,
So beautiful and unique.
Let this sky be a sign that we were always meant to meet,
And let this poem be a memory that we can always keep.

Tonight we were under similar skies;
Despite the hundred thousand miles,
Tonight I know we were together at heart,
Tonight I realised,
We’ll never be apart.

Every sunset was made for you.
You are god
A poem for a dear, dear friend. You show me the beauty in the world, and I’m so grateful for you<3
Waynepatrick Nov 2018
Our love is wrapped in tints of gold,from inception till days of old,
Through the greenest of valleys and darkest of alleys,
All in splendor, all in eminence,
My heart at your sight swells,to fast beats it is compelled,
Let us project it to the skies,till the winged seraphs of heaven come to spy on you and i,
Glued to each other's sides,come the highest or lowest tides,
The gush of love vast as trust on each other we cast,
Love,we perceive the fringes of it's way,but ours gets voluminous with each passing day.
LonelyPoet Oct 2018
I wonder. I always wonder. Flickering lights. Auburn skylights. Do you ever think of me? A rush of your presence overtakes my mind. It shocks me and moves me, I can’t make it stop. I want to, but I let it ride. The moments come, they are limited to you, nonetheless, their potency is palpable. What does it look like in there? In that web of lies, of tries and sighs. Hah! It’s possible to find traces inside. Perhaps there’s a moment of me, a brief laughing gesture, a look, a smile.

I keep wondering. If I look at you, do you tremble? My heart runs to my throat when you glance, if only I provoked the same in you. Blue subsides, flashes from above overtake you. Look! Look! They’re there for you. If only you cared to look. Wishing to know
things, all those unknowns you carry.

I can only wonder. Am I there? Somewhere? There’s a little nook right beside your worries, could that be the place you house me in? It’s quiet now. You seldom hear a car rush through. The skies’ glow died out. Sleeping feels impossible. My body needs restoring but my brain is in overdrive. Images flow by and you’re a familiar recipe in their making.

It leaves me to wonder. When do I appear? Nights might not be your demise. Is it during mornings? Adrenaline springs and reaches your mind and boom! There I am.

The sun is beaming. It warms your whole room. Its rays touch your face and you’re up. Continuous wonder I live in. The time our answers aligned, I saw a glimpse of joy in your eyes, it said that in a room full of people your focus was on me, or maybe all your
wonders belong to someone else.

The day flashes by and tints of autumn reflect on your side view mirror. Darkness knocks again. I fall back to enjoy the ever-sparkling lights, wondering if reaching them is more feasible than holding you.
This is all for you but you'll probably never know it.
thomezzz Feb 11
You were all the shades of purple
Violet petals blowing in the wind
Mauve smashed grapes between toes
Plum like bruises on bent backs

You melted into the hues of blue
Cornflower sky vibrant in July
Teal waves bombarding the coast
Navy like jeans with grass stained knees

You faded into the tones of green
Olive leaves on thick trunked trees
Lime frogs hopping on branches
Chartreuse like fresh cut kiwi

You gave into the tints of yellow
Golden sunrises on the horizon
Khaki canvases stretched thin
Canary like lemon drops on tongues

You were all the shades of orange
Tangerine bonfires at midnight
Rusty nails twisted into planks
Amber like dripping honey bee hives

You darkened into all the hues of red
Cherry slick tabletops in a diner
Rosy cheeks flushed from the cold
Pomegranate like bricked suburban houses

You waned into the tones of pink
Magenta cotton candy stuck to lips
Coral reefs blooming on the seafloor
Peach like skin after a day at the beach

You disappeared into the tints of white
Powdery snow on concrete ground
Cream goosebumps on silky thighs
Ivory like teeth through pursed mouths

And in sharp contrast, became black
Obsidian rocks at the volcanic base
Charcoal soot stuck under fingernails
Onyx like the deepest darkest night
sunflower Aug 2018
A place unknown,
a stranger to no-one.
It's new to eyes,
but old in her mind.

In this place,
Sun is beaming,
through the dissolved clouds.
As the last light of day,
tints the sky and the ground.

That day,
like a celestial phenomenon,
moon rises in time of the sun sets.
And for a little while,
they became one.

The moon in half,
spark in her eyes.
Roses in her hands,
they bloomed so beautiful.

A place unknown,
an ethereal place.
Of which she steps on,
too many times.
In deep sleep,
under the starry night.
But for once ㅡ
on that day,
it's real.
For when we always have that one beautiful dream of a beautiful place which stays there for a long time or perhaps, eternity. At night, in my sleep, I always dream of the same place ever since I start dreaming up until now, the place remains the same. It's just amazing how our brain works.

ㅡ n.s
Jordan Bowdren Oct 2018
When the sun flees from the war zone the moon shall illuminate our scars, and help us remind each other that indeed we do glow.

In a field on a sloped hill I thought about my end.
Decades from now this field will bend to bulldozers.
How we suppress the fields freedom for more doors with shallow locks.
More windows with tints so heavy we can barely see the sun.
Publicly dowsing for a purpose.
Amidst my fear, in the middle of my crises. I saw something past the stars.                            And I thought of you
I could see something within the gaps, a bright glow in the nebulas where these stars are born
I bought a telescope and every night after I’d see it.
Millions upon millions of miles away from me. Nothing like I’d ever see
I would cry seeing something this incredible.
Seeing something emblematic of perfection, seeing something so hidden yet so present.
Instead of the hill stands a slide so I rest on the *****
surrounded by families seeking homes their houses full though
I need no microscope to see it now. I know of it’s exact location even as the seasons pass us
I brought that photo of you this time.
You’re gone now but I didn’t cry when I saw your eyes again
Not this time.
Kaeli Hearn Sep 2018
As the air transforms the summer sun into a crisp, chilled orange canvas, the leaves begin to transform.

They grow older as their complexions fade into all the shades of autumn. The clouds begin to overshadow the sun’s gleam, yet it is friendly.

The air shifts – chilled, crisp, breezed. The vibrant tints of red, orange, yellow and brown paint cities, towns and homes.

An eerie, yet cozy fog drips down from the sky and rests upon the mountain tops. The fire begins to burn and crack warming hands and souls alike.

Although the leaves begin to wilt, there is soft beauty in the dying. The crunch of the fallen leaves being changing seasons, moving on and starting afresh.

There is a calm amber, colored, brisk, changing, vivid calmness to Autumn.

As the leaves begin to fall, hearts change, souls soften and eyes get a gleam brighter to welcome this new season.
Arlene Corwin Jan 12
A little bored with myself, and feeling I needed the practice so as not to be stuck in a stagnation of inspiration I wrote: for other poets, becoming-poets and readers of anything:

                  POETRY IS THE MEANS ✍️

Poetry is the means
To viewing thought in new perspectives,
Finding more about the self,
Separating strength from weakness,
Plus from minus.
Each and every poet is
A deus
           ex machina.

Never literal,
A giant symbol
It a sign, it helps refine, define
A person’s true persona,
Things not known before the poem,
And the poet had no notion,
No ability to see
The deep, the silly,
*****-nilly-ness yet miracle of mind,
Its mysteries with tints and hints
Of revelations previously owned
By sages, holy men and masterminds.
Everything the human misses
In the daily-nesses of existence.

Poetry gives everything a gift can give:
Reward a push toward inner riches;
Means to keep reader in stitches;
Better stock of words not least;
Poetry is priest and beast and feast,
Grist for the mill
Of keeping still:
An agency of beauty.
That is poetry.

Poetry Is The Means 1.12.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative; Arlene Nover Corwin

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