Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"vivd" poems
A Beast of a man in appearance and soul, A silhouette of her memories chilling him cold, Sitting alone with his thoughts hating time, Screaming inside trying to shatter his mind, Immune to pain from his love of Roses, The beautiful thorns struck vivd poses, His love was a curse, She laid it herself, A disease, a sickness, It shattered his health, It occured at first sight of this beauty, This Belle, Time had been spent she was treating him well, His eyes wet with tears, His cold heart growing warm, Foreshadowing revealed the oncoming storm, She had to go away with a promise of return, He gave her a ring and his voice had been stern, He brushed her cheek gently and said very clear "Remember my love, Im always right here" After being home and revisitng her life, She decided to stay, an unsuspected knife, With the last of his soul he picked a final rose, In the dark of his castle where the sun never rose, Be it magic or hope the rose never dies, Never to be witnessed by another Belles eyes, He locked it away, Hidden without fail, You say youve heard this? An old Fairytale? I guess it is close. Similar at least, Look closely my friend.. I am the Beast.
0
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
La Belle et la Bete
Wake up to reality Seems like I’ve got an affinity For playing with your center of gravity Can I paint your mental walls red? Hop on a plane just to find myself in your bed Possible.... Some might even say probable But only if you bow down To worship my invisible crown Misled, misread but still a thoroughbred Undeniably ready to be ridden There are no misgivings You want vivd? Tie me up in ribbons Enjoy my only submission © 2014 Peach
0
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
I've Got X's, Give Me O's
I need the night time like a entertainment ****** reaches for the remote. The airwaves become quickly clogged with HD Grade *** Crack. Whereas i...relish in the freed up air time , empty roads , routes , biological networks... For miles around............................................... only a few souls dj their late night slots.. emanate their energetic pulsations with the precision that night time calls for, don’t worry the drunks fall under the radar.. Delta wave walking... i need the night time.. for the forgiving nature of loose shades of shadows and the seams between imaginary and vivd hallucinations blur for a while... some may say that neither of them exist in the plane of relative ‘normal’ thinking ... but i’d say imagination is the hardest one to fathom. Vivid hallucinations make up our senses.
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:50 PM UTC
vivid hallucinations
I can't but think of you When those old familiar songs air; As familiar as the friends we shared, Songs we once grew old to, That played as you ironed hair. Tensions grew as the volume raised, As your parents worried upstairs. Songs of innocence, songs of experience, Were on the radio, And you'd find a station In Daddy's car As we drove back to school. Lyrics I didn't know I knew After all these years; No photo could make you More vivd than now; Songs that immortalize Those moments of our youth. You tanning in the sand, Transistor craddled in an alabaster hand; The smell of beach on you. Lips parted as you whispered words To the ****** burning in me. Then you dance close, Your hair a symphony... Some songs I hear Are too much to bear Beneath a firefly night, When nothing came between us, But the notes of songs we liked.
0
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Songs of Innocence and Experience
Maybe the reason she flaunts herself is not because she's confident, but because her hourglass figure fits nicely in his hands. She feels secure when his fingers move slowly from her ribs to her hips, like the way wine racks keep glass bottles from smashing to the ground. She's fragile and transparent, but he fills her with feeling, and for that moment, she doesn't feel empty; she's vivd and colourful, supplying liveliness. Maybe she flaunts herself because eyes turn glassy and watery, and at least she can influence something. Maybe she just hopes that one day he'll hold her as tightly as he does that glass of wine. (NJ2014) All Rights Reserved.
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
wine glass.
maybe it will never change maybe we will still be flowers on the side of the road still no place to call home but still flowing in our veins is the wildness and adventure that we’ve always known to be we would be gleaming with vivd colors. still trying to survive the droughts the rains the storms the heat the wind the bitter cold when winter comes along, and someone doesn’t stop to pick you next and we will be left to wilt forgotten something once so beautiful and fragile now lifeless and limp. r. Powell
0
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 9:50 PM UTC
wild flowers
What if your nightmare Is my reality If you didnt know would you care Heres what I see If you dreamt, You couldn't see your parents, They may see you, But must leave you be. You have post traumatic stress. And every night you can relive The moment they died Right before your eyes. The fire engulfs them And you here there cries Would you to awaken, Knowing it was there true demise There no should to cry on not even one near What would you do then I know if it wasn't you You'd bully the one Who lives the dream The one who awakens With his own screams This is what I live This is why I cry The others, they torment me Because I never have dry eyes Its been three years Since I've truely smiled I am a shell Who simply takes space Til that vivd day I cut off my own face
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 4:30 PM UTC
**Your Nightmare, My Life**
decending into madness Its radaiting through my body Capturing my heart and soul what was once pure light is now pure darkness. My eyes a once vivd blue now tinted a cold black I feel it spreading coating me in a heavy web I feel it calling to me Wanting me for itself it calls to me Like a man to his lover Begging me whispering tantalizing promises making my body crave and want it The darkness within me It calls to me It wants me And I want it .
0
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
The Darkness, It Calls To Me
The world is ash now The colors are less vivd a greyscale comparatively my body parts work again i can hear whereas with you i feel like i am underwater time is moving slowly once more it moves so quickly with you where i begin to wonder if you were ever here at all I want to to trust you but i don't
0
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC
Ash
what about the future? what about the past? well, what about the present? right now there’s so much going on, like how i can feel the vibration of the mower in the distance, the little scratchy nubs all over my body. i’m trying to see from behind the scratches on my glasses but my eyes are so drawn to the 9000 shades of color that are so pervasive and sensitive. and your talking is hummed and hushed, like your morals, because you fail to practice what you preach, and what i’m figuring out in the present is that i’m doing the same exact thing to myself maybe slower, now, it seems, but somehow even quicker. and the clutches of that Mazda clutch we crashed when we were fourteen are crouching to my level, trying to say hello but all i hear are bubbles in the pond where your little sister tried to drown herself. the spiraling candy slide has me nauseous and ready to spew chunks all over mom’s new ornaments, and the plane changes again, the doctor’s office and white gloves reaching inside my mouth to shut off my anxiety, my perplexity, to show me the worm inside that’s making this happen. but all he pulled out was my brain, entirely whole, and i snatched it from his hands and smothered my hunger with such a satisfying snack, fingers included!                            what the **** did i just do? Was it that Demon called Panic that, personified as moi, took me on that train without my permission?                                                      i really will never know what it is that i have                that is so special enough to be able to see all 9000 colors in the spectrum. they’re so vivd, it scares me, honestly,                                and in the dark i feel fine, because there’s nothing to see, but, in the light, for real this time, i wish somebody would take out my eyeballs,              and walk me like a dog for the rest of my life.
0
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
untitled
what about the future? what about the past? well, what about the present? right now there’s so much going on, like how i can feel the vibration of the mower in the distance, the little scratchy nubs all over my body. i’m trying to see from behind the scratches on my glasses but my eyes are so drawn to the 9000 shades of color that are so pervasive and sensitive. and your talking is hummed and hushed, like your morals, because you fail to practice what you preach, and what i’m figuring out in the present is that i’m doing the same exact thing to myself maybe slower, now, it seems, but somehow even quicker. and the clutches of that Mazda clutch we crashed when we were fourteen are crouching to my level, trying to say hello but all i hear are bubbles in the pond where your little sister tried to drown herself. the spiraling candy slide has me nauseous and ready to spew chunks all over mom’s new ornaments, and the plane changes again, the doctor’s office and white gloves reaching inside my mouth to shut off my anxiety, my perplexity, to show me the worm inside that’s making this happen. but all he pulled out was my brain, entirely whole, and i snatched it from his hands and smothered my hunger with such a satisfying snack, fingers included!                            what the **** did i just do? Was it that Demon called Panic that, personified as moi, took me on that train without my permission?                                                      i really will never know what it is that i have                that is so special enough to be able to see all 9000 colors in the spectrum. they’re so vivd, it scares me, honestly,                                and in the dark i feel fine, because there’s nothing to see, but, in the light, for real this time, i wish somebody would take out my eyeballs,              and walk me like a dog for the rest of my life.
Continue reading...
46