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"yellowest" poems
Laburnum drooped its yellowest Dull before me, sadly displayed Benevolence turned jaundice, yellowish Jealousy's desire, flowering sprites made Yellow-eyed-monsters, distrust, umbrage His look, laburnum, fallen eaves Sun captured smote, yellow-eyed Uttering to himself, "Mine," and "Me" He went on as such, yes, fellow cried What I saw, coveting, all yellow-eyed
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
Yellow
Tiger Lily, Glowing bright Soft velvety petals Swaying violently Against the storm Swirling winds Entangle her soul Struggles to be free Its wrath subsides And the flower stands tall Tiger Lily Brightest of them all Wearing the yellowest of bonnets The greenest of gowns She curtsies up and down And turns to the sun Petals tainted wild gold Amongst murky swamps Tiger Lily Shining ever so bright
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
Tiger Lily
I'm getting into that rut again   the same one as before Day after day of nothing The empty hallways full of people One second of laughter And then blank... Even thinking about the wrong memories, colours me a deep shade of melancholy blue A strict routine of self loathing has done me no good And that most yellowest of adventures is over that glint of sun I almost reached has been worse than lost Tossed away under tidal waves of midnight ocean in a dusty glass sphere
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
In a Goldfish bowl (14b)
The hair falls, blonde and long: A cherished doll. Birdsong Echoes through the dale, as Twilight casts its gaze and vixens wail. Sparks driven out as spikes driven in Places gone, things untold; people she's been. An openness: the silky vapour Evaporates, yet cannot escape her Cocoa eyes, wide as the day they met. He sees her yet. He hears her yet. Though she says no words, casts a glance Over her shoulder, flying askance Ringlets quiver in the breeze, Yet in the shadow of the trees, No man appears. And yet she hears A pheasant's cry: the yellowest canary Its song a desperate scream, contrary Muntjacs dance with target tails, But the ***** ever hidden, wails.
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
That girl
You are the yellowest sunflower The shine you bring Will not **** pairs of eyes Unlike any other You glow in the night Yellow under the blinking diamonds Orange when the fiery ball goes down An actual beauty That is what you are
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Sunflower
She sways in the wind like blooming trees with flowers of white and leaves of green. Her hair is more golden than the yellowest bees the most beautiful thing to have ever been seen. We held hands in the dark of the night And bodies when the day turned light my mind and soul wander without her. With lips softer than babies skin and eyes bluer than the oceans waves. Her shoulder was colder than frozen tin we searched ourselves deeper than caves. I lost her in the springtime air one more brush with her skin so fair my mind and soul wander without her. She turned her back on what we knew and turned her face a whole new way. She twisted her mind, threw herself askew leaving without words to say. She tossed love on the curb to wilt grinding what was left to silt my mind and soul wander without her.
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
Without her
There was a man of pilgrim's might Whose feet would hound with real respite His head hung low, but thoughts gave flight To smiles he flashed out through the night And on he came to seeped well And burned with petal thirsting smell He cupped his hand to pool to tell Of washed brows in walking hell And then he saw a girl with hair Of yellowest sunlight's bounty share And told his heart its meal is there The meadow grasseed blew nowhere She cooled his brow with gentle hand She ushered back the gourd's demand And though the dirt gave way to land No borders had her goodness banned He woke beneath the willow tree In cradle of arms' ecstasy And she joined him to join the free With daffodils afore their glee Yet still they walk, but tell me this, What is the road, but wartime bliss? What is the sea without the hiss Of beauty's scent and midnight's kiss?
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
Starving Thirst
The Marlboro Man, And I, had a plan: To ***** out desire, With a flick of the hand. The squarest of jaws (And the yellowest teeth!) And no one would see, What lie just beneath. Yeah, I miss that old man, With his interstate stare, He taught me to weather (whether?) This life...without even a care.
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
The Marlboro Man
I bury letters like dead bodies Beneath the trees I could never climb About how endless jokes can mask the most depressed The insecure are best dressed And schizophrenic genes in youth suppress My very own shadow whispers eventual death I bury letters like dead bodies One day when the glass bottles are dry In the yellowest sun I'll dig up my old letters for fun With words pointing at victims like a loaded gun Young paper and ink left there for one I bury letters like dead bodies
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Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
Letters
My whole life I had scoffed at boys gifting girls flowers The expensive ones, the kind they saved up for I thought it was incredibly immature to pay for pretty dead things When the world is in the process of destruction And the economy is constantly in inflation It could’ve paid for a lot of things— A nice meal or even AirPods It was until I got a girl of my own Smiling like she’s the sun Walking around and tugging me along I suddenly had the urge to get her a 50-dollar bouquet Or those fancy ones in a box shipped from Dubai Or a giant teddy bear—Yes! A giant teddy bear to fill a corner of her room on top of her pile of trash Suddenly she deserves pretty dead things Hold onto them as they slowly wilt I want her to walk around owning a piece of Earth It could’ve been an animal or a plant Shiny gems or a worm But she deserves the brightest crop among the weeds The purplest shade nature can make The pinkest rose The yellowest sunflower I’m not even one to write a poem either But somehow I now belong in the stupid group of hopeless romantics plucking pretty things from Earth Despite inflation and pragmatism I guess it says a lot about us humans Sentimental *****
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Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 4:05 AM UTC
The day I believed in flowers
He crammed it all into her mouth bad execution he somehow twisted his head she swallowed the entire sum they were quite pleased with the outcome though the fun who took it was quite the yellowest of blonde's
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Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 3:01 PM UTC
Icarus blames the sun and mother the inlaws