Metonymy
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Lies that hurt, Tears that flow
A make-up disguise, with bloodshot eyes
She’ll fake a laugh, and put on a smile
Like a beautiful sun rise in the morning
That's the memory in my head
With clarifying moments.
That's the greatness I have
Unable to forget
From the very first moment we met.
people always told me my body is art,
but i never thought so.
so i tried painting on it,
but the paint is hard to use.
it’s too watery,
I drank the moon
It was blue at noon
My heart was snatched by bloom
I was mad as insanity driven soon
Each rev was mind blown as the moon and noon
Fate
I stood upon the crest of a hill that
Overlooked the city, the lights,
The bridge, the traffic-all mixed in my mind
As I gaze intensely up at the sky.
Slowly and slowly fly the mighty feathers:
the uncanny wrath bearer,
The poacher's prey, the bald bizzare stigmatic cryptic creature,
The ecosystem's majestic role player!
Alone here in the dark.
by Sandrajohnsonj on June 13, 2021. © Sandra Johnson, All rights reserved
Bells.Ring deafeningly.With means of girls and boys.Underneath the original singing.Like bells we were once new and brass.Then reality kicks you in the ass.The metal rusts as you walk from class to class.Subtly the tone turning into sass.As bells
Texas don.g.nutt.59.poem.whos love what love whys love is it love hows love whens love i love the way i am whos love is it whos love it is why could love really be whos love she got she get whos love she gives she has she wants whos love im with w
Amongst all the safe havens
brooding with yoylur presence
could be one of those wondrous places.
Try as you might,
pen to paper,
you may never be a heliotrope.
Right now, there are too many aphids
on your wilting lupine stalk.
How to get away with a run on sentence
instead of sentenced to running errands,
Or, how to run away and get on with life
at the same time, laughing and loathing
You may be dressed in a most elegant shade,
But I know it is merely a facade
because I behold intelligence in your eyes.
Dear who loves me,
Why so far away?
Where I can’t see love
smiling a mile away, in the rain
Love, dancing to the mute
words on the page no body sees.
My dearest sweet, I long for thine hand's touch,
And are the days so distant hence and such
To not permit my hold upon thy form,
But I, with force will bring this curse reform.
I shall remind thee of the beauty kept
I was raised to think my body a temple, treat my body as blessing. Taught by elders that I am testament to truth,told no man should lie on me or with me. I was convinced to believe I am light Luminous and far too bright for glare to be handledTrai
What if you could fly,
soar in the sky with the birds
flying by?
What if you have to leave your family
behind to maybe never
see again?
What if you have to walk
While I was growing up, my mum used to say Be a good boy you'll go to school and come out with a good grade, and I did that, It worked for me.
people are our teachers ,
some close ,
some distant.
moments are our grades ,
life the school ,
and our choices the timing to go in .
sometimes early .
sometimes late .
or just ,
The days when I stop desiring silver and handles
The days when walls come down
The days of speaking without a voice
Are the days that door will be open, once again
The days when no more rivers flow
Dark Eyes meet the worldWith an apathetic glaze;Emotions unreachableOn this particular day. One foot follows the other.Time kept by the clock.Escape the suffocation-Shuffle, stumble, trudge and walk. Robotically write; softly speak, Pen to paper,
If solitude in the blazing sun I earn,
and all I have is writing, I’d burn.
Because from three in the morning to the afternoon
I could bleed the juice of love or war,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
So we all have a chance
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
So dress up look decent .
Try smiling at the dance
"Forever to wander all alone"
What a sad means
First day,
Smell of Axe body spray
hard plastic chairs and pixelated screens
short hair and sneakers,
but no pink or ponytails seen.
Every pair of eyes fixed on me
Marbles on the floor,
Marbles in my head,
Marbles of all colors,
From green to red.
Blue is my brilliance,
Red is my passion,
Green is my joy,
Pink is my passion.
The pen is mightier than the sword. Is it? Is it, really?
