Magenta
Magenta
Who sent her?
To dance in crimson
Through my dreams
To cast a spell of silver streams
To wash my soul.
Magenta
Who lent her?
Lips of ice on fire
Song of angel choir.
To blow my mind with whisper soft
Her smile
That held the stars aloft
Across an endless sky
To disappear like sigh
Loves' distant wave goodbye.
Magenta
The scent her
- Flaming flower brings
In desperate hour clings
To fondest memories wings.
As she blazes in the night
Phases out of sight.
Leaving dyed the crimson sky.
Tell me, my Magenta why
Did you appear
Then leave so soon
You killed my fear
But took the moon.
Copyright kevin east.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Angel Fly
love falled apart
dreams passed me by
hopes went away
desperate....
longing to be in your way
angel fly
angel cry
angel say good bye
angel wanna kiss your lips untill her die
poem by Magenta Cyans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Magenta
Longing for winter
Longing for cold
Bikeride through the snow
Blinded by darkness
Summer flows to the cemetery slow
Pink versus black
Black versus magenta
This picture of you
Just melts in my agenda
While seasons change you know
Yes, the season change you know
With the flow
Days just shorten
Days just glow
This fire keeps us warm
While this storm will uncover
Our secret place called
The cemetary dawn
Pink versus black
Black versus magenta
This picture of you
Just melts in my agenda
While seasons change you know
Yes, season change you know
( look left )
With the flow
( look down )
( look up )
( look right )
( youre camouflaged by a wall of blue )
( and turn the world magenta ... )
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magenta Agenda
The magenta agenda embedded upon a silk prison is a mirror illuminating synaesthesias.
Depth imperative, a lever of emotion eminence. For what is a prison? Doth it make me in sync with my sins? Mere society’s ills... See not the irony, hear not the irony, feel not the irony for in confinement with I the sinned comes forth spiritual compassion, material detachment; alleviation in passion. Yet I feel still of nothing, for I put myself in everything but something.
The magenta agenda is incense to the eyes intriguing dimensions in its absence of time. It impedes deep, moonstruck, capricious droplets rapturously stagnant, romantic in its flourish as it blossoms intense, rained from the beige walls the mind melted on its silky delicate milky skin.
She is the endless plane of love the virtue of the rain. In the midst of the perfume sprinkle of the twinkle of her tears splashed off those beige cheeks blushed as it breathes cherry blossoms from the ink of a maroon eye.
The magenta agenda is a perceptional impressionist to nurture the pleasure in her arms. The lakes envisioned within the portals shimmering inadvertently. It is a mystic glimmer in a lake of no liquid yet in shimmers silver embraced it inhales the light, slithered yet it is not dry. As a silk shell reflective but of not the physical entity that light entails. She is the aura not imprisoned.
The magenta agenda is the milonga of the angel; the impossible, the forever. She cries from her fingertips and between the molten skies. The leaves of her eyes are her body in the living of that which dies. She is an angel but not of those in the conception of the heavens which inherited from the hells in its birth of the earth wells.
She gazes and in her paining an array casts jade, painting the sky's walls, the essence of heaven. In beauty she rests frozen kissed upon a realm untouched from earth, heaven and hell. Ethereal as she is brought to lie in the shallow basin undermined of the beauty of the fruit of indecision’s compassion filled in the sapphire bleeding of anaesthesia between love and reason. The icy walls rain the canvas of the skies those eyes be the paw dancing on the lights.
I yearn for you to be happy but then you’ll be different.
Doth embed your last tear, draw the scarlet of now your ashen lips to your heart so shall it beat once more the earth may spin once more... the magenta agenda is.
poem by Ori Livson
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Colours Of A Heartbreak
Memories in yellows and blues.
Bathe us in their soothing hues.
Tapping on windows of our mind.
Like soft rain winter leaves behind.
Those traffic lights
Within my head.
Turn amber.
Danger, heartbreak ahead.
Green meadows of promise and peace.
We closed our eyes
And souls did release,
Pure white grace
Of Turtle dove
With violet scent of brand new love.
Who sent her?
Magenta
Naked by the lake.
She returns
As my heart prepares to break.
Invisible burns
Indelible scars.
As bluest earth turns
I watch the stars.
Now I'm out of my head.
Blushing sun is setting red.
Oh darling please
Just come to bed.
Sweet spangled elation
Our last supernova.
Rainbows creation
Means someone's storm is over.
I leave such passionate verse unread.
To grieve in colour of heartbreak ahead.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowered fairies dance
Magenta, pink and yellow -
Four o' clocks in bloom.
haiku by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Takes Away My Sorrow
Upon the mossy grass she lays
Dreaming like the sun
We see the butterflies on the meadow
Hear the crickets by the woods
Evening brings magenta with violet
The moon basks like a lover
Leaves sigh in the soft breeze
Now the stars shine with fate
Without your love I fade into the strange
The Milky Way smiles like a warm world
A campfire glows like paradise
The coals of love burning like my heart
Pine trees are mystical witnesses
We sit on an old log holding hands
Darling can you hear the elves laugh?
Voices like candles of angels
By the river time is a gentle rose
Life is my friend not my foe
Rain has left the summer vibrant
Green radiance amidst the blue heaven
Her eyes bring me assurance
Her touch tender as sweet hope
The moment blossoms like a flower
Her kiss like a moon on fire
She takes away my sorrow
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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That Sunday
Sunlight kissed her hair
As she stood to shimmer in white.
Like an angel
Waiting for the night
That she could share
With a crescent moon.
To watch the stars swoon
To a fragrant morning light.
And I burned
In the embers of her smile
And yearned
As she disappeared in style
On a train to nowhere
That Sunday.
Moonbeams bathed her eyes of fire
When we kissed
I swear I heard a choir
Fill my soul
With lullabyes of rock and roll.
As we lay in our bed
Of just roses and dreams
Where our hearts were first wed
By sweet babbling streams.
When i awoke
She left just her perfume
And a kiss
That was lost
In swirled violet plume.
That Sunday.
Promise and embrace
Never warn of goodbyes
And when the night hides my face
My memory cries.
That physical ache
That lonliness brings
Stands in the wake
Of where lost hope clings.
As my heart starts to break
As it waits in the wings.
To enjoy our last fun day
That Sunday.
poem by Kevin East
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King For A Day
Blinded by the magenta spotlight
Stands a disposable commodity
Dont a high price ticket make a star shine so bright
A taste of immortality
And the critics tey call you the new boy wonder
And you know just how to make a young girl cry
The more you feed them the more they hunger
As you watch the money multiply
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
You got the whole damn world spinning round your middle finger
Hey! shoot a little skeet with the president
And your mother loves you more for every dollar you bring her
And yor latest wife is worth every cent
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
Blinded by the magenta spotlight
Stands a manufactured fantasy
Dont a high price ticket make a star
Shine so bright
And the people love you endlessly
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be?
King ... for a day
How does it feel to be?
How does it feel to be ... king
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dolphins Of Grace
dolphins swimming gracefully
to their homes
beyond the sea
as they swim
away from shore
far beyond
our eyes and more
poem by Magenta Hart
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An Aura about the Sun
There is an aura about the sun
On this late winter's day as
Snow falls from castles in the sky-
Invisible clouds shall not obliterate the sun-
In my most startled moment,
I would look down from
My stance upon a purple mountain peak-
Purple transforms to magenta as
A ray of hope shines
Downward and mysteriously about-
I see reflections of copper- hued branches in the creek below-
Upon trees seemingly awakening from a passionate night amidst the darkness-
In the bitter coldness of the season's end-
Branches so like arms reaching towards the sky-
Decorated with snow and bending in the wind as
Would ballerina dancers upon a stage of oblivion-
Not knowing what the next moment in time shall bring?
There is an aura about the sun and
The snow keeps falling-
Crocuses trying to hide their blossoms from the late winter's chill-
Yesterday the sun rose and cast its shadows about the mountainsides-
Purple mountains and magenta reflections in the creek in all of its
Crystalline clarity have never looked so striking
Even stones polished by rushing water rapids- and grasses sparkle in the dew-
I have found my place in this world so vast, and so majestic- yet so ethereal,
Alone with the trees and nowhere to hide-
No need to hide because I have escaped reality-
In the real world mountains have never been purple-hued and
Reflections never magenta-crocuses never emerge and blossom on
A cold winder's twilight-
There is an aura about the sun and I listen to the voices
Chanting baritone melodies inside the fortress of my mind-
Others may say that this is none but a delusion, although
I do not recognize their disparagement -
I have lost myself in a world of fearlessness and
I find nothing intimidating in this land of my dreams-
It has been said that dreams often never come true but
I have carried my dreams inside of my mind to the peak of
Purple mountains glowing beneath the moon at midnight and
The sun as it rises at daybreak- nobody shall unlock the door to my madness
My dream has come true and I shall never escape-
I have painted a picture inside of my mind and here in my solitude
I have escaped the pain of veracity as
I chant my own special melodies, though in silence.
There is an aura about the sun and I am proud to say it shines light
Upon the essence of my dreams, illuminating a path before me
Upon which I can walk -I can walk further and further from all that threatens-
Where there is no place to hide and no need to hide
As the snow keeps falling from invisible clouds and
Fantasy has never appeared so magnificently regal….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Fading Of The Day
God in his usual strokes
splashing the colors
from indigo to magenta
to light blue to saffron
paints another day in the
lifetime of
the black canvass of our lives.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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By Sleight Of Mother Nature's Hand
In autumn's cordial limpid zephyr
Beneath cyan skies and amber sunlight
Love's magenta magic writes the day in pluperfect cursive
As epic fantasies blend effortlessly into
A misty collaboration of dreams fulfilled
poem by Michael Fischer
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Murder in white
She wore white
She smiled at me
That night
With a sparkle in her eye
Like a reflecting light
I couldn’t stop myself…
That night
One dance, one chance to make things right
That night
One look of her in white
That night
As she turned
She whispers in my ear…
Please don’t fear please don’t deny our love tonight
I could not forgive her, for what she had done…
I couldn’t forgive her that night
The cold hard feeling of a concealed weapon in my pocket
I felt the urge to fight
That night
As she lead the way
Up the stairs in flight
That night
I could not forgive her
I could not be led into this evil
I never wanted to fight
That night… but she looked so good wearing white
I made a big mistake that night!
poem by Magenta Jones
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My Dream
Populated by a swarm of
Warrior ants,
Life can be a dangerous ride,
Hailstones are thrown from the
Messiah’s inner- fury as
Fire is rekindled beneath my feet, ignited by the demons of my past.
Gazing from the eyes of an abandoned child,
Masked by tears of frustration,
And the apprehension of what the future could bring,
I perceive this world to be an unwelcome place.
I would venture one step outside the
Realm of disillusionment,
Although only to follow a path of a different and
Brighter star, and hopefully this path would be,
Though narrow,
More smoothly paved.
To discover mountains in the shadows of skies,
Magenta in their hues and
Rivers of scintillating topaz-blue
Would be my fondest and utmost desire,
With the hope that I would no longer have to
Cross bridges leading to places I cannot walk without stumbling, or
Where I could not dwell in peace and solitude-
Waters illuminated by a light from a different source
That would wash away those painful recollections of my past,
In my dreams I would hope to find.
Fields of wild violets and yellow peace-rose gardens
So enchanting would be to discover,
Free from obstacles as they could be.
Every step I take is one in trepidation, and
Peace and serenity becomes overpowered by an excess of cacophony,
Swarms of threatening people and that
Never abating death fear.
My song though dolorous, is none but melodious,
For it is a part of me and would never harm me, or
Touch another’s soul in a dangerous way, as
On this planet, here, I walk alone.
On my solitary walk through life
My shadow is cast behind me, and
I hope to drown any remaining tears in a tributary of disenchantment,
That in all of my hopes and dreams
Would be washed into a sea of composure-
Life, love, serenity and the mystery of God’s gifts to humanity,
If they could only quench the
Anger that torments my very essence would be my lifelong aspiration.
I would
Climb those majestic mountains, magenta hued,
And swim that river topaz in its crystalline clarity-and
They would drown every menacing hailstone that
Falls from above,
Life may cease to be a peril and a threat, and to
Follow a path blazed by the illumination of a different star,
I could find who that abandoned child inside me truly is and
This light would dry those tears of frustration and
Perhaps I would find a future for myself,
Even if I never reach that mountaintop or have to
Swim across that river-
I would find my home with saints and angels and
Abandon the demons of my past and even the few remaining in my present - forever,
As I walk that narrow but smoothly paved path ahead.
Although I stand beneath the shade of a tree of apprehension
In my hand I hold a candle illuminated by the flame of hope, and as
I watch my reflection drift about in that river,
I see it slowly disappear, as the river flows into a sea of optimism and tranquility…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coloured Dreams
In coloured dreams
We will chase our tears away.
In crimson and creams
A sunlit bouquet
Sprayed with Heaven's scent.
Lent
By a promise of blue moon.
Where memories are spun
Within a lovers swoon.
As we escape
All wordly themes.
Standing on the cape
Of indigo beams.
In coloured dreams
We will kiss
With the freedom
Of a dove
Flown from deepest abyss.
And our smiles
Will fill the canvas
Of an open sky.
Glittering stars
That will never dry
Or run.
Hanging in the gallery of midnight sun.
In coloured dreams
We will float
Like a concerto
Across a sleeping lake.
On ethereal wings
Of golden opaque.
As a moonbeam sings
For lonely hearts
About to break.
The soothing hues
Of the artist's loving hand.
Yellows and blues
That a summer breeze
Had fanned
Over the ocean.
Where mariners of love
Lay marooned.
That harlequin of rhyme
To heal their wound.
In coloured dreams
We meet in clouds
To harmonise
With distant crowds
Of sunrise
And lost prayers.
Now lit like purple flares.
Into blackest night.
Burning down
To candlelight
Of a far away love.
To look above
And watch
Rainbows dance
Their random lights
Lit by chance,
That spins
With ballerina grace.
As happiness paints the face
Of every tear stained clown.
A fanfare of colours
Reigning crown.
On sunset
Waiting in the frown
Of twilight.
May coloured dreams ignite
In lovers hearts.
Before dawn
Parts with just a sigh.
As promises will fly.
poem by Kevin East
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I Don't Feel Like It
The sky is blue and a streak of
Magenta hovers beneath the early morning’s sun as
It rises over the treetops-
The air is cool, crisp and invigorating,
Blowing as a gentle breeze through the open crack
In my living room window, inviting me to walk outside-
Today I feel no motivation-
Today I fear the outside world
Today I cannot face-
Inside where all I can hear is the ticking of the wall clock and
The sound of eerie silence interrupting
The voices inside of my mind that wish me ill fate-
Today is just another day- I know today is almost magical,
There is so much outside that seems to be summoning- though
Today I cannot venture outward.
I hear the gentle morning breeze rustling the barren branches upon the trees-
I can recall my mother’s tearful voice and her frequently spoken words
“I don’t feel like it.”
Today I don’t feel like walking amongst nature’s bounty and
As my tears are falling down my flushed cheeks-
I remember my mother and how she didn’t care-
She didn’t care about whether she lived or died and
She didn’t care if the sun was shining or hiding behind clouds of misfortune-
And how I so believed she did not care about me?
The sky is blue in the early morning as
A magenta cloud hovers above the rising sun-
I have been told to try and understand my mother’s plight and
To bring her back inside my memory and wish her well-
My mother is dead and gone and
I cannot bring her back in any way – too much time has passed and
The voices inside of my mind keep telling me- she did not care.
I cannot bring her back- even if she were to become an angel in heaven-
No matter if the sky is blue on an inviting winter day-
I cannot venture outside and I cannot forgive my mother-
Some say I need to try and forgive her before the rain takes over and
Washes away even memories of all of good times-
All I can remember are her words as I repeat them-
“I don’t feel like it.”
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Way Or Another
sorrow comes with love
one way or another
sorrow will always be there
bind with love that i have
it's a package
bliss & grief are tied up together
united
it will not go anywhere
giving so much pain
but i'm fine
i'm trying to be just fine
this way i choose
leaving trace of pain
in its every step
sorrow comes with love
one way or another
but not to you
you don't deserve that
you'll find your heaven
you'll find your angel
you'll be fine
i promise you'll be just fine
poem by Magenta Cyans
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Crimson Insane
Crimson Love,
who can this be,
Not I,
not you,
nor anybody,
look to crimson so enviously,
smile and grin,
look what you could have been,
Look at crimson now
what do you see?
Falling apart,
a crimson mind shackled yet free,
I'm losing it..... realities touch,
I'm going insane, this life is to much,
Forget all this... but memories remain,
I laugh at the humor, that is crimson insane.
poem by Crimson Love
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Christmas Eve.
Our tears have frozen and lie on silver avenue with snowflake peace
And i will think of your lamplit smile when my faith in love does cease
But as moon lights the snowman choir and lovers kiss
In the flames of my fire
I dream whether i should laugh or grieve
And i ache alone this Christmas Eve.
Love such a fragrant flower
But she and her promise ride the rooftops and are gone
And distant sleigh bells that only children hear
Drift past stars where our light once shone
And my prayer that rises like a kite
Will plead i can hold you just for tonight
As fate continues to dance and weave
I just watch the cars on Christmas Eve.
Mistresses and husbands
Lovers and wives
Drive to their honey
Bees to their hives.
I walk from the shops as rush hour dies
And i kiss your cheek
And you squeeze my hand
Through frosted park
Past the bandstand
Tomorrow never came
As i waited in the cold
You never said goodbye or rang me
Now we're apart and growing old.
I still hear you singing in your kitchen
You wrote 'I love you' on my album sleeve
And you'll hear our song to remind you
And we'll cry when it's Christmas Eve.
poem by Kevin East
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Watching Aurora
The stillness of the night now breaks
As the roosters announce, Aurora wakes
In magical splendor unfolds her garments
As deep blue turns to magenta's raiment
Then softly sheer lavender lace the sky
Too magnificent to be drank by the eye
Undressing, she then reveals her hues
Of bright red, and orange, then yellow on blue
Each day that dawns is a spectacular sight
Watching Aurora is a wonderful delight.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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