Colores Secundarios: Naranja
horrible tasting gum, lindsey lohan’s
wretched lipstick choice, jack-o-lanterns,
fat tabby cats (with stripes) , monarch
butterflies, chester cheetah (with spots) ,
nicki minaj sporting her orange weave,
johnny rotten seemingly having washed
his head in orange sewage, orange
creamsickle, sweet potato fries, guitar
amplifier company, a basketball,
pumpkin spice votive candles, the
color of a “high” supposed terrorist-
attack level in the US circa bush &
now phased out (4/27/11) , cattleya
aurantiaca, navels & blood oranges
(amidst 10 zillion other kinds) .
poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Prince Of Orange
Look at these hands
Spokes of the sun God delay you, spray you
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Brass robinettes
Trumpet and drums for the taking, baking
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
All the food he steals is all right
Far the tall and gentle poplar
Causing fanfare to those listening
Now
Drape round your head
Mischief and secrets in green kelt, all hell
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Look at these lands (--- --- ---)
Youll get no books for your dinner
Sinner
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Orange Chgicken
Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.
You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.
ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.
It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.
Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!
Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murder is a Colorful Thing
Red is the color of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Orange is the color of her stained shirt because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Yellow is the color of her shirt before it was stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Green is the color of her stomach as I cut her tummy open through her once yellow shirt stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Blue is the color of the happy sky while I cut into the green of her tummy through her once yellow shirt now stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Violet is the color of my swollen face from crying under the blue happy sky while I cut into the green of her tummy through her once yellow shirt now stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Murder is a colorful thing...
poem by Tamara Buengener
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red And Orange
Ther's a red house,
Inside there's an orange door.
Beside that there's a red carpet,
On top of an orange floor.
There's a red table,
Below an orange ceiling.
Upstairs there's a red bed,
Inside an orange room.
There's a couple of red people sleeping soundly,
Next door two orange ones too.
Outside there's a red truck,
No one knows what to do.
I don't see the proble,
Why don't you leave us all alone.
But now I see the red more clearly,
And I know what's done is done.
And I'll float away with the cloudy smoke,
Before the inevertable happens and I start to choke.
Good bye red house,
So long orange door.
I'm going for a long sleep noe,
Six feet under the floor.
To His Coy One
SEEST thou yon smiling Orange?
Upon the tree still hangs it;
Already March bath vanish'd,
And new-born flow'rs are shooting.
I draw nigh to the tree then,
And there I say: Oh Orange,
Thou ripe and juicy Orange,
Thou sweet and luscious Orange,
I shake the tree, I shake it,
Oh fall into my lap!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Three Oranges
first time my father overheard me listening to
this bit of music he asked me,
"what is it?"
"it's called Love For Three Oranges,"
I informed him.
"boy," he said, "that's getting it
cheap."
he meant sex.
listening to it
I always imagined three oranges
sitting there,
you know how orange they can
get,
so mightily orange.
maybe Prokofiev had meant
what my father
thought.
if so, I preferred it the
other way
the most horrible thing
I could think of
was part of me being
what ejaculated out of the
end of his
stupid penis.
I will never forgive him
for that,
his trick that I am stuck
with,
I find no nobility in
parenthood.
I say kill the Father
before he makes more
such as
I.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Why I Am Not A Painter
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.
poem by Frank O'Hara
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An Orange Painting! ! !
An orange photograph
painted on the sky
a canvas far and high
my thought then flies
as wind it blows
to a day many years ago
I was a boy, a child
dreams were big and wild
it was a usual evening
I lied on the grass daydreaming
I saw the sky was empty
no twilight I perceived
Then I raised my hand
to the sky my fingers went
I drew a line on the sky
so lengthy and so high
I depicted conscientiously
the twilight I'd like to see
As my point finger moved
an orange color bloomed
An orange twilight was formed,
an empty sky was gone.
Long from that day I age already
older today I might have been
It's been nine years passed
I don't even recall where it was
Years have passed from that day,
many things change too,
If many have changed,
I might have changed too.
But when today I see the twilight,
a familiar thought flashes bright
and a question appears to me,
so warmly and so vividly
'Is the orange color in the sky today,
is the same twilight I've drawn that day? '
poem by Kite Remedy
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Fly home
Fly home there will be shine
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be sweet
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be caring
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be lovely
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be comfort
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be fortune
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be future
with bright orange light
Fly home Fly home to your nest
with bright orange light
poem by See Fee Lee
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
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Orange Leaf
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
Orange leaf passing by
Riding over the snow.
Past the oak tree
The old house is silent
Orange leaf
Fly with the wind
And snow
Fly past the frozen lake
Fish sleeping beneath
Its crystal surface
Orange leaf
fly to the sea
And wait
To be picked up
And carried off
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
poem by Jesse love
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My Grandpa Orange Garden
From my grandpa Orange Garden
You can saw green orange leaf
all over the place
it fruits had started ripening
He frequently late going home
My grandma hit “Kentongan ”)
For going home soonly
But my grandpa workinghard
Forgotten to eat and drink, and going home
When he going home he saw the roof falling down
And black cloud seen in the sky
Quickly my grandfather took the ladder
Up to the roof and care the roof
For bettering their room
The rain fall from the sky
My grandpa walking down from teh roof
sleppy, and never wake up again
my grandma cried till morning
forgotten the orange fruit harvest
she embrace her husband slept strectched on the ground
in the meeting room
where children and grandchildren are gathering
to day you couldn’t seen the green leaf orange
the fresh orange leave the smeel in my reminiscences
the garden leave high and dry
no grandpa touch down at
the leafs through,
it stalks to let dryness
dryness and to wither
the dush fly everywhere
the house and garden is empty
only ghosts dwell in that house
I still remember
I fomerly run there
Among the orange stem trees
Under the orange leaf shady
His Only one message:
Don’t pick those oranges before ripe
Jakarta,6/29/2005
poem by Prasetya Utama
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My Single Orange Rose
Here is my prose,
All based on a single orange rose,
Grave grass springing,
Church hyms their singing,
Blood stains clinging,
On my single orange rose,
No soul is laughing,
Deaths hands are clapping,
Coffin case trapping,
On my single orange rose,
Trees are branching,
My cold blank eyes are trancing,
The life cycle of death is dancing,
On my single orange rose,
I picked my final wish,
On deaths lips I kissed,
My long life I missed,
All because of that single orange rose,
COPYRIGHT 2008 BEN SPARACO POEMS
poem by Ben Sparaco
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The Ballad Of Skip Wiley
Hes a man on a mission
Wild as a ricochet
Picture if you can when the everglades ran
From the gulf coast to biscayne bay
Hes gonna give it back to the gators
Lock the tourists up in theme parks and zoos
He says join me for lunch at the reptiles brunch
Where the barometer soup is you
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can shoplift all day at blockbuster
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Spoken:
Thats unthinkable in the state of florida
What would the chamber of commerce say
This man is sick
Eah
There were crimes of epic proportions
All part of skip wileys crusade
Tourists were cackin
And tourists were packin
While he and skink cooled there heels in the shade
Then came the citrus sensation
Welcome to the revolution he said
With a pirates persona
He snatched the gridiron madonna
And the day groovers called for his head
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can rag on the miami dolphins
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No, no you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Spoken:
Well skips caper it kinda backfired
Got the orange juice barons rather upset
In the light of bad moves these manhunts ensued
Skip easily slipped through the net
He was last seen atop of a mangrove
Perched like a wounded osprey
He was not meant to last
He belongs to the past
And I hope he gets there one day
Hes crazy and dangerous
But who else can you trust
Hes the outlaw in all of us
The environmental terrorist (terrorist)
Ou can mess with that mouse in orlando
Jilt a tourist in st. augustine
Ou can shoplift your days at blockbuster
But you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
No you cant steal the orange bowl queen
Thats right
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed
William and James are turned to clay
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Davis
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
AIR--_The Protestant Boys._
I.
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore--
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray--
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
II.
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed--
William and James are turned to clay--
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay--
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
III.
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed--
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
IV.
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray--
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray--
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Osborne Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Had a Paintbrush
If I had a paintbrush, I'd paint my world orange.
Orange for the Destruction and Purity of Fire;
For the Power of the Sun;
For the Patience and Innocence of a Child;
For the careful Balance between the Material and Spiritual;
For the Happiness and Goodness in the World;
For Light and the Truth.
Orange for Life.
And among all the millions of shades of orange,
I would paint a splash of light green.
Green for Hope.
poem by Zoe Guillory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The revolution has been dubbed The Orange Revolution, orange being the campaign color of Viktor Yushchenko. The demonstrators say they are tired of living under a corrupt government.
quote by Bob Schaffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Land
Anthony newley, leslie bricusse
Red is the color of a lot of lollipops,
Orange is any orange on a tree.
Yellows the color of a bag of lemon drops,
Green is a piece of seaweed in the sea.
Blue is the color of the sky in summertime
Indigo is a siamese cats eyes.
Violets the color of a flowr in wintertime.
These are the colors of the rainbow skies.
There is a beautiful land
Where all your dreams come true;
Its all tied up in a rainbow,
All shiny and new;
But its not easy to find
No matter what you do.
Its not on top of a mountain
Or beneath the deep blue sea
Or in london zoo or in timbuktoo,
Or in timbuckthree.
And if you travelled the world
From china to peru,
Theres no beautiful land on the chart.
An explorer could not begin
To discover its origin
For the beautiful land is in your heart.
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meaning Of The Rainbow
The rainbow
Red because the blood I see because of you.
Purple from my heart
Orange your favorite color
Green the color of your eyes
Yellow the color of your hair
Blue the color I feel every night
This is the color of my rainbow
The meaning of the rainbow
You use to point at them
And this is what it reminds me of now
when I see the rainbow
I cut when I see red
I let you bruised my heart so my heart is purple
When I see orange I feel hatred
I think green and I want to puke on you
I see blue and start to cry
I see yellow and think about you
So I restart with red over and over again
poem by Baybay Tucker
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