Crimson Red
Crimson Red,
Hatred,
Love,
Sunset,
Beauty,
Setting Night,
Warmth,
Light,
All these and maybe more,
Are shown by Crimson Red,
A color very valiant,
A color that's not dead,
One that brings beauty,
So divine that is,
Warmth to those that touch it,
Hatred in the hearts,
When felt at full blast,
A gleam of sunset,
Setting near,
A setting night,
Bringing light,
Not forgetting, embraced love,
Like one bird, with a dove,
Crimson Red is what's in life,
But not in all areas,
In some, the word doesn't exist,
But here, it's part of life,
Crimson Red, never dead...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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Related quotes
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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Sunset Memory
An old porch swing
Made once for two
Cool night breeze calling
Out to you
Ten thousand memories
Rise above
Still sunset waters
Of our love
But like the warmth
Gives way to night
Our passion dimmed
As fading light
Was our love doomed
To come and pass
One day as fire
One day as ash
Hearts that once shown
Like breaking dawn
Sank to the sea
All feeling gone
Now every night
Creeps in the same
Cold crimson sky
Breathes out your name
Night after night
I’m left to trace
The sunset memory
Of your face
…Jeff Bresee
poem by Jeff Bresee
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Four Colors
I once met a girl named blue
full of color and vivid light
her beauty captured by fluffs of white
Then along came gray
Her angers screams thunder and her wrath falls to earth as a blinding flash
her beauty is both angry and sad
Before I knew it, red and orange had showed up
dressed in sunset, their crimson kiss delivered love
Their beauty, a poem written as rays of light
The last to show up was black
freckled with white, behold her romantic absence of light
her beauty forever cloaked by the uncharted waters of love
Here lies my sky
four colors that have changed my life
their beauty is ever flowing, along with the sands of time
poem by Carlos Patino
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Crimson Amongst The Gold
We watch the burning sky
as the setting sun warms
it just before night falls.
The crimson amongst the gold
where our dream lie
to be awoken in our hearts.
Beyond the horizon
where we always want to be.
We see the world there
as something we have not got.
The life we dream about
we know it lies there.
In the night, we reach out to touch the stars
knowing that if we touch them
all our wishes and dreams
will one day come true
in our tomorrow’s quest
down life’s road.
We keep walking to our sunset
never knowing when destiny
will take us to our dreams.
That paradise just beyond our imagination
where all things are possible
and some day will be.
10 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Crimson Tide
I wake up in the morning
I see the bright sunshine
O Lord, let be so good
A day to reckon with
I wish the day would speed by
To be with you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
Here comes the sunset
Here comes my own sunshine
O Lord let be so good
My day I've reckoned with
I wish the night would slow down
Never to leave you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
poem by Kolabomi Adeko
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Crimson Sunset Sea
Across a crimson sunset sea,
I search for my lost love
within a passing dream.
The maiden who made my heart flutter
when we first met
and then vanished in a wisp of mist.
Now I seek her
where dreams fall asleep
there across the crimson sunset sea
on the other side of paradise
where dreamt dreams are stored.
poem by David Harris
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The Minimalist
Crimson Is The Color.
'Where?
I don't see it.'
The fingerprint.
The artist has signed this painting,
Or lack of it shown...
With just his thumbprint.
'How did you know,
Crimson Is The Color...
Was the title of this 'piece'?
I see absolutely nothing.'
Look at the thumbprint.
What color is it?
They call him 'The Minimalist'.
'But...
Where is the other part of the frame?
Only half of it appears on the portrait.
Or whatever this 'blank' canvas is called.'
That's why he is called, The Minimalist.
You have to find the meaning within yourself.
'At 'that' price?
I can buy a brand new car.'
That's nothing.
I invested in one of his prized portraits.
Entitled, 'Blocked Nose'.
You should see it.
I have it hanging over my mantle.
Right above the fireplace.
'And you can't get one poetry reading?
And this guy is making a fortune?
You need a manager.'
Yeah.
You might be right.
But what I do isn't considered 'art'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Messenger Rose
If you have seen a richer glow,
Pray, tell me where your roses blow!
Look! coral-leaved! and -- mark these spots
Red staining red in crimson clots,
Like a sweet lip bitten through
In a pique. There, where that hue
Is spilt in drops, some fairy thing
Hath gashed the azure of its wing,
Or thence, perhaps, this very morn,
Plucked the splinters of a thorn.
Rose! I make thy bliss my care!
In my lady's dusky hair
Thou shalt burn this coming night,
With even a richer crimson light.
To requite me thou shalt tell --
What I might not say as well --
How I love her; how, in brief,
On a certain crimson leaf
In my bosom, is a debt
Writ in deeper crimson yet.
If she wonder what it be --
But she'll guess it, I foresee --
Tell her that I date it, pray,
From the first sweet night in May.
poem by Henry Timrod
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Beauty
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,
Is that which pleases us, says Kant,
Without a thought of interest or advantage.
I used to watch men when they spoke of beauty
And measure their enthusiasm. One
An old man, seeing a ( ) setting sun,
Praised it ( ) a certain sense of duty
To the calm evening and his time of life.
I know another man that never says a Beauty
But of a horse; ( )
Men seldom speak of beauty, beauty as such,
Not even lovers think about it much.
Women of course consider it for hours
In mirrors; ( )
A shrapnel ball -
Just where the wet skin glistened when he swam -
Like a fully-opened sea-anemone.
We both said 'What a beauty! What a beauty, lad'
I knew that in that flower he saw a hope
Of living on, and seeing again the roses of his home.
Beauty is that which pleases and delights,
Not bringing personal advantage - Kant.
But later on I heard
A canker worked into that crimson flower
And that he sank with it
And laid it with the anemones off Dover.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Beauty: [Notes for an unfinished poem]
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,
Is that which pleases us, says Kant,
Without a thought of interest or advantage.
I used to watch men when they spoke of beauty
And measure their enthusiasm. One
An old man, seeing a ( ) setting sun,
Praised it ( ) a certain sense of duty
To the calm evening and his time of life.
I know another man that never says a Beauty
But of a horse; ( )
Men seldom speak of beauty, beauty as such,
Not even lovers think about it much.
Women of course consider it for hours
In mirrors; ( )
A shrapnel ball -
Just where the wet skin glistened when he swam -
Like a fully-opened sea-anemone.
We both said 'What a beauty! What a beauty, lad'
I knew that in that flower he saw a hope
Of living on, and seeing again the roses of his home.
Beauty is that which pleases and delights,
Not bringing personal advantage - Kant.
But later on I heard
A canker worked into that crimson flower
And that he sank with it
And laid it with the anemones off Dover.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Unworthy Light
The aphotic Depths of this Crimson body,
hold no essence deemed illumination,
Shadow upon shadow fight within this bloody body,
At a loss for such brightness, at a loss for such humanity,
I've been consumed by my demons,
Every granule of light fades as it decends,
falling into the blank slate, that is Crimson.
poem by Crimson Love
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Reunion Of Blood (Acrostic)
Resurrect this corpse with the shade of dying Crimson
Enter each dropp at the will of my own forsaken hand
Undo nothing for blood shall reunite us two
Nothing stands in the way of what Crimson wants
Indefinite screams I hear from the grave, Beckon me
Onto the bloody alter
Never shall this crimson vein close.
Often I shall reminisce on my sacrificial love,
For you my dear, hold what simple Crimson cannot.
Bathe in my words My veins unwillingly leak,
Let all of me course within your body
Ounce by ounce our blood collides
Often messy, watch this bloody tide,
Death shall visit one last time, to join in this reunion of Blood.
poem by Crimson Love
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Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace.
Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace
poem by Chidiebere Franklin
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Ugly Sunset
It wouldn't rise to become the sun
Afraid of shinning it's true beauty
Hiding in the horizon about to cause night
Bringing fear and causing evil to come out
So this once beautiful sunset that was the world to me turned ugly
Look at it! What do you see that is so beautiful about this ugly sunset
Is it how it causes fright to parents
Or how slowly it goes down with everyone's happiness like sucking the life out of you like a black hole
You ugly sunset with your beautiful shades of color and your reflection on the ocean, why are you hiding from beauty? we were once the world me and you but now look at you, your a mess.
Now all you are is one ugly sunset sucking up all the beauty this world has.
So keep hiding in the horizon ugly sunset!
But in the end you'll regret not showing you true beauty.
poem by Celia Hinojosa
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All Of A Piece
ALL of a piece were the sunset light,
The rose in the tree, and the golden girl;
Beauty, the weaver, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the eyes of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Setting the blood in his veins a-swirl;
Ah, the rose, and the girl, its piece-mate!
Ah, the sunset of rose and pearl!
All of a piece are the faded light,
The rose in the mire and the girl grown old;
Beauty, the trickster, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the soul of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Then to sicken and grow grave-cold;
Fragile wear is the cloth of Beauty —
Rose and sunset and girl of gold!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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The Warmth Of The Sun
What good is the dawn
That grows into day
The sunset at night
Or living this way
For I have the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
Within me at night
(within me at night)
The love of my life
She left me one day
I cried when she said
I dont feel the same way
Still I have the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
Within me tonight
(within me tonight)
Ill dreams of her arms
And though theyre not real
Just like shes still there
The way that I feel
I loved like the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
It wont ever die
(it wont ever die)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crimson Thunder
We are the voices in the dark
Inside the fire we are the
Eternal Spark that will guide the way
We are the stars up in sky
We gather winds so you can fly
We are the light when youre sleeping
All your dreams can come true
Where do we go?
Were just a heartbeat away
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
We will stay by your side
Let our voices be there to guide you
We are forces in the rain
Inside your heart we are the
unending answer to all your fears
So take a step towards the light
The crimson sky fullfills the night
The revelation is near
All your dreams can come true
Where do we go?
Were just a heartbeat away
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
We will stay by your side
Let our voices be there to guide you
Solo: Stefan
All your dreams can come true
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes, My God Is Everywhere
My Lord is everywhere
every petal of flower has been touched by his hand
every blow of wind has been softened by his heartbeats
every my tear has been moistened by his drops
every my heartbeat has been pleasured by his love
The beauty of flowers the kiss of God's lips
the beauty of grass the touch of God's hands
the beauty of sea the rain of God's tears
the beauty of mountain the power of God'mystery
Every my suffer has been cuddled by his blood
every my pain has been taken by his veins
every my cold night has been drowned into his warmth
every my lost has been straightened by his paths
The beauty of sunrise the purity of God's light
the beauty of sunset the red of God's blood
the beauty of hope the green of God's buds
the beauty of trust the God's belief in me
Yes, my God is everyhwere
poem by Ata Augustyn
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I see America, not in the setting sun of a black night of despair ahead of us, I see America in the crimson light of a rising sun fresh from the burning, creative hand of God. I see great days ahead, great days possible to men and women of will and vision.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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