David And She
She rubbed the bows rick on earth
From between the crevices of sandy bricks
Where the purple flowers would stick in deep
Black crow would tell her the time not a minute
Up and down as the sun ray in gold would stream
Inside to wake him up in the month of holy rituals
From convoluted desires of libido her aroma of youth
Just budding for the mystery in her head as her bosom
Would hang down to let her know of ripeness
First of the fruit of the season in tenderness
Beneath the small holes of windows would she
For the effect on the body of David as sculpted
Of dreams the moment she steals in real
She her enzymes of chemistry tingling vitals
No one knows what is happening in that dawn
There were more birds than were the usual
The old lady like dried tree bark
Looked for her she reminded of her youth
The pull of the bodies from David and the she
Unbraided her hair to let loose the odor
Only birds could smell or the old lady
Or the David that was to sculpt himself
Not from marble but from earth of crevices
From where she had been picking purple orange
Neither yellow butterflies some with other color
The drops from masculinity not stone in the palm
For a soft touch of a healing hand of the maiden
The woods of the window when were broken
And when chewed it tasted like that girl
From: The Groove
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Choose Your Color
I will paint the walls blue
Blue is calm, blue is power
Blue is the color of tranquility
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the ceiling green
Green is healthy, green is peace
Green makes time move faster
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the floor red
Red is fire, red is danger
Red is the symbol of passion
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the sky purple
Purple is sad, purple is gloomy
Purple is the color of romance
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the tree black
Black is fear, black is death
Black is the symbol of grief
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the street yellow
Yellow is happy, yellow is fresh
Yellow is the color of sunshine
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the fence orange
orange is wisdom, orange is wealth
Orange is the color of success
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint everything white
White is good, white is pure
White is the color of faith
Have you seen my colors yet?
(August 16th,2006)
poem by Christopher G. Turner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Color Purple
a friend of mine is obsessed with purple
she says it's a royal color
fits for kings and queens
and she feels like a princess
on her purple hair
her purple dress
and purple bra and
purple shoes
the walls of her house are painted
the railings of the stairs
the windows
the doors are all purple now
the flowers in her garden
and the leaves of her trees
the grass
all purple too
her speech is purple too
the movies she watch are all in the shade of purple
her car turned purple too
royal color that is what she says
i tell her bluntly, ' You are boring, purple! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Purple Could Heal You
If Purple Could Heal You
By Tameka Callaway
One day, you told me that Purple is your favorite color.
I wish that purple can heal you
If purple could heal you, I would give purple flowers everyday
in a purple vase that will make your day
I would wear purple lip stick so I come leave kisses on you face
Wish there was purple days and purple nights
If only purple could heal you, I will give a purple glass of purple kool aid with purple ice so you would have a purple tong
I would go to the end of the world to find you the perfect purple yarn so I could make you a purple body suit from head to toe
Oh how I would give you a purple world
But for now, I just give you a purple poem
I love you
poem by Tameka Callaway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Light New Colour
An old man
welcomes
his four day old
grandson
white stillness pure gold purple wonder gold strength pink joy
pink infinity navy blue now strong indigo blue light blue fountain
the green first reason endless yellow compassionate orange
royal red
single red free orange free yellow
green depth as clear as crystal all attractive light blue
strong indigo blue strong navy blue pink wishes gold compassion
compassionate purple gold of golds of creativity
who is quiet
and naturally very small and delicate
red inspirer orange giver yellow help dazzling green
light blue of the delicate with indigo blue eyes navy blue good
with pink kind eyes golden hair
golden complexion purple complexion
gold warmth of white space
white of whites
gold truth purple mentor funny gold pink friend of children
navy blue of nature indigo blue knowledge light blue song of nature
green creation yellow in senses orange guide red way
white and gold love
of all purple knowledge gold presence pink in thunder and storms
navy blue pleasure indigo blue beauty light blue lines
all attractive green of yellow stirring music of orange red refuge
clear red orange orange yellow yellow with green giving hands
of green light blue truth indigo blue essence navy blue sparkle
pink with gold purple guide gold here here white
His feet are curled
His fingers as small as tiny magic wands
His eyes large
Some skin is peeling off his small face
Everything is perfectly formed
white
is the sun with penetrating vision purple and golden constant winner
gold reach of all pink infinite navy blue indigo blue knowledge
light blue care
deep green in greens dedicated to yellow
orange truth
red peace
This perfect body was in his mother only a week ago
thinks the old man
He places his hand on the boys stomach
red glory orange beauty yellow
of green and light blue evenings handsome indigo blue
intelligent navy blue pink of pinks of gold golds purple purple
gold friend openness formless
white and gold
prevailing purple efficient purple purple origin purple form
gold and permanent pink navy blue belief indigo blue blue
dense green yellow orange red friend red
The boy almost gasps at this touch
He yawns
His eyes remain anxiously focused on the window
eager to understand the Australian light
poem by Bhupen Thakker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aroma Of Her Virginity
The aroma of her virginity
Was so strong
That the goddess
Of the virgins
In whose blessings
She was grooming
And the steaming youth
In the woods
And the goddess of perfumes
A friend of goddess of virginity
In secrete design
Asked the goddess
Of fresh breeze
To carry the smell
To the god of war
And the god of war
Riding his horse
Without knowing
Where the fresh breeze
Was taking him
The horse
Galloping like mad
In total submission
To her steaming youth
And her virginity
Lay his head down
And the goddess of cold breeze
Took her out
Total nude
And followed by
“Yellow butterflies”
Jumped the horse back
The god of war
And now god of manhood
And masculinity
The aphrodisiac
An outrageous thunder
Frantic movements
Making wonders
And dance of all gods
And goddesses
The horse on rapid gallop
Butterflies following
The heads and hearts of the two
Now in fusion in heavens
The bodies and the souls
Under the command of one god
The god of love
God of every one
The virginity lost
To the man for eternal existence
A thunder in the sky
And soft heavy rain
Pouring water
For the earth has now
And the goddess of fertility
Quenched its thirst
And the heavy rain
Watering seeds
For the next harvest
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Planet Micron
A spaceship lands on purple ground
Planet ‘Micron’ it has found
Purple rock and purple trees
People with purple knees
But only one with super power,
That liked to sing in a purple shower,
A laughing caped defeater
Of the one horned back sliding
purple people eater.
From towering buildings in purple brick
Comes the caped defeater with a chick
Steps onto soft purple grass
Orange birds fly away on mass...
The orange feathered birds fly beak to beak,
While on the purple grass the wind blows,
The two super hero’s dance cheek to cheek,
As the purple planets two moons glows.
Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scent of Irises
A faint, sickening scent of irises
Persists all morning. Here in a jar on the table
A fine proud spike of purple irises
Rising above the class-room litter, makes me unable
To see the class’s lifted and bended faces
Save in a broken pattern, amid purple and gold and sable.
I can smell the gorgeous bog-end, in its breathless
Dazzle of may-blobs, when the marigold glare overcast you
With fire on your cheeks and your brow and your chin as you dipped
Your face in the marigold bunch, to touch and contrast you,
Your own dark mouth with the bridal faint lady-smocks,
Dissolved on the golden sorcery you should not outlast.
You amid the bog-end’s yellow incantation,
You sitting in the cowslips of the meadow above,
Me, your shadow on the bog-flame, flowery may-blobs,
Me full length in the cowslips, muttering you love;
You, your soul like a lady-smock, lost, evanescent,
You with your face all rich, like the sheen of a dove.
You are always asking, do I remember, remember
The butter-cup bog-end where the flowers rose up
And kindled you over deep with a cast of gold?
You ask again, do the healing days close up
The open darkness which then drew us in,
The dark which then drank up our brimming cup.
You upon the dry, dead beech-leaves, in the fire of night
Burnt like a sacrifice; you invisible;
Only the fire of darkness, and the scent of you!
—And yes, thank God, it still is possible
The healing days shall close the darkness up
Wherein we fainted like a smoke or dew.
Like vapour, dew, or poison. Now, thank God,
The fire of night is gone, and your face is ash
Indistinguishable on the grey, chill day;
The night had burst us out, at last the good
Dark fire burns on untroubled, without clash
Of you upon the dead leaves saying me Yea.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Unique Melody
The flowers work beautifully, small yellow
ones forming the background for a soft purple
touch, the golden leaves and orange-yellow
explosions on the right, calming my eye
Green bottles a perfect accompaniment to
the little colour symphony being played by
my lovely flowers, the tune soothing, the
sweet piccolo notes in yellow on the left
The noble purple violin, Violetta singing in
La Traviata, the contrabass and wooden
instruments on the right, no deep notes,
no disharmony, helping me concentrate
Looking up terms without anxiety, even got
coffee illegally, happily working on the list
of terms for a construction project, flowers
keeping me company - a unique melody
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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it is PURPLE ! !
PURPLE color..
PURPLE touch..
PURPLE look..
PURPLE line..
Pure talent..
Unique style..
Real dream..
Playful soul..
Lasting smile..
Exceptional theme..
she likes PURPLE..
she wears PURPLE..
she writes PURPLE..
she smiles PURPLE..
_____________________________________ ______________
*** dedicated to : J. M ***
Aug2oo9 -
written by :
poem by HaZeM PaKKaR
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chrome
(chrome)
Chrome, She can see herself In the shiny grill and the
Wire wheels of a red Chevelle with four on the floor and the top down
Chrome, zippin' by on an Electra Glide
With dual tail pipes doin' 105 in the broad daylight
On a two-lane headin' outta town
Forget Pink and purple paisleys
little mellow-yellow daisies
Ain't no pot of gold in her rainbow
Her favorite color is ..Chrome
Chrome, got her leg up high
on the bumper of my big black Mack truck
With a smoke stack pointed towards the sky
And mud flaps, you know the kind
Chrome,I said hey little girl you sure look nice
Do you wanna ride, I won't bite, she climbs inside
Says hell no, I want to drive
Forget Pink and purple paisleys
little mellow-yellow daisies
Ain't no pot of gold in her rainbow
Her favorite color is ..Chrome
It's chrome alright Shiny, nice, polished
Chrome, Chrome
Forget Pink and purple paisleys
Forget Pink and purple paisleys
little mellow-yellow daisies
Ain't no pot of gold in her rainbow
Her favorite color is ..Chrome
Her favorite color is...chrome
That girl is all about chrome
She sure loves chrome
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who's That Lady
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
Hear me callin' out to you
'Cause it's all that I can do
Your eyes tell me to pursue
But you say look yeah, but don't touch (but don't touch), baby
nah, nah, nah don't touch
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Sexy lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would dance upon a string
Any gift she'd wanna bring
I would give her anything
If she would just do what I say (just do what I say)
Come 'round my way, baby
Shine my way
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would love to take her home
But her heart is made of stone
I would keep on keepin' on
If I don't she'll do me wrong
Do me wrong, yeah
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Lady
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
Hear me calling out to you
'Cause that's all that I can do
Your eyes tell me to pursue
But you say "Look yeah, but don't touch, baby"
Nah, nah, nah don't touch
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Sexy lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would dance upon a string
Any gift she'd want I'd bring
I would give her anything
If she would just do what I say
Come 'round my way, baby
Shine my way
Who's that lady (who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (who's that lady)
Lovely lady (who's that lady)
Real real fine lady (who's that lady)
I would love to take her home
But her heart is made of stone
Gotta keep on keepin' on
If I don't she'll do me wrong
Do me wrong, yeah
(Instrumental)
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Secret Garden (Fantasy)
Hydranga entertains a lady bug-
Her guest for a summer afternoon-
Butterflies float in purple passion-
And the road to: 'Awe' 'tis arriving soon;
Dragonflies are for the night light...
And violet fairy wings are close but yet far away-
Under and umbrella of magic Lilac tree limbs-
Morning flight 'tis calling- this day;
There is immersion in silver tipped pearl-escent water-
In between your world and mine...
What dreams may arive in our inner visions-
The Mighty Magical morning- will find;
Perhaps a water colour of Autumn-Gold Mums for the asking?
Given bright eyes with saged wisdom- to really see...
In the shadow of the half broken moon- now wandering...
With infinity-i wrestle with the thoughts- inside of me;
Down the Enchanted Wooded Garden- i travel...
Looking for the light at the end of this gardened earth-
In the stark white valley of a single purple rose, i breathe-
Purple rain arrives at: The Secret Gardens official birth;
Purple tinted flowers are simply everywhere...
Lilac, Lavender, Violet and more-
Baby's Breath blankets them- in sweet shelter-
From the crystal dew-
Just outside the Gardens gated door;
A purple Dahlia comes calling-
In a Violet and deep Lavender haze...
Ah, but tomorrow 'tis yet another day-
And the Garden shall be under the influence of another moon phase;
The Paisley tree may then decide to bloom-
Or the Iris may catch your bright eye...
Whatever attracts your attention in this Sanctuary...
Has reached out to you- with her Intentioned Lavender Sigh;
***************************************** ***********************************
October,20 09
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snow White Kisses
Snow White Kisses
Snow White Kisses
My purple sky hang over me
My purple sky fly over me
Snow White dreams of frolics in the forest
Wanting day to last the whole life time
She remembers dwarves so fine attentive
She remembers drinks of draughts of fruit and vine
She lay down for final time and then upon awakening
The Gragon fly attend ewe Snow White kisses
Purple kisses mounted on her prose
Purple kisses to the breathtaking lady sleeping
mentioning a few more million in her dreaming
meaning to remain in realm of hiding
she is found in soft repose alarmingly cold
until my kisses bring her love.
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Asylum
My tears are blue,
My eyes, Purple, green and black-
Yours, I do not know the color of-
I may have met you before in some dark alley-
Your eyes are shut as you sleep- You, I do not know.
All eyes are upon me now- Orange, blue and yellow-
The sky is green and clouds are maudlin-
Blood falls from eyes of sorcerers,
Tears, blue as deep sea water- falling from my eyes,
My eyes are purple, green and black.
Trapped inside a place unknown-
Unknown to my spirit's heaven-
Locked inside this devil's paradise- I cannot fathom reality.
I weep blue tears, combining with the blood
Pouring from the ceiling so dank and dark-
Turning purple and magenta, in hue-
Your lips are red- red as rage,
My hair is dark and dark as is Satan's advocate's
Please somebody rescue me!
My tears are blue, my eyes,
Purple, green and black- the color of yours
Still remains a mystery- When shall you awaken?
Only in good time, my friend, only in good time-
The face of the clock on the wall is orange - Its hands lost in space-
I am lost and beside myself- while you sleep-
We are locked inside of an asylum- I heard-
You are sleeping, still as the locked door before us-
I wonder, are you dreaming or are your dreams turning to nightmares-?
My ears are ringing, I am blue- they just told me through the keyhole that
I am locked inside the world of my delusions?
Through your eyes I could read your thoughts but
Your eyes are closed as you sleep- and my eyes, are closed to the world.
Colors and more colors before me, my tears are blue,
I am blue-please release me from my pain.
I know I have been told in time I will be but the clock upon the wall
Has no feelings-just decorating this chamber of hell with
Its bright orange face as my blue tears fall
Onto the urine stained floors of this confinement-
My soul dissolves into nothingness, while blood drips from the ceiling-and
I wonder- do they make keys that unlock minds from the cells of their delusions?
Somebody just painted my world black and I am doomed to be trapped here
Forever…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making love with art, religion, philosophy, putting passion in all the proper places of the earth...
i made love to books
kissed each page
hugged each chapter like
no other
licked all its covers
slept with it for years
and i made love to
a career
all years showered without spare
my hours are dissertations
all days marked with treatises
all hours danced with
possibilities about a new realm
of academic stairs
i wore caps, those black ones
i was obsessed with black robes
tickling life
with probes
murdering the birth of lofty desires
my life is miserable
without the passion with you
your body i have drawn in canvass
and i throw away all paints
and Chinese brushes burned
your gaze i sculpted on a tree
and the tree was cut
turned into firewood
ashed...
passion is still there wiggling
like blood in the veins of my arms
pulsating like a breathing salamander
on the ceiling
the room breathes at me
the bed creaks
because i am lying about myself
and suppressed what should have been more
passionate on the grass
and the shores of the white sandy beaches
somewhere in my dreams
the wildest ones
but i learned a lot of wisdom then
got an A+ on restraint
cooling down
like winter ice like beautiful crystals
on my palm
and i learned where to put passion
somewhere
where i can be perfect again like
the gods of the witty wind
i made love to books
ejaculated on each page
licked each hard page
and i have learned to live
my life
like a gentleman in the room
where faces of men
are straight like Gibraltar pillars
their arms made of marble
their minds
solid as steel and i do not stop
to put where passion must be put
in the proper places of this earth
i made love to mountains
kissed the fog
and licked each cloud
slept on cliffs and
got high
on the wings of the birds of my
youth and
imagination
i am entangled on the white thighs
of poetry
my soul my body my hands
made captive
all century....
and i made love with freedom
penetrated love,
ate passion
chewed religion
and i made love with art and i made love
with philosophy
and now, everyone loves me
or at least that is what
i think to be....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purple Orange Yellow Blue
Purple orange yellow blue
All leads to I love you
Purple cant change the way I feel
What I say is completely real
Orange makes me smile
When I haven’t seen you in a while
Yellow cant possibly be
What it changes from what I see
Blue is so much more than a color
Its what catches me from whats taller
And the I love you
Is simply true just for you!
Fringe flower
Small fragile
as if a piece of
bone china with a
creamy sheen landed
on cobblestones of
a Dublin street
she walked there those
uneven stones
beneath her feet
pasty hand clasped
secure in his grip
her eyes protruded
to try to touch
lifeless buildings
carriages horses
cobblestones below
life seemed slow
but then that grip
was not meant to be
as he boarded the ship
that carried him over a sea
today a purple bract
displays in its usual way
one might ask whether its
a maiden or a quean
as pollinators stream
under the cover of sun
toward the purple one
poem by Walter Durk
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