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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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Cloaked and Hidden Agenda
You think I can't see through your strategy?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think your creepiness comes to bother me?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
You think my eyes are closed to your deceit.
But I'm a product of these urban streets!
And that cloaked and hidden agenda.
I've got a remedy to chill the heat,
Of that cloaked and hidden agenda.
We'll see which one is stunned with frozen feet.
When you free that hidden agenda.
My mind is not blinded or fast asleep.
I see right through you and I don't have to peep.
That repeated game will be your defeat.
With that cloaked and hidden agenda!
You think I can't see through your strategy?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
You think my eyes are closed to your deceit.
But I'm a product of these urban streets!
And that cloaked and hidden agenda.
I've got a remedy to chill the heat.
We'll see which one is stunned with frozen feet.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
But I'll beat that hidden agenda!
Those tactics that you use will be put to bed.
With everything you've done and everything you've said.
And I'm going to be the one to end your dread.
And your cloaked and hidden agenda!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Eyes Of An Angel
She once looked into an angel's eyes.
No matter how hard that angel tries,
The angel can't disguse,
The compassion in the angel's eyes.
The angel denies,
The angel doesn't see the tears she cries,
Every time the angel comes near, a peice of hear heart dies,
All because of the angel's eyes.
She hates the angel, but the angel's eyes,
Make up for all the lies,
And at night the angel flies,
Watches her dream about the angel's eyes.
She stops and sighs,
Stops crying when she really tries,
Thinks about pain and its enormous size,
Then, yet again, cries.
The tears she cries,
The heart that dies,
When she sighs,
Will they ever be noticed by the angel's eyes?
poem by Jackie Crow
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But in the right-wing media, they do have a right-wing bias. And they also have an agenda. So their agenda is: we're an adjunct of the Republican Party, and we're going push that agenda every day, and, as you say, brand these stories that help further the right-wing cause.
quote by Al Franken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Heart, Love
your heart, love
as the rainbow
will fade away as the rain over
as the arrow
will fly so fast as released from its crossbow
your heart, love
how can't i hold it like forever?
your heart, love
offer me nothing but sad, pain and sorrow
heaven, tell me
why i can't choose for whom my love for?
still my love for thee
will last 'til endless tomorrow
will never like rainbow
nor like arrow
your heart, love, may i borrow?
poem by Magenta Cyans
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In My Arms
The deal is on the rise again.
The ship comes into shore.
Theyve been away to somewhere,
But life goes on no less.
Through the foreign oceans,
Underneath the seas.
And walls come tumbling down;
Well be forever calm.
And youll be here in my arms,
Ill keep you away from harm.
I thought about you twice just then;
You get me everytime.
Keeps coming out of nowhere;
It cannot be defined.
Your colors are magnificent:
From magenta to bright blue.
And walls come tumbling down;
Well be forever calm.
And youll be here in my arms,
Ill keep you away from harm.
And walls come tumbling down;
Well be forever calm.
And youll be here in my arms,
Ill keep you away from harm.
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Keeping An Agenda Makes A Difference
Hoping I'd awaken next to someone who had thrilled,
Is a heartache I had dumped.
Wishing for someone to come to undo all my ills,
Is a heartached I had dumped.
Keeping faith and praying I would find somebody real,
Is a heartache I had dumped.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
Yes I believe...
Priorities kept in sight,
Eventually makes things turn out right...
If a patience isn't hit by a car,
Or struck by lightening.
Yes I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
Hoping I'd awaken next to someone who had thrilled,
Is a heartache I had dumped.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
Wishing for someone to come to undo all my ills,
Is a heartached I had dumped.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
Keeping faith and praying I would find somebody real,
Is a heartache I had dumped.
Yes I believe...
Priorities kept in sight,
Eventually makes things turn out right...
If a patience isn't hit by a car,
Or struck by lightening.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
With eyes opened wide.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
With eyes opened wide.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
And I believe...
Keeping an agenda makes a difference.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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Water My Thirsty Soul
Can the rain fall from cloudless skies
Can your tears fall from hardened eyes
I cried out to the Lord, in my time of need
I prayed for the rain, my soul to feed
And my God, who is never far away
Opened up His heart as He listened to me pray
And from heaven on high He sent down the rain
There's a river of grace that's gonna wash away the pain
And out of my heart flows a river so deep
My once dry eyes they now continually weep
And everywhere the river flows there's grace from above
And everyone it touches they are filled with His love
This rain that falls, it falls from endless blue skies
It fills my empty heart and falls down from my eyes
The Lord Himself sent down the rain from above
And now the cloudless skies are filled with clouds of His love
So if it's rain your looking for, this moment, today
Wont you fall down on your knees and cry out and pray
The Lord of every rain dropp that falls down from above
Will sweep you down the river to an ocean of love
This ocean is boundless, its forever and a day
And in this sea of beauty you will hear the Lord say
I am the Father's tears that was shed from above
And I will carry you home across this ocean of love
poem by Frank McEleny
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One Sweet Rain
Rain is my teardropp from sky’s glass castles
From heaven it comes to your hands, it slides
It lets you seek white clouds and up the sky
Brush lashes, wipe eyes, each time you cry
Rain reminds you of a Great God, who cares
It lets you feel my love, it whispers nigh
How I adore, I keep your every kiss
In my heart, when it rains, our love’s a bliss!
Rain, drops in the fields in time of sorrow
Fill hearts with hope now and tomorrow
Wash white as snow, tender, pure and fragrant
The angels chant in the drum strings of rain
Rainbows form; magenta, pink, and blue
Connecting valleys, cliffs, and mountains
Splatter in river, shred showers of falls
A baptism sudden in the dessert, calls
Rain, rain, let cradle your tired day
I think of you, my life, in every way
And when things come and seem to be unfair
Let raindrops fall, your tear is mine to bear
Rain, rain I love you more, when it rains
When together we’d hold like roots and lighting
When together we’d hug like torrents,
You and I; one sweet rain from God’s heart.
poem by Rose Flores Rosevoc2
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Sorrow Plays Through Me
An instrument of sorrow
Sorrow doth strum
The strings of my soul
And beat mine heart her drum
Sorrow weeps through me
And in me she seek
Love, enchantment and expression
So mine eyes leek
Thine tears, thou tears, mine tears
To water the joyous earth
With the sorrow of truth
And to new sorrow give birth
Sorrow, sweet, melancholic
Which adorn mine face with rain falls
Of power, of strength, filled with beauty
Surpassing human walls.
Pouring out of me,
For mine eyes to see
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The mainstream media has its own agenda. They do not want to print the facts. They have an agenda, they have a slant, they have a bias. It is outrageous to me.
quote by Curt Weldon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Clouds Never Rain
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have only seen a magenta bolt of lightening try to strike my heart, and
Aqua tears trickling from my dazzled misty eyes, down my
Flushed and lonesome cheek, though
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have seen spotted purple snakes crawling up my bedroom walls, and
Transparent bubbles filled with dreams floating before my very eyes, though,
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, though
I have seen a reddish sun cast shadows down upon a tortuous, rippling river;
I have seen tears cascading down a sloping hill, and
Gulls flapping their gentle, feathered wings atop some cragged cliffs, although
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have heard eerie and commanding thoughts and voices
That no one else could hear.
I have had disturbing, stabbing thoughts that have injured me inside, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have slid down an icy mountainside on a very sunny night.
I have wept a sea of deep blue and purple tears, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never heard thunder clap behind a rosy cloud, or seen
Tears fall from heaven or have heard angels singing.
I have had morbid thoughts of loss, death and suicide,
While thunder clapped, and
These pink clouds could not rain.
Perhaps someday I shall see a pink cloud rain upon a
Magnificent world, which I have created for myself,
Where tall green and golden reeds are surrounded by swirling water pools, and
A hallucinogenic sun sets behind high and mighty mountains-
And there, people would be trustworthy and true to heart.
No, I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although,
I have seen almost everything there is to see-
Some good sights and some bad-
I have heard some screaming voices echo in my mind, although,
Some quiet ones as well.
I have seen some orange and, pinkish sunsets, and mirages in
The fortress of my own mind, however-
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, and
I have never seen a pink cloud weep before….
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Education isn't part of my agenda, it is my agenda.
quote by Kenny Guinn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The nature of her beauty
The nature of her beauty
~
her pale soft skin
pure like untouched fields of snow
her lips red like the roses petal
feather like in their kiss
those eyes warm like the earth
feed my soul with a richness of passion
the depth of which is limitless
bury my heart into hers
let me lay amongst her nature
let me rejoice her beauty
let her words sing to me
the essence of her soul
place my hands in hers firmly
that I may feel their warmth
holding eternally
there is a beauty undying
embedded into my heart
and its all in her nature
poem by Matthew Holloway
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