A Social Phobic's Interpretation & Decoration of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.

Posts tagged ‘art’

Just a poem

I loved her

thousands of times

searching for

the soul of a poem

i loved her

devoutly

a village where

cherry blossoms spring from

i loved her

a stack of white sails

passing through twilight

across the fluted water

i was not afraid

of the cold river

thousands of pages turned

occasionally

from the corner of my eye

she was a bright scenery

suddenly

searching thousands of times in vain

it turned out

she’s just a poem

those shy dimples

where poetry is from.

Neon

Standing on a street

criss-crossed with neon

flashing like stars

from afar

shining on the ground

her colorful figure

red orange yellow green … purple

changes at will

as the music in the coffee shop

red is both warm and aloof

orange a little bit cheerful

yellow dignified and elegant

green quiet and fresh

cyan youthful and pure

blue melancholy and sad

purple dreamy and mysterious

her figure is even more

charming and enchanting

sometimes a budding flower

sometimes a halo

on the head of an angel

sometimes a long train of

pearls in the dark

a flowering tree

bright and eye-catching

her body underwater

like stars singing

in the splendor of the sky

i walk slowly

silently

can’t bear to leave

probably this is the life

a dream

cannot finish.

Redemption

I’ve been

saving myself

what i’m saying is

all the activities i did

for poetry

are because

my soul chose not to

remain silent

through the ordinary

days

like a demon

that leaps out of the cold

somewhere in the dark night

disturbs my mind

forces the sleep

out of me

brings me

body heat

and some

impulse and passion

loneliness and shouting

imprisoned in thoughts

they carry

the sorrow of an explorer

it’s so awake and resurrected

my ideals and ambitions

like a general

deductive

i mean

every poem i graffiti

every word is

a soldier saving

a teeny tiny me

awakens every inch

of my skin

every swelling

drop of blood

every sound of every

rush of adrenaline.

 

 

Tree

Stars come to me

beauty

starts moving

wind blossoms

imagination beckons

art

enters the heart

time

is the leaves

that fall on our world

there’s a

tree

in our hearts

that keeps it.

Realistic

This life

is tempting

touching

life is

full of spiritual

scenery

colored flowers

flavored fruits

this sentiment

is time

shaped into

a psychological cup

here is

the world for the soul

the free loving hands

the direction of reality

this raw

ideal self.

Old country pub

A small town tavern

people with

frustration, contrition, melancholy

they sit nightly

at the bar

let everything

be palliated

in the country pub they

take a breather

exchange secrets

relax their souls

in old

country pub

he hides when he is down

he won’t play pool

he sits in a dark corner

bottles on the table

alcohol he’s downed

he slowly smokes a cig

watches some tv

listens to old music

thinks in solitude in

old country pub

a boring place

bland yet abundant

a feeling of peace

a place to pause

and rest

old country pub

for people who’ve cried

for life

for love

for people who are afraid

of the future

for people who remember too much

the past

old country pub

he left the old country pub

he went back in

he has his cigarette stubbed out

he lights up another

again.

Gloaming

The sun above the western trees

slowly going down

propping a slice of light

packing the rivers and mountains

painting a unique picture

sunset

dedicating the remaining energy to

the distance

leaving deep love and affection

letting the earth feel the warmth

again

althought it’s sunset

it’s actually a kind of pattern

escorting the ecological nature

gathering strength in silence

to dispel the dark night

to be ready tomorrow

to shine again.

 

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