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Red Signal

Red is the color of love
But; 4 me red
Is a color of stop
My red signal;my periods
Amina Hanfa

Amina Hanfa
Three Words

three simple words
and it changed the oceans tides,
the strength of the wind.
the color of the leaves,
Wilma Rhymes

Wilma Rhymes
You Girl

You pretty soul in the back seat
Your diamond voice is super neat
It wows me like a magical trick
It does make me want to flirt
Cabdi Muqtaar

Cabdi Muqtaar
Down The Lanes Of August

DOWN the lanes of Augustâ??and the bees upon the wing,
All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Light Exists In Spring


A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson
" Men "

The heart of men thirst for blood as it was in the beginning, fulfillment is the end.

I heard the cry of a lamb far beyond as it's life was taken away remorselessly.

Mark Burrell

Mark Burrell
Blue-butterfly Day

It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry
There is more unmixed color on the wing
Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.
Robert Frost

Robert Frost
Loving Without Identification

When you love your neighbour
Even if he has not the same skin color with you
That how you call true happiness in your life
This loving attitude gives you entire freedom
Océane Malongo

Océane Malongo
Song At Sunset

Splendor of ended day, floating and filling me!
Hour prophetic-hour resuming the past!
Inflating my throat-you, divine average!
You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.
Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman
In The Beginning

WHEN sunshine met the wave,
Then love was born;
Then Venus rose to save
A world forlorn.
Harriet Monroe

Harriet Monroe
One Question

From what portion of my mind do my thoughts come from?
If only I knew,
there would be many I'm sure.


Per Bo

Once I knew a noble peasant
From a line of men large-hearted.
Light and strength were in his mind,
Lifted like a peak clear-lined

Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
The Jailer

My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,

Sylvia Plath
A Tryst

From out the desolation of the North
An iceberg took it away,
From its detaining comrades breaking forth,
And traveling night and day.
Celia Thaxter

Celia Thaxter
My Last Afternoon With Uncle Devereux Winslow

1922: the stone porch of my Grandfatherâ??s summer house

â??I wonâ??t go with you. I want to stay with Grandpa!â?

Robert Lowell
Waking In Winter

I can taste the tin of the sky â??- the real tin thing.
Winter dawn is the color of metal,
The trees stiffen into place like burnt nerves.
All night I have dreamed of destruction, annihilations â??-

Sylvia Plath
Forbidden Fruit. Ii.

Heaven is what I cannot reach!
The apple on the tree,
Provided it do hopeless hang,
That 'heaven' is, to me.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

These tales of old disguisings, are they not
Strange myths of souls that found themselves among
Unwonted folk that spake an hostile tongue,
Some soul from all the rest who'd not forgot
Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound

Remember the 1340's? We were doing a dance called the Catapult.
You always wore brown, the color craze of the decade,
and I was draped in one of those capes that were popular,
the ones with unicorns and pomegranates in needlework.

Billy Collins
Non Es Meravelha S'eu Chan

Non es meravelha s'eu chan
melhs de nul autre chantador,
que plus me tra.l cors vas amor
el melhs sui faihz a so coman.

Bernard De Ventadorn
The Man With The Blue Guitar

as green.

They said, 'You have a blue guitar,
You do not play things as they are.'

Wallace Stevens
They Clapped

they clapped when we landed
thinking africa was just an extension
of the black world
they smiled as we taxied home to be met

Nikki Giovanni
Strayed Crab

This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must
be over that way somewhere.
I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful
right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see it now; I wave it like a

Elizabeth Bishop
Red Riding-hood

On the wide lawn the snow lay deep,
Ridged o'er with many a drifted heap;
The wind that through the pine-trees sung
The naked elm-boughs tossed and swung;
John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier
Merlin Ii

The rhyme of the poet
Modulates the king's affairs,
Balance-loving nature
Made all things in pairs.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The clouds as I see them, rising
urgently, roseate in the
mounting of somber power


Denise Levertov
A Celebration

A middle-northern March, now as always-
gusts from the South broken against cold winds-
but from under, as if a slow hand lifted a tide,
it moves-not into April-into a second March,
William Carlos Williams

William Carlos Williams
An Octopus

of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,
it lies “in grandeur and in mass”
beneath a sea of shifting snow-dunes;
dots of cyclamen-red and maroon on its clearly defined
Marianne Moore

Marianne Moore
An Ode To My Love

Oda a su amante

Typical night
I found myself being with a guy
Angela Bugtai

Angela Bugtai
Only Until This Cigarette Is Ended

Only until this cigarette is ended,
A little moment at the end of all,
While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,
And in the firelight to a lance extended,
Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay

An agate-black, your roguish eyes
Claim no proud lineage of the skies,
No starry blue; but of good earth
The reckless witchery and mirth.
Madison Julius Cawein

Madison Julius Cawein

I lift my heart as spring lifts up
A yellow daisy to the rain;
My heart will be a lovely cup
Altho' it holds but pain.

Sara Teasdale
Two Tramps In Mud Time

Out of the mud two strangers came
And caught me splitting wood in the yard,
And one of them put me off my aim
By hailing cheerily “Hit them hard!”
Robert Frost

Robert Frost
Price Lake: 1961

Mouths shackled, dead or dying,
the bluegills, rainbows and browns
dangled from shiny metal
my father had thrown like chain

Ron Rash

By a Bed of Pansies

This pansy has a thinking face
Hilda Conkling

Hilda Conkling
Your Love Is Like The Briefness Of Tulips

You shout the beauty of spring
In lovely hues
Of red, yellow, purple and pink
As straight as cupid's arrow

Rose Marie Juan Austin
An Actor

Some one ('tis hardly new) has oddly said
The color of a trumpet's blare is red;
And Joseph Emmett thinks the crimson shame
On woman's cheek a trumpet-note of fame.

Ambrose Bierce
Notes For A Speech

African blues
does not know me. Their steps, in sands
of their own
land. A country

Amiri Baraka

-Albert Parsons
went to his death
singing Annie Laurie;
didn't another have

Lola Ridge


"Always Be Closing," Liam told usâ??
abc of real estate, used cars,

Donald Hall

It was a Maine lobster townâ??
each morning boatloads of hands
pushed off for granite
quarries on the islands,

Robert Lowell
Farm Boy After Summer

A seated statue of himself he seems.
A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently
The page he contemplates he doesn't see.


Robert Francis
Is It Crimson Or Is It Carmine?

…cold air
froze our breaths
Fall in its end
threw the last
Fahredin Shehu

Fahredin Shehu
A Brave And Startling Truth

We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou
By The Seaside : Twilight

The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of sea-birds
Flash the white caps of the sea.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Staying At Ed's Place

I like being in your apartment, and not disturbing anything.
As in the woods I wouldn't want to move a tree,
or change the play of sun and shadow on the ground.


May Swenson
Talking Xx

And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."

And he answered, saying:


Khalil Gibran

To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson.

He who could beard the lion in his lair,
Emma Lazarus

Emma Lazarus
Bluebird's Greeting

Over the mossy walls,
Above the slumbering fields
Where yet the ground no fruitage yields,
Save as the sunlight falls
George Parsons Lathrop

George Parsons Lathrop

I am in love with my womb
& jealous of it.

I cover it tenderly

Erica Jong