She

grl3

Pleasant sunshine once hit her face

But she unwillingly turned around

Clutching away the sadness she had enrolled

Since the day she was found

No one did ask her about her distress

No one did care, no one did crave

The soul never sighed, the soul never leaped

The soul only whimpered in her sleep

At times she bubbled, at times she blurred

But something mystified the aura around her

Such confused and such perplexed

Was I when I thought about her…

Once her brown beady eyes saw some rain

And then I did spot their hidden pain

But still she lied, still remained strong in fib

This made the paper touch my nib

Such was she…

grl1

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Thanks for being a part of my paradox!

Enjoy!!!

A tincture of each.


 en9

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What color do the winds have?

What color does the music high?

What colors do the feelings deep?

What color does the tears, the sigh?

 

No particular color,

But a tincture of each.

 

What color does the heartbeat have?

What color does my emotions?

What colors do the light of joy?

What colors do the rules, the notions?

 

No particular color,

But a tincture of each.

 

What color do our dreams have?

What color does our life?

What color does the words that calm?

What colors the words of hope and strife?

 

No particular color,

But a tincture of each.

 

What color does my smile have?

What colors do my pains?

What color does a child spread?

What color does the rain?

 

No particular color,

But a tincture of each.

 

A bit of snow, fields, mountains and ditch,

Some pain, some joy, some hide and seek,

Some lemon, some apple, some orange and peach,

Life is nothing, but a tincture of each.

 

 

No particular color,

But a tincture of each.

 

 

© 2012 

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 Thanks for being with me friends, you all are different, special, away, near, tall, short, rural, urban,

  red, blue, green, purple, rainbowa tincture of each!

w43.jpg

Enjoy our paradox!

 

 

 😀

No more life

 

 

Dark crimson

Red,

Some black

Some bluish pigments

Spots she had.

 

She lied there

Unmovable

Untreatable

Unused,

Outguessed

Remains

The reason of her

Such state,

Remains

In her

Solid cold bones.

 

Her pink turned black lips

Her brown caramel eyes

Her breathless

Noiseless

Motionless

Lifeless

Body.

 

 

Unmovable

Unseen

Reason of her

Present state,

Unknown.

 

Only some dripping hot blood

Shows

That before a while

She was movable

Treatable

Worth guessed

Outraged.

 

Why?

 

No one knows

No one guesses

No one feels

No one shows

No one tries

No one wants

No one does

No one does know

 

No one

 

 

Except that

She will never return

Ever.

 

 

© 2012

 

=================

This post was an answer to the daily prompt, “http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/daily-prompt-imitationflattery/” ie, copying your favorite blogger style of writing! Woof! Cool right?

Not likely. Trying to imitate someone, but not losing your own style, however, your style must not overlap your inspirations…Woof! Too much to handle!

So, one of my favorites and the one who I never though I could copy, the free verse writer  THE NAUGHTY POET, (http://thenaughtypoet.wordpress.com/) is imitated here by me . Hope its not too bad. Would love to hear from my inspiration himself, as well as my lovely friends.

 

 

Thank you!

Enjoy!

 

Myself, I lack

Happiness is not the only thing I lack

I carry a heavy weight, a sack

On my shoulders? No,

On my heart a bit, back

On my soul too

Some debt left due.

No, I don’t cry

.

.

.

No tears in my droughty eyes

No smile on the dark, low

Lips. They are never in bow…

Not only fear I lack

But a hand, that once was on my back.

.

.

.

My eyes are empty

Just like a deserted island

A ship left stagnant

In a similar icy cold stagnant sea

I don’t just lack hope

I lack love. My choice? Nope.

.

.

.

Those pale stones of skin

Those endless, noiseless breath

 Those water-less, emotionless eyes

 Those wild feelings left in dread.

 They just remind me,

How much more I lack…

.

.

.

 How much they made me lack…

 I still behave, as I hadn’t had a choice…

 I lack, even more than I do lack

I lack a pulse, I lack a voice

In my world, black and white

I don’t even own myself…my breath, my sight.

.

.

.

 Want to know what I lack?

Its myself I lack…

 

—————————————————————————–

 

The picture made my heart stir and restless.

Out of that restlessness, this piece of poetry or prose, what ever you call it, came out. Just the very words my heart described the painting with.  All inspired by the picture, so the credit goes to it!

I just wish, I interpreted it right.

Hats off to the artist, who painted such a beautiful and heart-stirring master-piece on the canvas.

 

Enjoy!