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Poems On / About RED  8/1/2014 12:44:34 AM
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Best Poems About / On RED
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Yellow Hammock

Blood is the color of my rose,
that's you
my flower.
Red rivers of it flow for you.

Red are the lips which speak to you,
for love is surely crimson too.

Red is the heart which beats for you
pulsating for you.

I cut my hand,
bite my lip
have your children,
post my burgundy earrings,
apply red nail polish
and toe paints,
wall decorate,
all red-hued
on our glowing nights.

You’re dark mystery
swelling inside my boundaries,
speaking to
that need in me;
my Reds.

You excite me.
I smell you now.
I can feel you walking to me.
I see you in my corner eye.

We are two:
Yellow Love
in the Hammock
in the deep deep sun
both in the womb.
Lonnie Hicks

Read more poems from Lonnie Hicks >>>



Twice As Much

Red-red-red-wine on my lips and,
I am about to say something;
But the sweet of the meat is in the eater.

Does not the rain has a father?
Does not the rain has a mother?
For my ears have heard of you but now,
My own eyes have seen you too.

Twice as much,
As beautiful as the daughters of Iyyob;
For the stone which the builders rejected had become the head.
Today, i am the stone and you are my lover;
For i am the headstone of the corner.

Come and work in my vineyard,
And come and quench my heart with love;
Like a roasted turkey and cranbery source from Turkey.
Today you are mine and,
Like a roasted guinea-fowl from Guinea!
Come and make love tom me my sweet one.
Edward Kofi Louis

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Blue Rose

A red rose for love,
My red rose for luck.
The black rose on my bed,
For my death and for yours.
Red rose for the blood
That drips off my finger.
Black for the hate
The swells in my heart.
Pink for the joy,
The wonder of the world.
White for the pure,
Thats very far from me.
Yellow for the sunshine,
That lightens up our day.
Red for the heart,
That crumbled in my chest.
Black for the grave,
That I will be in after death.

Red, black, red, black.
Yellow, pink, blue
For my soul I leave.
Blue for me to wander.
Blue for the ocean,
And for my soul we share.
Brianna Wilshusen

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Roses Are Red

Roses are red
But all of them aren’t
Some are yellow
Some pink and white
Not to mention violet
Some roses are fairly large
Others, like buttons, are quite small
Most roses live in gardens
At least until they’re snipped
Then they might live in your house
But only for a while
Ah, roses are red
Red red red
I say it again
Some even have
A bed of their own
Do they sleep at night?
Who knows?
Unless you walk in your sleep
Which I hope you don’t
I like my roses a deep,
Dark red
And when I can’t find them,
I buy pansies instead.
Randall Barfield

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Poems On / About RED