Gray Poems

Our Song in Pink and Gray

our song is me writing- 
"poetry about those stolen stares
songs about that beaming smile
and even a whole film script about it"
the ink of my pen bleeds in pink
but later turns to gray
i weave our memories as part of a big story
with a climax in which you
devoured me with a kiss
but the falling action sets me

Gray Summer Day

The play fountains still arisen
On this gray cloudiest summer day.

pinkish gray sunset

sunset on the sea 
watching the sun through the clouds 
the gray skies turn pink

I Am Gray

I may be no primary colour
The trendy say I’ve had my day
But I shall be no shrinking violet
I stand tall and proud… for I’m GRAY!

I’m never seen gracing a pizza
Or the tail of a visiting comet
I’m not in the arc of a rainbow
Nor the colours that emanate from it

I’m in every shadow, for that is

I am Gray

Late, I am gray of hair and mind;
I’m told it makes me look refined
the hair, the mind; they do not know
the black I hardly ever show.
I once was white, as were we all
but over many years, we fall.
I’ve tried some other colors too
I once was very, very blue,
then sunshine yellow for a while;
but all that

Does Gray Separate

Down where the crepe myrtle blooms
Their lovely color against gray
The pecan trees' verdant leaves breathe
August has brought a cool breeze day  

Does the gray sky separate, block
Our view and prayer line to heaven
Or is it the colder air that chills our bones
Even though doves sing almost twenty-four seven 

Doves sing from joy and gratitude
Thankful

Gray Orphans and Ancient Flint

Many paths lead away from home
but only one leads back
as the years sit salted upon the rack
you find the path home has narrowed and 
turned from gates of iridescence
to mirrors opaque and black-
you arrive with exhaustion on your boots
a feast of favorites on a favorite plate
go upstairs to your yellow crib
have those unreachable dreams again\
things

PETER GARGANO KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS WHITE MAN WITH A GRAY BEARD

THIS ALL BEGAN 1994 MY FOUR TEAR OLD DAUGHTER HAD SLEEPS OVERS WITH CIRO GARGANO STEP DAUGHTERS EVERYTHING SEEMED FINE ONLY I WAS NOT AWARE OF THE STRIP CLUB MY ABUSIVE EX ATTENDING FREQUENTLY WITH PETER GARGANO THE OWNER OF THE CLUBS HE ALSO HAD ONE IN TAMPA I HAD MY OWN CLEANING SERVICE LIFE

Mean Gray

Mean Gray

I Know You've Been 
Thinking About What
A Normal Person 
Would Think...

And Are Often 
Always Trying
To Make Sure 
You Do.

You May Have Even
Learned What A
Superior Person 
Would Think...
 
And You Might
Make Sure You
Know 
How Hard You're 
Trying...

And How You Failed...
And How You Tried Again.
And How You're
Trying To Think:

Ideally  

A Normal Thought.

***

No One Better,
No One

Gray Area

Lines blur, hard to see,
Right and wrong in shifting fog,
Truth becomes obscured.

©bfa050925

Gray Blue

Gray Blue, by Lisa Norton

Gray skies. Gray cement walls. Gray gravel. Gray emotion as I lead myself single file into the long line that yet again stands before me.

Yellow shirts. Yellow skin. Yellow anxiety within the veins. How can it be so lonely in a place so full?

White pads. White eyes. White teeth. Nothing is

Gray

Reflecting on times, ones perfectly certain,
Without shadows of doubt on the mind,
As though shining, waiting by black or white curtains,
As though truth were so easy to find,
So clear now it seems, contrary to say,
Such clarity is not in the slightest,
As black, surely, but one dark shade of grey,
And pure white, just another, the lightest.

october brushed by

october brushed by

 in the midst of an october sunrise
 bearing splashes of colors beyond description
 like a thick acrylic paint mixture
 crimson with cadmium yellow
 thrown…scattered like seed…by the hand of god
 morning unfolds like a delicate rose 

 light crawls like aching fingers
 touching soft lips that moisten the sands,
 retreating, sliding like

Chasing the Gray

Suddenly over the sudden years
I have felt an encumbrance; I sense an albatross -
the weight of sundry uncharted days.
Times I chronicle today as if I were a wax cylinder
or a broken spool in a cassette tape.

A gray goose wing flight is my personal sky.
I must write 'personal sky’ ten times a day
so that the abated

Gray Stillness

The still clouds across the pasture
hugging the mountains, did not stir
A blanket of gray, everywhere
brought peace to a soul that is bare
Gray stillness stopped time in a beat
There is nothing left to defeat
Only wisdom to know it's time
It will all begin with this rhyme

Heidi Sands

3/25/25

*8 Syllables

(C)opyright

• Short Gray Poems
• Famous Gray Poems
• Best Gray Poems
• Read Gray Poems
• Long Gray Poems
• Gray Quotes