Pinked Poems | Examples

I'm Almost Glad

I passed you on my path by chance,
by the bench where we once sat
with hands and hearts entwined.

You looked on through me
as if I were the fading apparition
you left when you said goodbye.

Your eyes saw past the flame of hurt,
that dying love ember left behind
as though you felt things that I did not.

Your head and hand turned to another
who laughed as you brushed her cheek
and pinked at your tender touch.

I’m almost glad I saw you there
for it fueled my footsteps forward.
I passed you with a terse nod 
that said
	… I’m almost glad you left.

The Enchanted Forest

Glass illusions forestry of butterflies in flight 
swiveling and turning wing, aiming for sun 
hovering over lulling waters of purple hues  
Breathing like flowers, frilling up the air 
inside a cornucopia world of rich and bright 

Birds are calling from afar symmetrical chirps 
of grandeur, across the wide expanse 
nocturnal illumination of the heart and soul 
Varathane music sonatas, flute escapades  
within a dormant brook, nature's usurp 

Fairies, trellises, and magic twigs interlinked 
inside the Foloi forest, the mighty oak respires 
aside centaurs and dryads, of their time
an emerald green, bottled by nature herself 
all is transformed here, even the sky is pinked  

Altered, Remodeled, Reworked, Transformed, 
by my sweet, poetic imagination...

                           "Follow Me  "

I want a Girl Grinch Doll

I want a grinch doll the little girl said.
“Like this?” her mother asked, showing her a grown up grinch.
“No! I want a baby grinch.”
Her mother did some research and found one.
“Like this?”

The child began to scream.
“I do not want a boy baby grinch, I want a baby girl grinch!”
Luckily, this company also sold a pinked up grinch.
“Yes!” the child agreed “Yes, yes, yes!”
It is not that expensive her daddy said.
Should we get her something else also?

The mother was at a loss for words.
She had already spent way too much on this child.
But since she had hidden the other presents
She nodded, and he ordered her something extra.
Afterall, little girls are their daddy’s pride and joy.

Gasps of Witnessed Horrors

I'm shivering, naked, I'm amidst bodies on a cart
All I remember is looking up awaiting the water
Entangled I am seeing grimaced pinked faces
And a solumn looking sky very close to tears

Now discarded, left, sensing a sweet acrid smell
Knowing the await, soon the others and I
Time passes as I drift in and out of reality
Then night falls, as I awaken to quieting sobs

Accents I hear, that I'd only ever heard in movies
Aghast gasps of witnessed horrors befall my ears
Crisp morning airs adorn my emaciated frame
Slowly my eyes open to a cacophony of cries

Gently I feel my skeletal existance being carried
Choked voices console as I blearily scan
A silent emptiness abounds, even chimney stacks
No more I see these ills, these evils, they!

A Butterfly, Please

                          Oh, Lord, let me be a 
                          great butterfly, please?
                          Not a human, down on 
                          my knees.
                          Or a hummingbird, I may 
                          like that!
                          Zooming above your earth, 
                          in my plumaged soft hat.
                          Even a cute, adorable bunny 
                          with pinked nose, that would 
                          be both darling and funny.
                          Even a sweet, calico cat can 
                          you please turn me into that? 
                          Please, Lord, listen to my plea!
                          Free me from a pathetic mortal be!


                                      8-21-2021
                                          1

The Smart Italian Girl

She was sixteen and dressed to the likings of fashion 
a beautiful loose top was her choice of today's passion 
as she mounted the bus she got stares from the guys 
and teasing looks, but none of them ever met her eyes 

yapping away in Italian thinking she looked a bit french 
they thought her cute, and some thought her a wench 
"poor girl" they said, "went down town, got pregnant" 
"and now she wears that top to hide the baby tenant " 

they laughed as they poked each other and guffawed 
gesturing like little ruffians and talking way too loud  
but to their surprise she turned to them and smiled,  
she was an Italian hot blooded girl, to put it mild...

when she spoke in Italian they gaped and shut up     
"cretino, stupido, imbecile" well I guess its my stop !  
guess your having fun at my expense,   hey boys 
then  she flirtatiously smiled, and left with poise 

they sat there dumfounded with faces slightly pinked   
as she stepped off the bus she turned, then winked. 

July 24, 2021

ps this is a true story by the way, slightly changed but true 
never assume someone doesn't understand a language ..

Thirteen Does the Watusi

Dancing in the widow peak, doing the watusi as only hair knows how to do
The flamingo pinked up in face and beak, annoying man and dog.
Prancing along comfortably, her light blue eyes laughed and whistled.
Beyond caring how the masses would perceive her pleasured craziness.

Craziness inspired by unicorn breath that danced among flowers and song.
Sight unseen, but heard and often, in the bowels of the juice box breathers.
Nose tried to go along, but had a mind of her own which was reluctant.
Resilient certainly, as her face was proud in its persistent preservation.

Masses did not care, did not know, did not imagine or care about her in the least. 
Also thirteen, the year of the superficial dragon, creature and all-knowing beast.
Fired up, dancing carelessly as teenagers do whose brains are on fire, 
The flamingo laughed, issuing orders, dainty whispers echoing in her nose hairs.

Love Unfolded Like a Flower

Love Unfolded Like a Flower
by Michael R. Burch

Love unfolded
like a flower;
Pale petals pinked and blushed to see the sky.
I came to know you
and to trust you
in moments lost to springtime slipping by.

Then love burst outward,
leaping skyward,
and untamed blossoms danced against the wind.
All I wanted
was to hold you;
though passion tempted once, we never sinned.

Now love's gay petals
fade and wither,
and winter beckons, whispering a lie.
We were friends,
but friendships end . . .
yes, friendships end and even roses die.

Keywords/Tags: Love, rose, roses, flower, petals, unfolding, blossoms, spring, passion, desire, lust, sin, winter, fade, wither, wind, gay, color, pink, pinked, blushed, friendships, die, death

Free Riders

This moment of exciting green things
Sooner than later will be pinked
Earthly creatures shall be free riders
Courtesy patents of the carefree 
The penniless will ride in first class
The dollar-full will ride in first class
Everything that exists will ride
In economy class not any more
Never out of charity but compulsion

I see the plane coming to land soon
The run-way is being built daily
Forged tickets are being purchased
Dreamy the powerful and the wealth
Dosing nations of the super powers
Less curious nations of the soft powers
Proud creatures with fiery fire hidden in bottles
Unrepentant those who know God just a little 
Carefree those who know humanity less 
They shall own intellectual property rights

And when this moment comes
Creatures will have equal shares
Free riders in extra-terrestrial realms
The place of total freedom in chains
Governed and controlled obscurity
There every passenger will wake up
And shout,   “It is finished”

He Who Loved Night Woman

He Who Loved Night Woman, carrying
ivory revive ring, followed twilight
heart voice calling.
mature antlers appeared 
as he entered healing water

woodland creatures lined up.
raccoon, fox, elk, moose, 
felt the cool water as if they had
entered it with him,

mystical night, universal stillness
in the woods, sky opened, pinked in
one specific place, leading He Who Loved
Night Woman. An owl gave a tribute.

Flooded gnarled oak pulled her roots
in, so he could more easily get to his
lady love. The only sound was He Who
Loved Night Woman diving into the waters 
deep. He had been seeking his lady fair 
for many moons.

A sacred hush in the forest,
awe for his courage, and convictions.
His body offered up lovingly onto the
shore the next morning, ivory 
revive ring, no doubt on his
love, who had disappeared 
in the same waters many 
moons earlier.

Depression Glass

An “outed” spot –
Pinked
Fragile
Pale blue
And broken
Un-
And
Over-
Feeling
And loaded
Adjacent
Peripheral
Inches from breathing
A partial
And permanent
Fly
On the paper
The absence of presence
And presence of absence
a secret
Exposed
and
Pressed
To the glass

Fallen Tresses--Pinked For Contest

Her golden tresses float
one by one-- down
No longer her crowning glory;
simply a reminder of what was--
what cannot be--
tormented by those perfect coiffures surrounding.
She would gather gossamer strands to bosom,
had she one to do so;
perhaps, even collect them to be worn again.

If only there were strength to be had....
Yet fortitude flew like Spring
taking with it the Summer joys
'til all that remains is the falling.
She awaits now.
There is but one final season
and her barren soul reflects the trees...
naked; dormant; forgotten
as her golden tresses float down.

Janet Cervenka 9/1/2015
Dedicated to Christie Riojas
"Stay in the fight and win"

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. 
This fight maims body and soul.

Picture Prompt: http://www.corbisimages.com/images/Corbis-42-75187865.jpg?size=67&uid=2e2d75a0-8d30-4643-9c96-f35a36c66986

Sore and Bleeding

Sometimes
it feels like 
a mauling
these bits and pieces
you extract from me
like a parasite feeding 
sucking from my being
my life force without
permission or qualm-
this is my life,
my precious life
if you must feed from me
consume all of me
please, don't leave me 
grossly deformed
skinless, raw
pinked fleshed,
wet, sore and bleeding
open to infection
where yellow pus ooze
the scabby scabs scabbed over
and over and over again.
let me live whole
or let me die whole.

Raising the Blinds

A morn's sun raised the blinds
As sunlight pinked the clouds
Its colors fell across
My lap, tinting my words
Sublime, pen and ink tried
To contain sentiment
As they spilled blue
The blinds dissipate
As words release truth
High the sun rises
Its light controls pen
Slower the pen
Then pauses, waits
As the day wears
Colors painted
Artist tool
A palette
As sun sets
Blinds close
Darkness
Shades   

Inspired by a stanza written by Robert Frost:
The Death Of The Hired Man
"Part of a  moon was falling down the west,
Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.
Its light pored softly in her lap. She saw it
And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand"
Just part of it ...What struck me was "moon was falling down the west"

Manacled In Black Lace, Again

Masked maiden
In lacy black frills
Manacled, chained
Sensuous thrills
 
Birthday suit bare
Heavenly toned
Sweetened and ripe
In wanting groan
 
With her laced black fan
She lures with her scent
He slowly walks to her
As her eyes lament
 
She looks up to him
In hungering stare
As he looks down
Desiring her there
 
He offers his hand
His maiden in black
To rejoice their join
Passion attack
 
To a leather couch
He rests her down
His dark haired vixen
Lacy gowned
 
Hands encroach
In bodily roam
Synchronised
Heavenly home
 
In pleasurable touch
Their joys arise
In welcome slide
His pride inside
 
Rhythmic rhythm
Tantalising tongues
Hands homing
Sexually sung
 
Perpetual in motion
Writhing want
Cries of caressing
Her heavenly font
 
The mix of their motion
River of love
Quench of two
Eagle and dove
 
Rosy complexions
Flora flushed
Passions hushed
Pinked and blushed
 
Couched and cosy
Hunger appeased
Two covered in lace
In lovingly please




;-)

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