Rouge Poems - Poems about Rouge

The charming Miss Lola dwelt in the small town, at the edge of Red River, With only her goose, 'Rouge.' She was named after her spot of wet vigor. Rouge was the darling of Miss Lola, like precious spring, coming to visit; And was forever roaming from river to house, like golden stars, in orbit. Rouge frequented every room,...

Continue reading...

If red is your favourite colour, Then let there be blood in the sky, Bleed out would I, Just to appease your preferences, Plant one million roses, As the lavender decomposes, Just to indulge your eyes. Ruby rivers cover silver streams, I could not comprehend even in dreams, What I would do for that scarlet shade, Saturating my days, it is not afraid, To discolour my...

Continue reading...

Look at her again, being out of the ordinary No one needs that, eyes down til it passes You too, despite your centre stage position You're looking to the heavens But you have nothing to hold onto That beast is just tolerating you as a burden Anyone who saves you will just prop you up It's devastating, but you need...

Continue reading...

Moulin Rouge The greens and pinks magnetize to my eye Like flowers abloom, in a field espied; That overwhelms creation’s invention With beauty of grandiose dimension Shifting to the wind’s orchestrated movements, And winks my soul agape by the performance To be delighted by the extravaganza presented. To see the hand, relax in the moment, To take stalk and enjoy the portrayal Of gist and...

Continue reading...

This storys old but I will tell it anyways What’s brewing is the same speech I gave myself yesterday I'm using old material And it's not even feasible! And clearly not working You can find those words between the grave and me You’ll find my scribbled ink resting at the bottom of the Alfords plea Your landscape; my world...

Continue reading...

Nonchalant Rouge By Maui Sanders Absence of affection Is not a sore ditch Film reels And family memories Even though I may not Have one In my mind, I am a warrior Who is learning How to be of an object To people on a pursuit to Win the trophy...

Continue reading...

O sunflower Helianthus thy Name The internet for Writing, strange game My love for Helianthus Annuus, came With Morning Muse. then CONFUSE-ion Not on the site, lost in cyberspace Meanwhile new cultivars of sunflower Are amazingly done in the US God be praised for flowers, that give and give Yes, an annual, dies when cold, but reseeds Itself -- feeds us good seed-- Glory...

Continue reading...

God must be playing marbles with the planets... its earths turn to be in the palm of his loving hand for millennium mankind had his chance at the loom endless wars, lust and greed is all he could weave. Now we're perched between Gods thumb and forefinger.. Soon he'll flick us to the outer edges of his patience branded a cold...

Continue reading...

you were not live died in the womb before I could hold you at birth and kiss your soul my little princess the moon in your heart that failed to beat tore the promise of peace innocence desire to walk by my side and I grieve...

Continue reading...

the sanguine pumpkin blended a cautionary tale in anticipation whipped a bit of cream and cinnamon essence into the mix and disguised her devious trickery with the fragrant candle of death vampires camouflaged as a venture-capitalists hung on to the skin counted their rewards with sweet diabolical fangs and squashed any sense of trickery as pulp met fiction and...

Continue reading...

In my younger youth, this color was sort of appalling for me. I did not fancy nails with decorations. I was not raised around it. Now I prefer to have black nails or some kind of warrior looking paint. A friend of mine asked a teacher if he could see her bare feet....

Continue reading...

"50 Words for Poe: Rouge" Rouge, sweet stains the bleeding mouth of the brain Green poison from the tongue of envy a postal note from Hell Rouge makes a bed with an enemy Knife slices the insipid pale in the bucket lies Hell's abysmal fail Rouge, dances in 3 inch sharp knives Rouge, slices lips and rips through black the widower's widow's veils Rouge Stilettos...

Continue reading...

Cambodia Prison camp S-21 Angkar kills but does not explain your blood bleeds into my veins so I can feel your pains whatever god you pray to beg for deliverance. in the good old USA we are unaware of unseen suffering. Usually but not always. we met at a wedding and you shared your story in broken English until I understood that you had been in the killing fields....

Continue reading...

The night time went rouge Wouldn't you know Stepped out of the dark Hitting the road Finding out how To weave in and out From the still of itself Without any doubt I took a-hold of the night Read it its Rights Don't come again Till after day light This sneaking you do Round about noon Really is not Very becoming of you Where upon the night said to me I can...

Continue reading...

MICE AND ME by Jeanette Jones (01.11.2016) based on PORTRAIT NO 8 L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot MICE AND ME Inside my lonely room, I dream. Old man winter’s stamped his mark across the fields and mountain tops. The faint breeze through my window, allows a brush of his presence on my face, this makes...

Continue reading...