Stella Poems - Poems about Stella

Stella not a gal yelled for in passion but a guy passionately painting my eyes go back and forth in lines and curlicues in lighting and floral propensity irises flicker voyaging North and South East and West without rest strange fountainlike fantasy links with my mind birds intertwine vanilla egrets alongside imitate the Madonna shape or three robins rest inside a pondlike flamingo blossom then into the future battle of lights Stella the guy sees the light I seize the light ...

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where does one begin to write about you you told me that your heart is in a pretty bad shape that it is heavy with hate with loneliness and vengeance you say that “Plath” of “Ariel” is your idol and my concern is that she killed herself tell me Stella where does one begin to write about you when your mind carries such heavy...

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before you tell of the heaviness in your heart it is only natural to want to tell of mine first before you can tell of how brutally you were violated by your mom’s men who peeped through the key hole of your bedroom door whilst you were bathing Fattening their lust losing human status qualifying as demons it is only natural to want to tell first of my little incidents, of...

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at the end of the day they come to rest on my breasts men with important jobs men with issues at home who needs tissues to wipe off their shameful tears they come in different colors and needs men with timeframes to finish projects men with egos to protect, men with a lot to hide even from their loved ones they come to rest on...

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Stella by Edmund Siejka We were visiting our grandchildren And heard that one of them Was having a hard time Freeing himself from a car seat Concerned or Perhaps just a little curious I asked our four-year old granddaughter, Stella, show Grandpa how you get out of your car seat. Staring in my face with a slow full gaze Her blue grey...

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Steampunk Stella woke up in the thick of an alternative world. Colorful mechanical flowers were dancing and singing. The gold band on her top hat changed a gorgeous fuchsia pink orange poppies and fancy golden engravings adorned it now her dress had changed from black to a marvelous seafoam turquoise gold trim at the bottom was new, as was the...

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Joeuf Platini; Graf Bruhl, Stella McCartney, Paris, Too!...

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Stella was our neighbor, the weirdest girl on the block. She walked with a confidence that we could not unlock Sketching high fashion since the age of eight or ten We thought she was nuts, even way back then. No one wears a pink wedding gown or carries an umbrella. She is so oddly odd, someone said. He himself was...

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Stella was our neighbor, the weirdest girl on the block. She walked with a confidence that we could not unlock Sketching high fashion since the age of eight or ten We thought she was nuts, even way back then. No one wears a pink wedding gown or carries an umbrella. She is so oddly odd, someone said. He himself was...

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Stella was our neighbor, the weirdest girl on the block. She walked with a confidence that we could not unlock Sketching high fashion since the age of eight or ten We thought she was nuts, even way back then. No one wears a pink wedding gown or carries an umbrella. She is so oddly odd, someone said. He himself was...

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Dear Aunt Stelle, it’s nice to see you again, Here among all of your family and friends; Some of whom you haven’t seen in years, Others with whom you share daily laughs and tears. We’ve all come together from near and far To celebrate the meaning of whom you are. You’re an aunt, a grandma, and a mother, And a very close...

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Yours truly jogs his memory to write about witnessing bats appearing at twilight swooping mammals (in search of prey) quite silently whooshing thru the dusky night flitting to and fro, hither and yon across the darkening sky analogous to erratic zigzag pattern traced courtesy skittering kite resembling little black birds (think chimney sweeps) predicated espying them from height of about five feet and ten inches beautiful creature...

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To feel the curve and fullness of your hips My tongue sinking inside your pearly lips Feeling the soft hard tissue of your twins Swell of your chest promises more wins Smell of yobody floats beneath my nose Sweet fragrance of rose Wrap me in your duvet of love The only treasure I now have Bury my head in fullness of your bossom Plant...

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I am a girl named Stella, an apprentice of Yijing. My master is Luna, a beautiful woman skilled and kind. In beginning, she told me, "keep images in your mind." "What images?" , asked I and she answered, "everything." "Yijing divination is symbol-interpretation. Good fortunetellers can draw rich images from symbols. And it's also important to use images to cast symbols. From...

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Frank Stela was so postpainterly an abstractionist as you can see* emphasising 'flat surfaces' nothing more rejecting emotional gesture thats for sure *https://www.moma.org/collection/works/62336...

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