Poems about red

Sweet, juicy, crunchy apples;
Dark red roses
With petals as soft as love's sensitive skin.

(And black poison. )
(And black thorns. )

Good.
Bad.
A very thin line.

A hand rises out of the scarlet misery
Saving grace, leaving trace
Pull it out
I see this crimson horror
In lieu of my salvation
Deception and Duplicity
I try to pull but it consolidates its hold on me
And it's me drowning in the red pool

Some people get
Half a heart
Tattooed
On the edge
Of their wrists
That come together
To spell
Something symbolic -
Greater than themselves -
A gesture of love,
Perhaps.
This red chair
Is my half heart -
An identical pair
Sitting several miles apart.
Each parked
At something sacred -
Symbolic
Of the love for
Something -
Greater than ourselves -
Our work
And all it validates,
- the divine power
To create.

He sat gripping his beer bottle in one hand
And a pen in the other, tapping it repetitively
On the open notebook before him.

That's when a little red-haired squeeze
Came in and sat beside him, grazing his leg
With hers as she ordered her mixer.

She saw the great potential for love in his eyes
And started questioning his mind accordingly.
Seeking his essence, searching his being.

Yet he never shifted his gaze from the lined paper,
And answered all of her inquisitions without hesitation
Because he knew what she wanted.

But she shifted closer to him and started to speak under
Her breath, asking him if he has a woman waiting for him
At home. Asking more than her words implied.

His knuckles whitened and tightened around the green glass,
And the pen started tapping faster and faster on the unwritten
Words upon the empty sheets.

She put her hand on his forearm and the tapping ceased
As blood red mist started fogging his already blurred vision,
Seeing crimson, he ripped his eyes from the blank pages.

The bottle shattered and broken glass sank into his palm,
The pen erupted painting his calloused fingers black.
He turned and faced this intruder.

"Please leave me alone now, " he spits into her frightened face,
And the crimson fog covers his sight completely, as his thirst is
Sparked, ignited, and begins burning furiously.

He slams his eyelids shut and searches for Arlo's words,
Searches for Arlo's eyes in his mind.
Searches and searches for her heart.

He massages his temples and counts his breaths.
He fights for his sanity in the face of doubt and intolerance.
He just wants his dear to be here...
He sighs and opens his eyes.

And he's alone again.

A swig here
An intake there
All it takes
Is one more
Thought
To consume
My mind
And envelop
My heart

I bought you
A bottle of
Red wine that
You never
Tasted. It's
Corked in the
Back of my
Car and I
Know that
You never
Will.

That summer dawned with fire in its heart.
Its eyes cried with moonlight and the dreams of the night,
So soft in their whispers and their catastrophes.
The sky burned bright with vivacity redder than the earth
And the drums of war rang out.

The red sprung forth in rivers on her cheeks
As she watched the men go silently into the sun;
Their eyes gleamed with glory and the soles of their shoes
With some sort of victory
They might soon be able to grasp between their fingertips.

And too, their bodies would be christened
With the sinuous springs of scarlet
There would be no hands with palms of tenderness
To wipe the salty tears from their bloodstained eyes
So that they may see the glorious fields of wheat,
And flowers (heads pointed to the sun)-
So that they may have a last glimpse of beauty
On a summer morn

If only i had money maybe i could save some more
Lonely we are hoping on a prayer we know's ignored
Living isn't cheap believe me soon i hope you see
Giving missing meaning - quit me, leave me losing sleep
Only if 'if only' wasn't just a bold excuse
Surely i can float us on this wage that i abuse
Rarely does she notice what i do to keep us fed
Finally it got to me - everything unsaid i said