Color Poetry
“RED”
A beating heart-
Passion.
It colors my life
Through the ink that is my blood.
I would see painted lips
Under flashing neon lights,
Fresh bricks virtually glowing
Among unwatered grass,
A drop of juice
From a strawberry bitten by a king,
And the flushed faces
Of love at first sight.
A beating heart-
Passion.
I would see blood stains on carpet
Just minutes old,
The glowing embers
Of an angry forest fire,
The once pearly eyes that lost their glow
Due to insomnia and fear,
And the unseen mental switch
From “flight” to “fight.”
A beating heart-
Passion.
I would see the way
Monochrome models turn their head,
And expose the backs
That had been against wet paint.
They’d prefer to sulk,
Their angry faces meeting the corner.
They see my paint
Like it was their blood on my hands,
From their own beating hearts,
Rather than my passion.
----
“YELLOW”
I strive not
To smile like the sun
Or to satisfy the greedy gluttons.
I prefer to stay
Under sickly skin
And behind the envied eyes
Of a wicked wolf.
I’ve struck fear, not gold.
I strive not
To be beautifully bright,
Or to follow regal brick roads-
I prefer to stray
Towards stagnant, still water
And blind those who pass,
Snacking at skin like
Corrosive sulfur.
All that glitters
Is not gold,
All that’s gold
Is not gleeful,
And all that’s gleeful
Does not glitter.
We do not jump
Towards the jaundiced.
I strive not
To smile like the sun
Or to satisfy the greedy gluttons.
I prefer to stay
Under sickly skin
And behind the envied eyes
Of a wicked wolf.
I’ve struck fear, not gold.
----
“BLUE”
Inside me there is a storm,
Filling an ocean of sadness.
Invisible to all
Is my beautiful madness.
My walls are opaque,
And my door is closed.
But there was an onlooker
Waiting.
Inside me there is a field,
Full of forget-me-nots.
They haven’t been watered,
And their stems are in knots.
The sky is cloudless
And they cannot sleep,
But there was a gardener
Waiting.
Inside me there is a demon,
Behind oceanic eyes.
It paints my soul with worn denim,
And feeds on my cries.
It created a hell
Made just for me,
But there was a miracle
Waiting.
My shell is of a robin’s egg,
My guts are computers, crashed.
It takes a beautiful heart
To see past the rash.
It takes a royal soul
To see art as I stand woefully,
To see my eyes as windows,
And to hear my words as poetry.
I felt like a lone raindrop
Doomed to fall,
But that onlooker,
That gardener,
That miracle,
Showed me that, instead,
I’m a pigmented ocean,
Vibrant and beautiful.
----
“BROWN”
Some indulge in bright,
Vibrant rainbows.
Some find peace
In pretty pastels.
What I prefer
Is the aftermath-
Of passionate fires
And coffee roasted dark.
Some get lost
In hard-hitting pigments.
Some find peace
In golden glitter.
What I prefer
Is the rich darkness-
Of melting chocolate
That I’m sinking into.
The world stares
At bright screens
Full of better lives
And false riches.
It indulges
In robotic acts
And shining chrome-
All pleasing lies.
But I prefer to stare
At a pair of eyes-
Black holes in the darkness
And sweet caramel in the light.
I would rather indulge
In a soul beyond all art,
Beyond any plot or poem’s beauty,
And beyond any price tag.
Rasping as your voice may be,
It doesn’t matter.
Continue your gorgeous stare,
Keep our windows aligned, and
You and I will leave this world.
Jewel tears rain, but they
Always magnify your soul.
Dance with me through space
Eternally.