Atef Ayadi | + Follow Poet |
Romanticism | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Colors' Hysteria

They come scrambling, 
Racing, 
Competing, 
And 
Praising each other; 
Like people in a big town; 
Competition is always hostile. 
They entered 
The white canvas 
From the four corners; 
Few from the sides. 
They came 
Yelling 
And cheering. 
They invaded the canvas 
Like the Romans entered the gates of 
Jerusalem; 
Like Eileen entered me. 
With the same love and 
The same human rhetoric. 

Colors came first, 
Then a wave of forms 
Followed them; 
Like the Olympics’ opening. 
I am the only 
Public, 
The canvas is an unwelcome 
And unfinished 
Stadium. 
Both colors and forms 
Started to draw 
Patterns 
And metaphors. 

I can see Eileen’s name, 
I can see Eileen’s face, 
I can see Eileen’s smile too, 
Building up, 
Drop by drop; 
I can see Eileen 
Laying down 
Along the canvas 
With her smile of orange 
Then, Standing upl; 
She glanced at me 
Then, she walked away. 

Colors, ink 
And water 
Shake hands 
And embrace each other 
It is really a human scene, ... 
Human feast. 
Some colors 
Clash against a few forms 
Others get a long 
Naturally; 
Others were 
In a rush 
Vanished; 
A dozen were just watching the scene 
Only one color is acting 
Exactly like Eileen. 

I never predicted 
How the canvas was going 
To look like 
I never judged the painting 
‘Cause it always triggers 
My desire 
For Eileen. 

My colors are my words; 
My words are Eileen; 
Eileen is the sun 
The sun rises 
I feel worm. 
Eileen is warm too, 
And then she runs; 
Eileen always runs 
when she is warm. 

The canvas 
Is almost done. 
The colors are exhausted, 
The forms are drunk, 
And I am sober. 
The blue sky is there, 
Some squared doors 
And windows 
In red, 
Blue, and 
Pink 
Are open 
To let the air 
Circulating 
And rejuvenate 
The sad fireplace. 

The painting is done. 
I called the painting 
Smiling Eileen.

Please Login to post a comment