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.