Colored Poems

ROSE COLORED GLASSES

ROSE-COLORED GLASSES
“When you think about a show that you used to watch as a kid or as a teenager, you look at it through sort of rose-colored glasses…”Jordana Brewster
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In memory’s soft glow, 
the TV screen flickers alive,
time stretches like taffy,
the theme song lingers, a melody 
transporting me through the portal of childhood.

The laughter of a

Context

Encompassing a broad range of technologies
machines to perform what would usually be
the tasks and chores for humans
concepts that form the foundations
that enable assignments and and tasks
to be performed
concepts form the very being of
artificial intelligence and it's various employment
of specific usage
it's premise was to be used as an understudy
to help the thespians study there roles
Prompt desks

Colored Stones

Colored Stones  
Topaz to yellow 
Piano to daffodils 
Emeralds to green 
Tall grass is standing 
Sapphire to blue 
Mountains are sereal 
Topaz and sapphire makes emerald 
What is your favorite colored stone? 
To wear around your neck? 
Expensive pleasures 
Many stones to choose from 
Dwell into evanescence 
Glimmering stones are captivating 
Amber to orange

In a corner of the world, under an ink-colored sky, where the earth breathes of old and longing

In a corner of the world, under an ink-colored sky, where the earth breathes of old and longing,
Lies the country once called Romania, under the shadow of a silent and ruthless siege,
The cloud of darkness slowly descends, a siege as old as the name it bears,
An art of siege that knows no end, stretching its

colored folks

Crying
Fix the damn house
She done
Paid to me
Ain’t gonna happen
When rent come?
Please don’t drag the pope across the
Carpet irish boy

Nana
He lying

Born military
Gonna die military?
Email a senator
Rejected by electricity
Suffer disgust
While Americans die
In poverty
Free speech from there
Doesn’t eclipse
Guarantee of unapproachable
Red tape

She’s sold
In the molded
Masochists lens
Her told
Isn’t the curious benign
On the frame
Her busty leers
Can she blame
Back inside her encyclopedia

Rose Colored Glasses

I like it when you place me
Up above on a pedestal 
I like how you say my name
Even my nickname with love

I like how you chase me
With persistence until I catch you 
And flood your face 
With lacy licorice kisses

I like your gentle voice 
When you ask why I 
Haven’t called at all 
That days

Rosy Granny Magic Glasses

I walked along route 58
There was Mumbai dreams and Harbor Freight
A hippie guy sold sunglasses from a stall
One had a rosy tint, I paid 5 dollars, that was all.
There was a warning label with it, I threw it away
Who needs all the fine print, what could it possibly say?

I looked at the traffic, it was

colored bulbs

shiny colored bulbs 
dangle from fresh pine needles 
christmas beauty

The Truth

Truth isnt what you think today

truth will be true tomorrow too

Truth isnt just what you feel

Its what happened, the facts, the data...

Interpreted truth is our own reality..

Our "rose colored glasses" on life

Psychiatry calls it our "filter" that we interpret the world through...

I dont know how to explain the truth in any simpler terms

To those that

Through Rose Colored Glasses

I wake at the ascension of a golden dawn
to meditate on early morning's mystique
To the amber shoreline, I'm always drawn
It's serenity and tranquility that I seek

How calm the lake's water without a ripple
On a sheet of glass, is my mirrored reflection
I seek its tranquil comfort as a babe, a nipple
To me, this is a moment

Seven-Colored Flowers

Seven-colored seeds
Are flowers reduce stress
Life's beauty succeeds.

Stand under the bon-bon colored umbrella and watch the lizard rise from the ashes

A girl who's incredibly shy,
But if she opens up, she's like a bon-bon,
So colorful and exciting,
Her friends help her fly,

Another young lass,
Who will let you stand under her umbrella,
When your feeling down or lost,
But watch out for her sass,

Again another lady, yes,
Who needs encouraging and support,
Her friends stand behind her and say;
You will never be

blue colored glasses

I had heard of rose-colored glasses
But this old man was sitting in the middle of flowers
Wearing blue-colored glasses
As rosy as any hippie I had met

He only sees the good in people
Flowers adore him
They pop out of the earth and surround him
Wherever he goes

He has an ambiance few others have
I stared at the old crone
Disbelieving her

Colored pencils

drawing the new day
mixing the dark with the brights
sign your horizon

Multi colored sunset

descending colors 
falling from sky into lake 
closing of the day

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