AN ALLITERATIVE QUATRAIN
could centralised cardiographic cascade competitively colorize complaisant casement
from flavourful facultative fiendish fission find fortuitousness favor
ruling : restively rhythmic reading reflectorise restorative respite
shrewdly sidearm saddleback spat submerse scatter sycophantic saporous sioux spirits sextant
iconic sunrise
I wear no disguise,
really.
as do butterflies,
earth, I colorize
freely.
golden moon full-size
lulls school bus allies
briefly.
“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma
As also this dopamine boosting flavour I taste
I surrender all pleasures to the dweller of my heart
Breath by breath thus that my soul presence be chaste”
Whether it's perked or left to drip
I drink coffee after I quip,
"Cool enough not to burn my lip."
Ahh... that first sip Ahh... that first sip
A spoon of sugar, splash of cream
Aroma woke me from a dream
From the cup rises vapor steam
In sunlight's gleam In sunlight's gleam
My eyes savor the morning scene
More than the flavor of caffein
I hear songbirds as they convene
Their songs serene Their songs serene
I'm content after yawns and sighs
Enjoying a cup at sunrise
As dawn chooses to colorize
Aurora skies Aurora skies
I recognize God's hand in this
Reminding me not to dismiss
These moments as if nature's kiss
A time of bliss A time of bliss
My cup and sunlight keep me warm
Daybreak serves as a tranquil balm
Reading scripture nurtures my calm
A hallowed psalm A hallowed psalm
Their sky is blue,
As the calmness they seek
Their blood is red,
Igniting pugnacious determination to survive
Their sun is yellow
Ever glowing golden ray of nurture
Their forests are green
Overlapping shrubs of mystery stirring curiosity
Their hearts are violet,
Like a bowlful of sweet yet sour grapes
They are individuals
Nothing more and nothing less
They are me, you and all of us
We are painters who colorize imagination
Revealing the spectrum of life.
Juliet Tun
September 2000
I am an artist who loves the brightest of fluorescent paints
none of the colors known on earth could have created today’s colors.
The Master loaned me this day; one of His greatest canvases.
I recognized His hand instantly in the verdent green and azure sky
I had heard of azure skies, but this was brilliant, periwinkle
my heart filled with gratitude for a day I will never be able to retrieve
I took out my I-phone and snapped photos for an hour
None did today justice; there is only One who can colorize like this
My bike might be a bit wobbly and my legs a tiny bit shaky
But my heart is overflowing with love for this road on this day.
Camouflage me quickly the fowl yelled as he landed.
Did not know who he was, but we ran out with paints - blue and red.
Can we colorize your feathers asked our leader, Mrs. Banded.
Do what you must to keep me away from the broiler, he said.
What are you talking about? Asked our naïve chicks of yellow.
With one warning look, he shushed his mouth, a wiser fellow.
What did he mean, dad? My chicks asked me that night.
I have no idea, I told them. I tucked them in, their eyes big and bright.
I want them to stay young and innocent as long as I can.
There will be plenty of time to ruin their dreams, agreed Mr sandman.
We decided to take a walk.
If the moon and stars still existed,
they were hidden behind clouds.
Then a fog hit us like a wave, a cloud
that had run out of gas and crashed on us,
to further shrink the perceptible world.
Ordinary, walking people became vague
phantoms that could loom, in film noir
black and white out of the fog,
suddenly sharpen and colorize,
only to disappear again in moments.
Sounds, out of sync, or garbled, came sharply
from odd angles, turning that fifth sense unreliable.
Noises, at first muted, were abruptly amplified as
if the hand of that ghostly vapor ran a soundboard.
A man, moving in stalker-like silence, clops,
like a clydesdale on cobblestone as he passes close.
I half expected a distant fog horn to announce
the passing of a ghost ship where all be welcome.
Dew christens morning grass underneath my feet
Chilled senses in the mist, fill of something sweet
Sun teases its reveal, tempting me to pause
Palms in a flurried rush offer their applause
Feathered friends of every sort wing a little wink
Chirpers as they like to sing, hush to take a drink
Touching, as I stop to chat, flowers in a cart
Lending ear to neighbor’s woes, bid to touch my heart
As I walk the paths and trails that colorize my town
I could not for even just one second, wear a frown
Skies of blue agreeable to nature’s every whim
Compliment a crystal lake inviting me to swim
On my walk each morning, as I begin to shine
First remember gratitude for everything that’s mine
Then as every morning joy furthers into view
Better am I able to love everything I do
In a shadowy sphere
a girl flaunt her beautiful faces
to the pallid look of the sun
- rolling blackout.
A sweet reminder of her refulgency
waxing from waning.
Girls are roses
Purple roses
with scents of cherubic
that effuses blissfulness;
heaving and glamorizing
haunting and hunting in sublime beauty.
Fine inflorescences
that lay in the garden-
budding into a woman
to grace her man.
All flirting out in packs
& springing into chic's-
sexy mortals indeed!
Roseate glow
to her blushful beau
that staggers to her cave.
An empyrean dish
carved out from Eden;
strumming the sacred calling of motherhood.
These there love are territorial!
A youthful maiden
that visualize a woman
into something they can enchant,
aiming for a transition
with little or greater expectations from her family.
Girls are roses
Untamed roses with enough concoctions
perfectly crafted to colorize the universe,
but still they're envious
& are weigh down by too many indifferences
from opposite sex.
A jealous mortals indeed.
Vernal equinox lift, sun rays colorize Spring with its magic wand. Bare branches and cold soil, warms to its touch. Irises, like a net looking for butterflies, catch reds, whites, blues and every green bud unfurling. The cerulean sky brighter, the watercan-rain bringing up earth’s babies. Seasonal rebirth. Laud of robins, coo of wintersnow doves, murmuration of starlings — wings land on olive branch. We shout, “Alive! Alive!” We thrive in the trill of adventure, the hope of eternal resurrection.
butterflies in net
the whole world in kindly hands
irises twinkle
4/3/21
Springtime Haibun
Sponsor: M.L. Kiser
If the color blue was sad
Would it be black?
If the black lost it’s color
Would it be white?
If white married lavender purple
Would it too, be blue?
What about brown and yellow
What’s procreations due, would the children be orange
For what’s at stake;
The color spectrum
Rainbows and crayons
Would it be black, if it’s midnight?
Would it rain blue, if the water falls?
What am I to do, if I’m blind with no vision?
You see the lavender purple people
Have painted themselves into the corner of the room
The lights are turned off
And black is in full bloom
Colorize…………..
12/5/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
The Wizard: Oh, you liquidated her, eh? Very Resourceful.
(Quote from 1939 The Wizard of Oz)
LIQUIDATION OF A DREAM
Oz dreamt Dorothy —
waters never melted witch
monkeys buzz like flies
the trio ne’er met —
no brain, heart nor courage found
tears of rusted tin
ruby nor silver
slippers colorize the land
— monochrome wizard
monotone munchkins
slaves to the emerald sky
— Glinda’s been vanquished
12/23/2018
Bimbo sails a boat and bumps into Betty Boop,
she flaunts her flashy flesh landing on the fresh Isle,
hostile trees harass the two harbingers as they fear,
sickly savages come to scare them away in style.
Betty’s black and white films from the bopping thirties,
aroused critics during the ages of antique movies,
she came alive clearly in the sixties with colored cartoons,
showing off her skin so soft with big ol’ boobies.
An icon for the ages remembered for ancient humor,
shades and hues added to accent the animation,
entertainment industry included her in the top ten idols,
bippity boppity Betty Boop became a television sensation.
Imagination of creation with an addition of cinemation,
in the end of the film Bimbo and Betty were able to get away,
saved each other from the savages they finally sailed home,
each motion picture planted plenty of pleasure even until today.
* I had no idea what to do for this contest, but I thought I would give it a try! lol*
Colorize The Classics
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
October 23, 2016
She was created of earth's lusty marrow,
lived amidst chimera and heather fields
breathing Byron essence & Dickinson fire,
there was madness in the poetry of her life
an atmosphere favorably self-aware
mundane was ne'er her cup of fancy
In death, she was found to be quite lucid
'tween exiled days and windswept expanses
of untrodden woodlands & lone seascapes,
perchance glimpse her twilit ambiance
whispering beyond breezes of conclusive
horizons void of derived worldly silhouettes
COLORIZE THE CLASSICS contest 10/2/16
A classic that I love is Gone With The Wind,
the sweeping historical epic,
full of romance and facts of history.
It tells the story of the southern belle, Scarlet,
daughter of a cotton plantation owner,
Oh, the tangled love affairs she had,
her secret lover Ashley and the dashing Rhett.
Breathtaking visually with striking images,
I think directors are like painters creating.
oh, lets go back to the movie now, the war rages.
But through war, destruction, poverty and death,
even the loss of her child,
Scarlet, from spoiled belle to strength,
inspired me so much, the girl in satin dresses,
in one scene in rags, she vows to God, her words.
"As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!"
She stands holding the earth of Tara,
in her hands and looks to the sky.
And in the very end- after Rhett rejects her
she says, "I'll think about that tomorrow . . ."
_______________________________
October 4, 2016
Poetry/Narrative/Colorize The Classics
Copyright Protected, ID 16-835-521-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Colorize The Classics,
sponsor, Kim Rodrigues
Third Place
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.