In the beginning,
the world flickered in black-and-white
shadows behaving, light staying in its lane,
stories told in grayscale grammar.
Then came the inventors,
the engineers coaxing color
out of electrons and hope.
Phosphors bloomed~
tiny red, green, blue lanterns
glowing on the inside of a glass cathedral,
each dot a seed of awe
waiting to burst open.
And suddenly
the living room became a futuristic sunrise.
Technicolor spilled across the screen
like someone had finally remembered
to turn the world back on.
Children leaned forward,
their faces lit with wonderment,
and parents whispering
that nothing would ever look the same again~
and they were right.
Because color didn’t just arrive;
it unfurled like a miracle,
bright with promise~
and we huddle together
in that warm electric glow
watching the future
teaching itself how to shine.
You may read the accompanying memoir vignette at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/technicolor_13892
They have no roots to anchor them;
Forsaken guides that steady them.
They toss and toil, burn midnight oil,
and hide the spurs that anger them.
What cast spell did paralyze?
Electric glow in fearful eyes,
From dusk to dawn, they linger on,
From standing faith to bed of lies.
Oh glory lost! How far we've strayed,
From paths of light to twilight's fade.
We've wandered blind, with sullen mind,
In weary souls' nocturnal shade.
Hark! River calls, to all who sleep,
Come plant your roots in waters deep.
There is no toil, in fertile soil,
And trust the Lord your soul to keep.
This is my translation of a Chinese poem and my own modern-day reply
Night at the River
Tang Shigu
Lonely autumn on the river
Fishermen’s lights dot the night
Lift my head to see the moon tip faint gleam upon the trees
Shore birds startled by the shimmering waves
Soon tuck their heads again in sleep
Cold dew clings damp and keeps the fireflies from flight
My response to Tang Shigu’s Night at the River
The fireflies live in books
The fishermen gone, pleasure boats trace shining lines through city lights
arranged in rows, blocks and sheets
with scant place for moonbeams, even full
Our birds know only darkness trimmed
Ignore electric glow and neon flash
Only autumn stays the same, damp and grey
With fading colours, naked trees
This constancy of the heart’s lonely sigh
There once were twelve sisters, fresh, long legged and beautiful
Clustered amongst baby's breath being featured on center stage
Day to day the attention needed waned in the settling dusty mire
Eleven sisters were lost in their glamoured celebration, all but one
Ruby in solo stands alone, surrounded by her sisters, dry, athirst
Amrs lay at their sides lifeless while each head is lowerd in prayer
Centered as if on point in a macabre ballet pose, Ruby is radiant
Starring in a magical garden dance titled, "A Mid-Summer Nightmare"
During the full moon, lunar rays spotlight her vessel-ed reservior
The stillness is broken by a haunting breeze, stirring up the dust
Slowly trickling downward over Ruby's like a mystical star conjuring
Ruby is blushing in the electric glow of a blood red magnificence
At last, dawn comes in a blistering and dry heat in the stale room
Ruby's long stem shrivels from lack of moisture, arms wilt at her side
Gracefully bowing her head, joining her eleven sisters in quiet prayer
Ruby's celebration of color, fragrance, ends her final performance...
High above the city streets
I thrash and roll and grind my teeth
At the atrocities down below.
I just can’t stand to be so near
The screams the cries the pain the fear
Of the weakness that they show.
I just look on with distaste
And prey upon the lives they waste
Shoving them on to death’s door.
They can’t refuse they can’t deny
They’ve met their end it’s time to die
So I step down and wage my war.
Mingled in the city streets
I use my hands I use my teeth
To send them all on down below.
Release the hate release the fear
I slice them all from ear to ear
And they all die in the electric glow.
Sparks and white wires
holding electric glow hands
flash the darkened gulf.
Rusty stars still shine
against the indigo night
sky wishes tattooed.
I taste each sky wish
White glitter in synapse strings
rusty, but brilliant.
Sparks and white wires
holding electric glow hands
flash the darkened gulf.
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