I find a box of crayons on a desk.
At different colors I take a look.
I think of each color as picaresque -
as something or somebody in a book.
Three blues I see, such as blue-violet.
Blue-green might be a sailor’s home at sea.
Blue-violet could be a girl he’d met.
Purple is sky darkened, making him flee.
Although their passion had been orange-red -
black became his heart. He left love behind.
The girl’s heart, carnation pink, feels brown dead.
The cheer of yellow I now need to find.
I’ll draw a sun, and yellow I will use.
These dreamy crayons have too many blues.
Categories:
picaresque, fantasy,
Form: Sonnet
AS I GAZE AT THE STAR-CROSSED SKY
I AGAIN RE-LIVE MY PICARESQUE
OF BOUNDLESS JOURNEYS WITH THE PEERESS
SEVEN SEAS I CROSSED FOR YOU
I REMEMBER YOU PICTURE-PERFECT
JUST LIKE'D PAINTINGS REMEMBER ITS ARTIST
YOU ALWAYS DID ABOUND IN MYSTERY
A GODDESS OF UNCERTAINTY
WHEN THE NYMPH AIDED THE WRECKAGE
YOU WERE THERE
WHEN LIFE PAID ME NO WAGE
YOU STILL WERE THERE
EVEN NOW THAT I SPEAK IN NO WORDS
AND YOU RATTLE STILL IN VIOLENCE
AS YOU RULE THE NIGHT STARS
I KNOW YOU REMEMBER, EVEN IN YOUR SILENCE
Categories:
picaresque, allusion, beauty, memory, nature,
Form: Quatrain
AS I GAZE AT THE STAR-CROSSED SKY
I AGAIN RE-LIVE MY PICARESQUE
OF BOUNDLESS JOURNEYS WITH THE PEERESS
SEVEN SEAS I CROSSED FOR YOU
I REMEMBER YOU PICTURE-PERFECT
JUST LIKE'D PAINTINGS REMEMBER ITS ARTIST
YOU ALWAYS DID ABOUND IN MYSTERY
A GODDESS OF UNCERTAINTY
WHEN THE NYMPH AIDED THE WRECKAGE
YOU WERE THERE
WHEN LIFE PAID ME NO WAGE
YOU STILL WERE THERE
EVEN NOW THAT I SPEAK IN NO WORDS
AND YOU RATTLE STILL IN VIOLENCE
AS YOU RULE THE NIGHT STARS
I KNOW YOU REMEMBER, EVEN IN YOUR SILENCE
Categories:
picaresque, allusion, beauty, memory, nature,
Form: Quatrain
I.
Whitening sands upmirror desert glare,
Glinting, underneath my mind’s burnt sun…
Paling, dream expanse.
And there I wander, rootless in some Netherwhere—
Mental vagabond, my trek begun…
Picaresque romance!
II.
Whitening bones appear by poison springs,
Dread oasis, tempting me to drink.
Shining, silver pool,
Mirage aglow. A maiden floats on glassine wings—
Beckoning me toward the toxic sink.
Reckless, I sip cool
Blighted waters. Thirsty fool.
Categories:
picaresque, adventureme,
Form: Verse