I spoke to silence once; it became my interlocutor—
in an incongruous sunset, January:
gold transmuting to red, saffron-orange
then to violet
the color grief contracts to
pressed through winter's
alchemical
sieve—
the colour that comes before silence.
Loneliness is pigmented.
Sky renders loss—light waning.
grey restless sleep
Life becomes weighted
as stones are placed upon the backs of men,
till they bend.
Pain from the weight makes us curse
pain makes us pray-pray away.
Pain welds a frown to the face.
Eventually friends will all go away.
Nobody likes to breathe in another's pain.
A smile is a pigmented trough
where nuggets of life are often caught
shining like God's cavity and everything is ok
until the next wave takes the nuggets away.
Life is weighted.
Even in death, they weigh your name with stones
which is forgotten by the weight of time-
In time your name fades away
into the cool blue shadow of forgotten.
Life and living are heavily weighted.
Indiscriminate bombardment will flow
with endless pigmented possibilities;
A cross of Penelope pop-socks and indigo;
Abstruse, the two primary colors;
It must be that brush of butterfly effect
the wild one pulled from under the covers;
Intangible to all but the one who strokes
the canvas with bubbling neon flames;
A smeared showpiece each drop stokes;
Quilted texture of poodle-prairie red
dances with lines of earthy caveman;
Stimulated Muse taunted, empowered;
Passion-ridden poppy colored hands
leave only the most elegant stain;
That backsplash born of bold badlands;
Lush hues of whimsical rain pour out
exiting the smallest tube on the table;
Children’s daydreams fall from it’s spout;
Behind perfectionism a child will lurk,
screaming at you to relax and have fun;
Who cares if it is pristine or patchwork?
Pigmented leather, indeed, make sure it is clean of belongings,
especially bodies with clothes. Search overhead and underneath
for the precious tots. Leave no one behind. Search arduously.
Though the time spent bores you to tears, you’d be wrung out
if you forget to do your spot check. Then forever after you’ll ride
that bus, in daydreams and nightmares, always searching. Search!
Skin Deep
Tissue,pigmented black,brown or white,
All equal in the creator's sight;
However shaded,each membrane kin,
Merely a cover,layered thin.
Purely an accident of birth,
Never a value of our worth;
Customs,culture our true divide,
Ignorance its willing guide.
Tastes,mores,attitudes
Provoking reponses,crude and rude;
Manners,conventions,traditional ties,
The crux upon which all difference lies.
Repercussion and backlash,we reap
If our thinking stays skin deep.
You blankly stated,
On which I write my thoughts
Some of them are strong and bold
While others are soft and polite.
You are my canvas,
Landing tall at ten fleeting doves
I splash colored oiled pigments
Here and there and down our halls
You can see it down on our walls.
The brush strokes it on through,
The pigmented oils of
The hair hues of blue
They've painted.
Hair waiving through line after line.
With shade after shade
As if the ink was there.
The space animated. The place migrated.
The taste of possibility, pigmented,
invisibly, orientated by shifting atmosphere,
arousal, of fickled nothingness'?
impregnated?
I was born on a hazy frosty morn,
when the dawn cast beautiful lilac hues;
a veil of this tint I have always worn,
it is my ambience, aura and muse !
Love all the stained trees with my fav' colour,
the tree tapestries hand painted by God;
scenes pigmented sublime in tricolour,
I breathe in essence- his work never flawed !
I am inspired to pen great poesy,
to paint words in divine saturation;
contemplating each line of poesy
for muse and my life is all elation !
I adore these tints and pigmentations;
this season that inspire my creations !
Can I just,
Take a look,
At the back
Of the linen
I sew
And the pockets i made
Nd the memories new
With some frnds nd some lies
Nd some things that i knew
Intended things that i did...
With the patterns of dew
With some beautiful color
Nd the lines and the curves
Some pigmented smile
Nd little showed the truth
The fragments were shred
Nd the threads being shed
Nd then i drowned it in water
Nd stitched what was left
No opens no closure no itsy bitsy threads.
.no shreds no pieces no drops are left ....
Its cosmic ..divine...it's out of the world...
Sewing with love this magic of words
I took every piece nd took every shred....
Created a very beautiful spread...
I matched it with linen ..Nd added it in .....
Casements are oozing... brighteness nd light ...
Of that power that just came to lifee..
Nd is it me
.It is me ..what is quite pretty fine ...
Nd then i wore that linen
Nd it let me be me ..
What i wanted to be ...
Tears embedded
three ring delight
Star-crossed harlequins
pigmented fright
Echoes of laughter
masking false smiles
Greasepainted fantasy
—clowns in denial
(The New Room: July, 2022)
Arrayed with a colorful spectrum that can camouflage
Imagine a butterfly’s life as it silently flutters in flight
Watching her solo or in a multi-pigmented entourage
Your eyes behold her until she disappears from sight
The sunlight reflected her clarity as a shooting star
Wings are so fragile that you dare not touch them
Only a handful of kaleidoscopic creatures match her
She’s brilliant as a stained-glass window or a diadem
The change from larva to butterfly happens as she hurls
A conversion was formed in secret, incredible to behold
She cannot soar until her magnificent new wings unfurl
As she seeks safe shelter from the fierce wind, so bold
Look at how the queen butterfly spreads her wingspan
For a moment, she became aware of her life expectancy
Not just a pretty face from God’s psychedelic spray can
She knows she has to mate with no concern for intimacy
This enchanting transformation gracefully embellishes the earth
An enchanting, delicate species that is admired for its confidence
An enchanted, transformed body yields shortly after giving birth
A gift that brings immense joy carries a rather sorrowful existence
my country tis of thee
allow me to speak unapologetically
courageous and daring in my
dark brown discriminated skin
nine ether curls, i smirkishly grin
residing in country in a state of not enough love
exerting way too much hate
incapable of properly correcting sin
people lost and confused
where does one begin
why can't we all be judged for what's within
sweet land of liberty what is happenin'
i sing of thee
breaking chains of mental slavery
i've never witness such inequality
what has, will have been
isn't it up to us to exalt honor and self-discipline
my country tis of thee
i speak unapologetically
walking with my head high respectively
land where my ancestors fought and died
land where the descendants took pride
odd, but threatening to some is
my pigmented skin and my stride
i have nothing to hide
science teaches there's always light to the dark side
are all women and men not born free
my country tis of thee
sweet land, what happened to your liberty
i sing of thee
freedom will ring
i sing
Do we not all deserve the sanctity of a blessed and joyous life?
Instead we carry common wounds from the powerful racial knife-
Are we unworthy of intrinsic, sacred, unconditional love?
Hated for our pigmented flesh that the vultures pray on from above-
Do we truly have a voice, preaching freedom from a concealed cage?
Locked up by self-appointed Gods, driven by power, hatred, and rage-
How many more generations will suffer terror, torture, and tyranny?
Silenced and shackled beasts, while wearily fighting for well-deserved dignity-
Who is stronger in character the vulture or the beast?
Buzzing over lifeless carcasses, in search for the next feast-
Do they see the flood of tears, seeping over the bodies buried 6 feet deep?
Families broken and scarred for life, having to accept unjustified defeat-
Have we cracked the narcissistic ego, fighting for peace and demanding equality?
Boldness is the rebuttal, too proud and conceited to ever acquire humility-
When will the corruption, brutality and cover ups cease from heartless men?
Was this the result of hollow promises, in making America great again?
A sky-bow
pastel light rays,
pigmented by clouds;
a canvas of light.
Gradient echoes filtering
from stratospheric crystal;
embracing curvature,
terra-forma.
Polychrome lamp
riding world’s edge
to infinity’s lair;
ascending...descending,
half moon crest.
A lemon-cherry,
orange and grape
smoothie, blending
in the heavens.
My soul bleeds into
passion pinks
elation oranges
pulling me up to
highest heights
of tranquility.
We meld...
A sky-bow
pastel light rays,
pigmented by clouds;
a canvas of light.
Gradient echoes filtering
from stratospheric crystal;
embracing curvature,
terra-forma.
Polychrome lamp
riding world’s edge
to infinity’s lair;
ascending...descending,
half moon crest.
A lemon-cherry,
orange and grape
smoothie, blending
in the heavens.
My soul bleeds into
passion pinks
elation oranges
pulling me up to
highest heights
of tranquility.
We meld...
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