Short Neons Poems

Dark wide sign board,
Blinking green neons-
Glow Worms!...

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cannot get hair teased any higher?
Okay then, let’s spray it with color.
Neons are good, we are heading toward the skate barn.
You look punky, woman, in the zone...

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I am in love with my own art
cartoons painted in neons
that show up under black lights

also in love with music
classical, folk, jazz, seventies,
sixties, forties, gospel....

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crows conjuring curious witches
cauldrons containing concoctions I concur with
elegance in ebony, elusive and alluring
sensuous in satin, sassy and scintillating
chosen for every painting I do
to offset the hot pinks and neons
to outline and exude and uplift
refined, respectable and reassuring...

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To everything..
Turn, turn, turn
Standing upon this ledges edge
Uncovered as peering amid
The city lights below
Biopsies water colours..
Moments splashed about
This vestige of neons
Dissecting organisms hues called life ?
Time, seeking purlieu sorties
Reasons incised..
Lifted from the palette
Of brushed; their rhyme....

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a lone star in the sky is what you see 
blinded by the lure of the city

window shining the spree of shopping
neons begging to make the scene

buildings trying to reach the mighty
nonsense say the star surrounded with twinkles

as in the dark it shines in a multitude of cosmic laughs
looking at you dragging your laundry to be washed....

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I will die eagerly, 
ready to go, 
surrounded by neons
faeries, elves, imps

I will die happily, 
in my own way
lying next to my garden
surrounded by orbs

I will die gracefully,
gladly and fully ready
adoring the heavenly
ancestors who come fetch me.

I will die with a smile 
remembering my phenomenal 
fantastic make believe world
my family, and my friends....

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I am a cartoonist, a painter, a clandescent poet.
I paint in neons – pinks, greens, yellows and blues.
The background is sometimes done up in purple before I know it.
I start with the skin color, making it a variety of hues.
Beige might work for others, but I use coppers, silvers and pink.
I throw in some oranges every time I do think.
For I am an artist, a painter, a poet.
Colors are everything, don’t you know it?...

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To everything turn, turn, turn ~

Standing upon the ledges edge; uncovered

As peering about her city lights below?!

Gathering in biopsies water colours

Moments splashed atop their vestige be neons

Dissecting organisms called life; time

Seeking purlieu sorties reasons incised!?

Lifted, from his palette of brushed; this rhyme....

========================================

.."SwitchBlade" *...

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To everything turn, turn, turn ~

Standing upon this ledges edge; uncovered

As peering amid the city lights below?!

Gathering in biopsies water colours....

Moments splashed upon the vestige of neons

Dissecting organisms called life; time

Seeking purlieu sorties reasons incised!?

Lifted from the palette of brushed; this rhyme....

========================================

...."SwitchBlade" ~...

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Down below, the lights of the night traffic
         subtly tint and tinge the wide, damp window
                    whose glass broods cold, mutely enigmatic.


         But although its sullen, graphite grayness
                    is never a part of the glass itself,
                              no amount of dusting darkens it less.


                    Like a museum pane of years olden,
         it looks down on the throbbing avenue
as pizza neons tarnish it golden!...

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The pinnacle of justice

A wing

Uplifted by the positve

Dispositioned by the negative

sciences creation of

complete wild madness

stacked against

odds in war

though never just for fun

a battle royale

with no

winner

the

neons

against

the dulls

For justice

a provocations new

restoration

from the recreation of

a darkness to a light

a conceited

worlds

pinnacle of Justice

to the remnants of a 

worlds new Light

the pinnacle...

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