Short Off White Poems

We know it's not true
'Cause white's dirty anyway!
What is purity?...

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snow's mirror image 
moons glow reflects off white snow 
picture perfect scene...

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“Thieves” Ben Franklin said….
Supple off white feathered head
Talons dripping red...

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Bishop

Clad in off white man
In charge of religion world wide
Trying to save the world...

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Bishop

Clad in off white man
In charge of religion world wide
Trying to save the world...

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I’ve always found a beauty in it
 
The creases that lay like clumsy limbs
 
Corners of gowns coming unashamedly away
 
From the cotton skin
 
All proud in its off-white softness...

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There's more love in a bottle of gin than some men's whole body. 
A taste of the ever clear cleanse unkind words for a moment
Instead of being Snow White she's now off white impaled by love...

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There it stood
in its bright
off-white shape;
head held in perfection
by its firmed neck.

A proud mushroom,
signaling the transition
of summer into fall.

Beneath its shade,
little black ants
scurried to and fro....

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Magnified is this cloudless sky
with nothing unseen or seen.

Yet, there, spotted; a spot
in the faraway,
a puff of off-white tracery,
a hint of cloudiness,

and yet
so perfectly placed,

an eloquent flaw
in this amplitude of
clearest blue....

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Silent
           the mowers
in 
Spring
                   gardens
awash
           with April
rain
                   forlorn
the days-eye
off-white
half-open
                     morn
wistful
           waiting
a
warm
                 dawn
I
doze and
dream
                  of
                  you...

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Goodbye sheets of dingy off-white
Spheres piercing heaven's stairs
Spheres seated as devil's crown
Faceless faces
Cursed before solid ground
Trees shudder
Sensing you're out of bounds.

Goodbye pupils praising evil
Each dumb orb features fright
Sun, moon, stars, look on, appalled
White pseudo might
Cured only by conscience
It can thrive
Pay homage to rainbows.

*...

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sweating snow, travel
a go?  heavenly flakes
fluttering, stimulating, drawing
attention to themselves

cockapoo doesn’t sweat
his tail, sweep
sweep,sweep

his black coal nose nuzzles
the glorious landscape
slowly inches, back
to hearth and home

idly i stare, through off-white
curtains - they seemed white
yesterday; today
a go? impact:
will we head home…

Nov 2022...

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This reflection in the mirror has captured
Years of thought and wrinkles of labor
While the hair reseeds and turns off white
I think of years of delight with love in the moonlight
With only this one reflection I stand alone
Wanting to see your reflection in this mirror of lost love

Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
Contest: Reflect That Emotion
Date Created: 02/20/2019
Judged N/A...

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I recall everything in off-white detail;
the days are caught in slow grinding cogs.

This past year is already all ground-up
as fine as any mince of hope,
a dish that will be served tomorrow,
cold
and tomorrow is shut mouthed
and speaks not.

Nevertheless I will peer
over the rim of past nightmares,
pray for peace and sanity
somewhere, anywhere,
almost not daring to breathe....

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There must be a wall there,
electric eels scribble upon it,
and rabid are the holes
that go deep into words.

Those words wrote themselves,
they must have climbed over the wall
leaving off-white snail smears
travelling at light speed.

I am done speaking of it,
of this writing
that demands to be dug into silence,
at least
until and when
that next inexplicable moment
learns to speak for itself....

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Shattered, busted
Broken pieces
Sinner, lusted
Crisco creases

White noise
High pitched screams
Girly boys
Wet dreams

Blood red stains
Off white gown
Pistol rings
Chalk on ground

Lethal needles
Veins blown
Better feels
Than being stoned

Strip club love
STDs
Ketamine rub 
Nose bleeds

Masked face
Girl at gunpoint
Steps retraced
Blow this joint

Hep C
Painted skin
Deadly
Seven sins...

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6/6/12
 
I've unfolded you upon a screen
But what I see is confusing
All of what I know is gone
Has fled from the life of this scene

Your light has darkened into off-white
And my mind is raking in doubt
Everything on the outside is erased
Has sadly taken flight

You are perfectly displayed
Nothing dislocated, disclosed, dismayed
You are perfectly X-rayed
But some rays have gone astray

You appears as you are
And always will be...

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The melt trickles off to the creek bed
pure white has up and disappeared
green grasses grow into the forefront
leading to where tenderness' been bared

Hot flames flicker with the innocence
covers uncovered in a big ball of trust
red lips painted in sweet cherry wine
hearts are left lying without wanderlust

Into the spring we stretch out our reach
blooming alongside all nature's glory
revealing our skin, soaking in sunshine
writing new chapters in life's love story...

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Barely a month goes by,
Where I'm not here,
Chest pressed against stained wood panels.
Neck bent, mock swan,
Over the cold, off white, plastic rim.

There is a chemical sting,
In the corners of my eyes,
And in my nose.

Before me is a blurred film of colour,
And it's weeping.

Sometimes sunlight,
Sometimes blood,
Today, darkness.

Dark pools of the future,
Swirl in the bottom of the bath,
Before dribbling nonchalantly down the drain.

Today is easy.
Today is black....

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It is our god that gives us life
He brings us comfort in times of pain
And even pride among our peers.
He does not ask, we freely give
Our time, our money, our sense of being
Shameless nights we share with him
Secrets of a life unseen
Words unspoken -Bold as ink
None can see my god and me
He seems so tough, hard to relate
But he has blessed me to create
From distance he is like all else.
When eyes peer deeper, as close as mine
His off white beauty calls aloud,
“Moleskinne”...

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Disney has transformed,
now it is a zombie cartoon
for underachievers.

The art of being artful is the thing now.

Some propagandize, many would sell
your thoughts to slave traders.
A reasonable madness still masks
ulterior motives.

Micky the Mouse pimps out
tickets to the saddest place,
while it paints a childish face
happy.

The upside down nature
of a destitute culture
is a rush of blood to the head,

a mind laboratory
where gender is delivered
to a broken womb....

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She climbed the hill of daffadils, her hips held a sway. The mountain laurels were in bloom, this bright sunny day. Meandering thru the forest the soft moss felt so light, she suddenly discovered a lovely mushroom site. She was quite happy with her find, the village of mushrooms surrounded by pines. They were off white,   matsutake, if I gather several pounds, how much will they pay? The morel of this story is really not profound, as long as your still on this earth be sure to look around....

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