green

she felt as though her head
were pregnant, so fertile
with ideas she could have
birthed a dynasty.
she was always two steps ahead,
or behind, or outside,
finding new ways to amaze
as the word orgasms poured
over your green weaknesses
and greener strengths.
maternal to the end she vows
in a whisper that she will be
always be there
                         to hear you roar.

yellow

he was not the messiah
but the message he spread
was so yellow with hope,
so full of yeasty supposings
that he bought everyone to
critical mass,
                      and the tipping point.
let the stars guide him
safely as the demons behind
his eyes don't hold
their power in the face of
such logic and love. he is here
so the globe of the world sits
better on all our shoulders.

white

he took an outside view
with any in-crowd, ignoring
the cinematic demons he
filled his head with numbers,
quantified life in a
new - white - order
to find his place with
the creatives. sometimes
there was an absence
of something, a dried
raindrop, but it was
his destiny to become
the ballast that weathers
any storm.

black

as she looks deep and sighs
she can see the dangers
in dark shadows,
knows the traps
of both roads travelled,
still she slowly guides
the blindfolded through
the black perils, alerting
the melancholic nightbirds
that it is always
five minutes to midnight.

blue

we are not formed by
angels but the more time
we spend in the sky, flying
through blue perspectives,
injecting the discovery
of the seasons we
dismantle the ego
to embrace the whole
keen city.
we go far from the subliminal
world of yesterday and the
maybe promises of
tomorrow, we shun
unexplained metaphors
for the power heavy
pendulum of knowledge
and compassion.

red

in a quiet night light
or in a tempest/
with a sense that
isn't literal/
when you're addicted to
the adrenalin of panic/
you witness mishaps
and disturbing practices
that are wicked
and vicious/ so
you find good reasons
for bad blood/
hide in the red/
which is the dark/
in which you feel
the infinite.