Tag Archives: Color

Of Birds and… Other Stuff

The sun was a brilliant scarlet

Upon the rustling brush,

Redder than a hemorrhoid

Who’s asking out its crush.

Within the brush are little jays,

Their feathers dark and blue

Much like the mood experienced

When one eats eyeball stew.

The birds were eating insects

So tiny and so green

Like little child soldiers

Or polytetrafluoroethylene.

The birds, thus having eaten

Flew off to sunset orange.

Alas, this leaves no conclusive rhyme

But judging by the imagery of previous examples, I doubt you’re disappointed.

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The Other Primary Color

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

And yellow’s just like

“Wut dawg? U trippin’ bro?

“Violets are fuckin’ purple,

“And just ’cause I don’t rhyme easily

“Y’all just acting like dandelions and sunflowers and poppies and buttercups and, oh yeah yellow roses, don’t exist?

“Naw dawg, whatever. I’m out.”

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Evening Meditation

As the light fades to yellow

And to bright orangey-red

I summon my thoughts

About life to my head.

As red turns to green

Like autumn reversed

I think of life’s moments,

The best and the worst.

As green turns to amber

The cycle repeats

And I cherish life’s beauty,

The adventures and treats.

Then the light’s green again

And in my pensive mood

I ask “what’s with the honking

“And why are drivers so rude?”

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Flour Power

All-purpose is white.

Whole wheat is gray.

I misspelled “flower”

But kept writing anyway.

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A New Rainbow Awakens

I’m feeling kinda down

Like a king without a crown.

I’m cowardly, as yellow as they come.

I’ve read like half a million books

By a bunch of chefs and cooks

But about sustainability I’m still dumb.

I thought maybe I’d fit in

If I changed my skin

But this spray-tan makes me look like that guy on the news.

You put it all together

In the rain or sunny weather…

I’ve got the well-read, not-green, yellow, orangey-white guy blues.

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Pulitzer Bait

What in the sheltered blue of dawn

Was in the sunlight brown as fawn

Turned reddish bronze in ochre night

And yellow in the Summer’s flight.

The spectrum warranted by such

Invoked in hearts a feeling much

As was supposed in rumor and buzz

That no one knew just what it was.

Opaqueness faded into clear

As people gathered far and near

To gaze on the whatever thing

Until the spoken truth would ring.

Alas as stanzas came and went,

The verses writ and meter bent

It soon was clear that even I,

The poet, could not identify

Just what in sheltered blue of dawn

Would visably change as all looked on.

This ending fixed inside my head

I thought of a rhyme and went to bed.

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Red roses for passion.
White roses for peace.
Yellow for friendship
And renewing your lease.

Yet why I am here
Nobody knows,
For what is the meaning
Of a camouflage rose?

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I don’t wear enough color
If you believe her.
I’d wear mauve, taupe, or beryl
If I knew what those were.

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Answer: All Credibility

Like a polyester sunset
On a foreign moon
My tangerine and violet pants
Will make the ladies swoon.

I know I am an icon
Since I bought my puce fedora
And an indigo graphic t-shirt
About the African diaspora.

I’ve got a turquoise leather coat
And burgundy canvas shoes.
I’m going to make a statement.
What have I got to lose?

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Why I Failed Art Class

The sun shines yellow
Through the fluffy white clouds
That linger in a sky so blue.

I think it would
Be simpler if
It was all just green, don’t you?

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