Tag Archives: Color

“Write A Poem With Silver And Orange… You Can’t”

All that is gold does not glitter;

All that is green does not grow;

But all that is orange and all that is silver

Will not have an easy rhyme though.

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A Most Violet Shanty (Not A Typo)

Legend says upon the sea

Beneath the skull and bones

A tiny man with whose skin is tan

With a beard of violet tones

Command a stalwart legion

Or pirates, hard as granite

Who seek to steal from those in teal,

Themselves in pomegranate.

There’s never been a pirate captain

So dreaded to be seen

As the hook’ed hand of the crooked man

Called Captain Aubergine…

Some once called him a dandy man

And some called him a fop,

And that soon lead to many a head

Who’s rollings’ are yet to stop.

And there he’ll stand with sword in hand

And beard the brightest plum

And calls the rat to ladies that

For booty he had come!

There’s never been a pirate captain

So dreaded to be seen

As the hook’ed hand of the crooked man

Called Captain Aubergine…

When on the seas, the frigates fled

When purple sails were seen

For not a sailor, cook, or whaler

Fights with Aubergine.

They knew beneath that gold fedora

A brutal brain belongs,

But none escape pillage and rape

Nor his K-Pop pirate songs!

There’s never been a pirate captain

So dreaded to be seen

As the hook’ed hand of the crooked man

Called Captain Aubergine…

And when the Violet Virgin docked

(As the captain’s ship was called)

The folks in port were naught but sport

For the pirates so ribald.

They stole the bread and beans and rice

And even the polenta,

For nothing stops the pirate fops

Bedecked in their magenta!

There’s never been a pirate captain

So dreaded to be seen

As the hook’ed hand of the crooked man

Called Captain Aubergine…

‘Til finally one fateful night

‘Neath a sunset, heliotrope

A treasure trove in vibrant mauve

With scalawags did elope

And Aubergine was satisfied

And sailed off, drinking wine

To somewhere worse, where grass is perse

And the sky’s amaranthine!

There’s never been a pirate captain

So dreaded to be seen

As the hook’ed hand of the crooked man

Called Captain Aubergine…

At least that’s how the tale’s told now

Of Captain Aubergine…

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems

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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Outliers

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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Fashion

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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