I loved it too- very entertaining. :D Hey, let's all do a color/colour poem in that jazzy/crazy/beat style! Anybody up for it? Hmm, I wonder if Pink was done...
PINK
She petals around like her ship don't sink...PINK Somehow she got it mixed up - she mingled her red with her white, well that wasn't quite right..ya think? PINK All day long, singing her song- a pouty, plaintive poetess..in a bow, in a blouse or a dress....PINK Can I buy you a Drink? How bout some Kink? I know a place where it's half off..I was talking about the drink, PINK...it's a double trouble with a sidecar of desire..and if you're bad, they throw in the kitchen sink. Are you delirious PINK? You're blushing- I think the Rosé's gone to your head, You're making the Violets shrink- Heartbreaker, dream-maker...you thought I was gonna say "lovetaker" didn't you PINK. Well I was, so there. You and all your glamorous, glossy fairy floss- I'm on the brink ..PINK- Don't push it.
:D
U R I E L What is done in the dark will always come to light
A poem, hmmm? Well, I daren't write myself. But Emily Dickinson does a mean jazzy/crazy/beat stylee. Here's Blue Jay: No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity
Pursuing winds that censure us A February day, The brother of the universe Was never blown away.
The snow and he are intimate; I 've often seen them play When heaven looked upon us all With such severity,
I felt apology were due To an insulted sky, Whose pompous frown was nutriment To their temerity.
The pillow of this daring head Is pungent evergreens; His larder — terse and militant — Unknown, refreshing things;
His character a tonic, His future a dispute; Unfair an immortality That leaves this neighbor out.
Oh, :x . I really wish you'd write one yourself whisperit. There's so many neglected colours- Scarlet, Viridian, Umber, Indigo, Bronze...pick one whisper- this place needs livening up, for realsies-
U R I E L What is done in the dark will always come to light
It seemed like they were shimmering, like Vermillion Riding in the sun, reacting like they're one In front, one on pillion, like Vermillion Acting cool as cats, knowing where it's at Intelligent and sesquipedillion Upbeat and of the street Clothing sharp and haircuts neat Like they're worth a million Proud and strong; their days are long Tanned and bronzed Like Vermillion.
Post edited by Urban_Tribesman at 2015-12-09 13:03:48
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ. Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit. Shall lure it back to cancal half a line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ. Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit. Shall lure it back to cancal half a line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Indigo, not Pink like Flamingoes Or Green, like the grass grows Or Umber, like Toads But like Dingos in Aboriginal Wolfs clothes With tail tips accented with bits of Indigo A psychedelic trip hop cool dog, not cat Who know where it's at Like those Vermillion brats Only cooler Antipodian sub zero heroes Like Cornwells Shakespeareo's Only they wear Indigo.
Post edited by Urban_Tribesman at 2015-12-09 13:08:13
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ. Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit. Shall lure it back to cancal half a line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Love the turn this thread has taken! The Dickinson especially, but Pink, White and Vermillion, all quite nice!
Here's my "F'd up " contribution to the crayon box:
Orange... bright and burnt and bitter sweet... blood, of the sun at twilight, juicy navel, a delight to eat... washed out, but hopeful, all the passion of a dying star, doomsday dreamer... would you be seen, with the likes of me?
You should have had me years ago, when I was perfect and didn't know.
Orange is just the afterglow. Nothing less and nothing more.