Sunday, August 28, 2011

i only see in colours now

i don't understand what i hear anymore
i don't know the words used now
or their true meanings. I don't see how people use their words.
i understand the word 'console' but it has come to mean a different thing altogether
i see words as the enemy now
they used to be my friends
a panorama of sickening disappointments
as when one has the words 'I knew I shouldn't have got my hopes up'
sobbing in ones ears

i feel a cold and steely blue when i hear things with which i cannot connect 
i can only connect with colour now
words have lost their significance
i use them for getting by
no more

yes, i see brown for that, for getting by.
getting by means only just.
that there is so much more one lacks and is aware of lacking, and misses.
i don't like brown at all.
odd, because it's the colour of chocolate
my faithful-sinful love life.
i don't know, brown just doesn't feel good.
i have no brown clothes. 
when i see women wearing browns 
i see them as desperate 
no style, no taste nor sexual language...
and no feeling for what compliments
a woman's curves
and desirability
such fascinating beauty deserves lashings of true colours, not brown.
they even make brown underwear
the very thought...
Even the way it sounds it dull.
Brown. Say it out loud. Brown. Brown.
No, no, no. getting by has to go

i see computers in black
the mourning of a lost society; 
Social interchange and relaxed gatherings
of like minds, or hate minds,
it doesn't matter, minds.
But black boxes or envelopes,
apparently the font of all communication,
have nothing to say for themselves.
just blank
just ... blank.
and if they start making sparkley ones
i shall leave
and simply go and live in space
if it doesn't work out
so be it.
trying to sex up mourning
is to prostitute your daughter
hello kitty is goodbye emma, no dilemma
i walk

i see forums in ochre.
not bright yellow, a hopeful ray.
more like old bile
still in the pavement cracks
after saturday night in guildford,
the town that taste forgot.
ochre, the shame of all colours,
that tittle tattle mothers tutt about and
upon which husbands or butch partners
perform the violent hunting down that ochre deserves.
ochre, an affront to its neighbours, master s. o'pure cornflower and miss d. mure violet

i see toddlers as orange.
perfection in the glass of life.
the juice of humans
sweetness of time
oh, orange for brilliance
and laughing
my god, laughing!
the gift from God
i cry as i write
orange has become my favourite colour
but then, we know life is full of regrets
i have so few...
orange is a lucky one, too.

Grey can catch me when it pleases
In my past
grey was such a forbidden colour
I dared not speak it's name til last year
but now I have warmed to grey
it's moderately stunning
pretty perfect
it will never be called manic depressive
it will be left alone (great for grey)
it will just be
in is own way

who can say that?

I know that success is purple.
God bless our gracious purple
long live our noble purple
but we will not always win
grey again!
get that grey thru my door
make it yellow scones, dark red jam and amber tea...
no,we don't win consistently
but just a little does for me
just a little does for me
its all in theory, relatively.

failure I see as gold.
The lessons worth their weight
your better traits show up in gold.
I say it so much
for I like the sound;
and how you cope is the winners tool
go down, get up again!
fall, rise.
you get up again, over and over
Oh gold is the prize of failure!
there is a short term temptation to crave but
it'll never be enough to barter for your weight in gold!
you'll see what i meant by that in time...

if failure then is gold
and success, purple, as we know
then they team up tremendously!
Have them simultaneously
and you'll be a man
it occurs to me

pink is flesh
and pink is nature
pink is procreation
and pink is little boys
until mediocrity 
has firmly gripped
and wrung the uniqueness out of life, and into death
pink is a little boy to me
why can't a little girl be green?
i won't be dictated to
by books, or clothes,
and other media outlets of doom
about which colour means what.
they will control you if they can
and if one is susceptible.
stay pink. stay you.
little girl green.

I only see in colours now
I cant connect with words somehow
I hear them unauthentically
they don't show what they're meant to be

so...these are what words are to me.
not to you
for that's your poem, dear reader
write it, do!