Halcyon days, Hell, cyan, amazement. I saw different to said, Red wasn't waiting. Salad, dressing for cravings. Expecting men with perspective of age. Dating, is quite like smelling the rain, Best stand aside, it's different to face. Wearing a veil, wearing a cape, Wearing a suit, it's all the same, Objects, representing the snake.
Red about the hands, Red about demands, Red a henhouse lacks. Red, ten ounce glass, Half gin, half cognac. So it's red inside, out, Red from front to back.
Hell is where bones conjoin. Fell into boys, resin oil, foil... Paranoid terror, disappointment. What was worse, Your disease, or my point? Multiple choice questions on the medical forms, Your network connections on cellular phones. Joint ventures, a voice credits feminine for, But between the temples the evidence shows. Goodbye are the days, Yellow presence, White, like breast or loin, and yet, still like poinsettia, Red on the inside. Compare your sickness to mine, Hell is where bones conjoin, There to which the feathers fall, Quality of life destroyed, Vaporizer oil, foil, credit card, Paranoid terror, disappointment. The spider bites with sting of poison, Whether on the page or from an arm.
I see yellow, blue in disbelief. Spiritual sterility, misdeeds, Financial instability, tricks, Affinity for weed. Advocate for your beliefs, Maybe, about that, you should sing, Not wordsmiths, suicidal tendencies, And bowing, Hands and head about the strings. Red is the color of blood, Red is the brickwork at home, Red is the byproduct of cones, Red is the color of love, Cleft lips, crushed bugs, Insides of lungs. Scry from that what you like, But Toronto has a darkness, That should be red and white.
A look at the steps, I look past the flesh, Yes, says the books. No, when I look at your texts. If one pulls a rope far enough, can they pull past the end? When you look at yourself? Do you see past the hair? Dogs are like wolves, More inbred and inept, Live in distant woods, Beside the caves, bears. When you look in the mirror, Do you see yourself? I took glimpses and saw red.
Red, race runner. Race winner, Hair, face makeup, Gray silver. A sliver of hope, please, The world cometh. Great singers, they say, Have a way with words, Do they listen to yours? When they read mine, I expose their inside. Cinnamon rolls, She eyes the icing, When she listens to me, Her head is cocked back, As if she died. She says, Cinnamon rolls are fine, Beige aside. Change, paper kites, Beyond lime green basement lights, Confirmation of rights. Like what a child encased in white, Could possibly look like? Red, less waste of time.
What do all men have in common? Red, rattling armor, Ass and breasts in their dogma, Actions in concert. I suppose it's my problem... Like cinnabar bath water, and fear of god. What do all red have in common? Whatever shade, inside they want. Blue reflects poorly upon, Such asks their goddess. Chris Adler stamps his feet, Sick, he begs for his bottles, I suppose it's Travis Barker's problem...
Calm wind after someone has died, The distance, is inner turmoil, One, it takes a lifetime to fight. That's why there is blue in the sky. The yellow and red still exists, Hidden by tricks in the mind. Like, Somewhere inside, I believe you are still mine, All I see is the thing you're like. It's like a room of three pipes, I can always stay high, But how, does one fight to stay? They pick low and live life. Despite the teal, I see the skies, What is real? Me, and all my desires, Despite the sequins, I see the light.
Despite the evocation, Reduction, reprisal, Draw a circle, Around my face, eyes, nose. Triangle, circles, about my square, Protection from inside my head. I've seen males drag knuckles, on their floor, faith and culture. Their minds warped, images of war, For what did they fight? Rights, to remove the guy ropes, Scrape pavement with claws at night. Tools of change, Use of space, Use of names, True and sage. Despite the evocation, Things change. Diana wrote little of cages, Ropes below.
Blue, vampire bat, I feel like that at times, Lies about my fangs, Silver metallic, Azul and cyan, Tired, of sky high tricks. I guess that's why I am, Grown men cry, surely, But then grown men die, Weapons about their side. Head held high, my friend, Surely, we will meet again, No shame in dying to a man. Right? Azul and cyan, In sake of blue, give me white. Am I doomed, to be a beast? Who bites? Well, then why alongside them, Question the carmine reds? All I want is life, beyond that, Perhaps azul and cyan.
Have dreams, That's how you achieve them, Not bat ears and canned heat. Billy Bragg says 'freedom is' , But whiskey is softer on ears, Randy Blythe pushes people, Carried off as he prescribes. Chlorine, yonder, sapphire dyes, In your heart you can see their eyes, You never fully extinguish a life. Murderer, she says, most immodest, Mostly chlorine water in response, Yonder, the noble's calling, It turned her to stone on the inside. To me, like sapphire and diamonds. To her, being pushed from a stage, Down past concrete, into a grave. Into the maze, blue, into the grey. Now you are mine forever.
If fights ensue, It's not of me, delights, or truth, So why stand beneath? At least in my mind the blue is me. What of peacocks in the spring? What of cheese in the crumbles? What of resolve and my shivering? Certainly, I can feel these things. It's not beneath me, Like red sees croplands, Like rubber and tarmac. Like green sees the sea: blue. Ironically, foolish for free verse. Traverse the world, but ask me, Just remove lines, write peace. Irish flute, life renews, Fights needs two, Then favour winning, Like red says to greens. I wish inside, though, blue remains. Enticing eyes, confusing wings, Flying, seems a bit childish to me, As does to peacocks in the spring.
Narrow perceptions, Narrow affections, Despite prayers, attention, Yellow shell for protection. State your objections, Friends for protection. But in your profession, You need a director, For help, or whatever, For the show you live in. And they have their agenda, Sex, successors, buzz levels, Namely, making you famous. Yet, if you know contentment, Can you ask god, Inside somewhere, is there yellow? I feel life swallowed me whole, Until I crack, cry and bellow, Like whales beneath the waves.
There's no corset for age, Inevitably, masks degrade, What cannot be truly said, Like what is inside of a bank? I think: Narrow focus, quests for fame. Yellow, orange, redder grapes, Yellow locusts, yellow cobras, Despite the sweetness, slaves, Yellow, love, and disgust of stage. It's the red that keeps you away. It's the red that keeps you awake, It's red that made me ashamed, Less sweet and prearranged. There is no chorus of praise, Inevitably, that's an act of faith. Like no corset abound my waist, Only orange, celibacy and rage. However, It's yellow up for debate, Yellow in me sees people change, Yellow, to me sits out by the stage, Yells out in unison to the play.
I'm sorry, I fell asleep, Black, eyes see, I feel... Yellow, what can ever be? Like a child, I dream... of, Yellow, saffron, cream, White outside yellow. Like an egg, given life, Tell us, what should it be? Just like rust on the beach, Yellow, contained in white? I'm sorry, I fell asleep... What of the darkness? You still sleep at night, Despite what you speak, Yellow, what is it you see? I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I cannot be there, I feel... Yolk: mustard, garlic, Like darkness inside me, White on the outside, Bizarre shades, and yellow.
Yellow, above, I wish you were more blue, Less discussed, Like fish of the third month, It takes two to be true, Hairpin curves take but one. Yellow, above, Consider this goddess worship, But, please don't discuss it. Like the days say to the month, It might take thirty to be you, But things we cherish, we love. You would take a setting sun, Color it blue, that says enough. Diamond, yellow zircon, Gifts in the twelfth month, Yellow above.
Desert sun, august morning, Sky, a butterscotch orange. Amongst all things, concerns: For paintings are ownership... Hopefully drawings disappear, Wrap your body in animal skin. Put a brush to your wrist, Go ahead, spill, Color all over... Hopefully canvas appears. Yellow, what say of the sea? Hardcore, double crossing, frog, Croaking of dark forces and fear. An unarmed soldier, war over, Still fighting with the hayseeds. Oh, Is this why blue pervades me? All things amongst me here, Sidewalks get ownership, You pay, then worship on them. All language, being borrowed, Gives power to some lawyer. Oh, Is this why blue pervades me? Yellow, what have you made me?
Pastel crayon, divine me. Quite a lot of yellow fears... I see. I asked where are they? Inside me? Behind? Corn, cream or citrine? Honey, they see white... Gleaming, unsheathed knife, Streelights, divine me. What is fear like? White with yellow? I think I could but part ways, Let the meat meet the knife, See yellow inside their face, Toenails and eyes. Again, define me, Against this chaos I fight.