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If we can restore vibrancy to color
stripping layers of time
to render art new
then can we lift sound particles
from memories
laid down decades before
dab a pen over words
slandering our hearts
eliminate critical noises
that chastise
til all we recognize
is a blank slate of static
where WE select
rhythm and pace     
compliments      feeding our lives' diorama  

                 beliefs              entangled    

we become the artist
         the symphony playing remastered tunes

Stay Strong    
                                  You are Valuable
And, most importantly,

           You Deserve to be Loved
If we can challenge old thoughts that debilitate our efforts and rewind time's old cassette tape to the very beginning, what dreams might we record, what promises to ourselves might we keep?  BE KIND TO YOUR MIND
Norman Crane Sep 3
black lives matter so
black lies matter so
dive in deep waters to
die in deep waters to
be seven as the samurai
be seen as the samurai
your mind curved
your mind cured
starve and
stare and
carving your name in history make
caring your name in history make
the world: invert
the world: inert
an ideology to believe
an ideology to belie
The challenge here was to start with a line, then make the next line the same but for the subtraction of one letter (in this case, v) and follow the same pattern for the duration of the poem.
When we met, I was Blue,
Shaking, trembling, sobbing
I was the Pacific Ocean;
Cold and withdrawn.

You said hello, and I was Yellow.
A happy, carefree, summergirl.
Yellow as buttercups, as the sun
Warm and caring and healthy.

As I fell, I turned Orange
A warm and comforting love
A cosy couple, a mug of apple cider couple
And a pile of fallen leaves couple.

I turned Gray when winter came
And chased you away from me
I was cold and lifeless once more
But without me, you were also Gray

We came together a second time
And I was Red as the setting sun
Red as roses, Red as the blood in our veins
Red as the hearts that beat for one another once more.
Day Two of the 30-Day Poetry challenge. Prompt: Colour Personified
Upon my beating heart
A little bird perches and trills
Of life’s many wonders
And its numerous thrills

Of love and war, I hear him sing
Of how war does hurt
And of how love does sting

Of loss, he chirps,
And of bloodshed, of death
But it’s my love he sings of
With a final shuddering breath
Doing a 30-day poetry challenge, and I figured I'd start now.
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