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red green blue
converge to white
reveal what's true
ever of spite

yellow red blue
diverge from white
sent in color
received in grey
or the other way

yellow red blue
converge to black
yellow cyan magenta
follow suit

reflection refraction
doppler shift

wave photon
or both
linger the grift
Who has picked up pencil colors,
Such deep red colors,
And lighted a little red fire,
on that pine shrub:
Who, O Who, has made
this red cardinal!
On this colorless white
morning, who made my
morning, lucky with red!

© Manan sheel.
she asked me to write a letter
express my feelings and matter
i couldn't find the suitable words
except making a white paper
she asked,"is that your feelings"
i said," that is your heart's color
love makes me dance, and my mind becomes inteeligance
No twinkling red giant star
Glistens with more red than your lips.
No verdant green of prairie grass
Can be more fertile than your hips.

The sky’s blue hues from morn to night,
Are pale against your royal soul.
The softened tan of perfect skin
Colors my heart out of control.

The yellow sun is cold and dark
When your aura is on display.
Like whitest white more blameless than
A child on his very birthday.

In you is all that can be seen,
In ways that colors only know.
Your gifts of beauty more vast than
The colors across the rainbow.
Instagram @insightshurt
www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Without you
I am colorless
Because,
You are the one–
Who gives color to my life
shia 2d
puti ng umaga
ningning sa mga mata
may dagat na dinadala.
dilaw na paningin
buwan nakabantay sa'tin
kalaro natin ang dilim.
bughaw ating langit
paglisan mo ang batid
sabay ang wakas at pikit.

w.c
primary colors.
i leave this piece
open for interpretations.
Rain 2d
"Do you ever wonder if a painter ever tires of his colors?"

Does a painter ever tire of his colors?

Well, here is what I consider;
Does a bird ever tire to sing?
Does an instrument ever tire of its tune?
Indeed, does a poet ever tire of his words?

I, though I am surely no expert, say that it is not so
For as a bird may sing a hundred songs yet speak no lyrics,
As the instrument may contain a thousand songs therein, whilst keeping its tunes the same,
As a poet may conceive of an abundance of lyrical wonders, poems so sad or sweet to make a grown man weep, but only the order of the words he uses may change

As all of this is so, I say this:
A painter may yet tire of his colors, but all artists are only given so much
So if a painter and a creator he truly is,
They shall surely find again a new way to use that which they were gifted
For colors, words, tunes- these are all limited, and infinity does not present itself in any
Yet that is the unique power granted to artists,
they create a multitude of works from the most limited material

And isn't that what sets us artists apart?
The ability to make something beautiful from but a few colors, from but a few words, from but a few tunes

Essentially,
To be able to carve infinity from something finite.

So again, I say it is not so - a painter should never tire of his colors, but only think longer on how he should next arrange them.
This was written in response to poet Eleanor Sinclair's work titled "Wonder", which asked the question of whether or not one thought a painter ever got tired of his colors. You guys should totally go check out her other poems - they're really good!!
Haylin 2d
The light is shining
We're on display
The whistle blows
Nothing's moving
The air is still
Everyone yells
PA
4 beats of silence
And then it starts
The colors spin
The laughing begins
Then you toss
You hold your breath
As the colors fly through the sun
Everything stills
The light pours through you, you are endless
You catch
4 beats have gone by
Since the silence ended
4 beats is a lifetime
Haylin 2d
The flags interweave in a synchronous pace.
A pattern is formed and dissolves into space.

Kaleidoscope movement and the swish of a sabre.
What flows like dance is a pain and hard labor.

Glitter and make-up fluff and curls for the show.
But there's nothing soft about the rifles they throw.

The best part of the guard is not seen by the eye.
It's teamwork and sharing and daring to try.

When the show's over and the props put away.
There's always more practice and some time to play.

So just when you think the guard is all done.
Somewhere in a gym, they're still having fun.
Haylin 2d
I pledge allegiance
To my guard flag
In the band room at (your school's name) in America
And to the pole
For which it's on
One show flag
That costs a lot
Hopefully indestructible
And that it will move smoothly and surely for me
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