i loved to paint using your colour.

i’d go day and night, from one canvas to another, using different shades of you to paint all kinds of pictures.

i never lost any ideas.
i never had to find inspiration.
it all just comes to me whenever i look at you.

one day, i woke up colour blind. and unfortunately, it’s in your colour.

all the paintings, all the sketches, all the canvasses that were of your colour, plastered, hanged, and taped all over my walls doesn’t make sense anymore.

it was all grey. all dull. a colour i know existed but never really tried using before.

i tried searching for your colours in the things you’ve touched. the words you’ve said. i searched everywhere but whenever i do think your colour will come back, my eyes revert to reality.

now you’re just a memory.

your colour will only exist inside my mind.

those shades i loved. the pigments i crave to achieve every time i stroke my brush. it’s all in my head now.

it’s been years now. your colour isn’t as bright as i thought my memory would remind me of.

i paint with a different colour now.

actually, i paint with all the colours now except yours.

all those nights i spent painting, it’s with every colour i come across but yours.

now my wall’s full of colour again. all from different parts of me. colours i never knew existed.

now,

i’m happy. i’m content.

i’m colourful.

Watching black and white flicks
From nineteen thirty four
With overacting stars and
Rinky-tinky scores;
Heroines with painted lips
To make them twice their size
And everyone with black liner
Smeared around their eyes.

Those were the big old movies
After school in the afternoon.
There were even snappy teasers
That told us ‘coming soon”
But television was free to us
And movie shows expensive
So, my backlog memories became
Inclusive and extensive.

I still can name most of the stars
And even say the name of the flick
And name some supporting actors
And I can do it super quick.
Because that was the entertainment
In a family with no movie budget.
If a movie came on I hadn't seen,
You can be sure I would watch it.

Later TV went to color shows
And it truly made my life great.
I’d see a favorite was coming on
Like Wizard of Oz, I couldn’t wait
To see it in color! Well, at least
Once Judy and the house landed.
It was enchantment for sure
No matter how heavy handed.

But for a decade or more, I watched
And was perfectly content to see
And not have a clue about their hair
Or color that their eyes  might be.
For happy in a black and white world
Pleased the young, unspoiled me.
After all, those fabulous stars
Were there for greedy young me!

She was a rose
A unique black rose
Her beauty was in the dark
Not in the light
But her scent
Smelled like
A colorful flower.

Today I realized something
My friend and I
Are both eye catching
In our own quirky, unique ways
But
While she is a proud peacock, standing proud and tall
I am the butterfly
That flutters away unnoticed
Fleeing at the first sign of attention

Purple and pink
glooms of hope
spark in what
I like to call life.
But my sweet darling
this is no life to live.
Full of regrets
that sail across
the passive mind.
Only to relive
what once wasn't
yellow and orange
juicy drinks
at the beach
with stars above.
The colorful hope
serves limited time
but at last it gives
an after glow.

i had a dream
                            that i died

out if the blue
i wasn't alive,
& they drew
my chalk outline
with pink chalk
on the sidewalk
where my body lied,
delicately draped
across grey pavement
& through the cracked cement
a single yellow dandelion
appeared, in full bloom