veins surge with static, eagerly pushing electricity through my blood like volts of frictionless energy
excitement flushes my pupils and they dilate as my lungs fill to breathe you in; an agonizingly controlled, but undeniably elated sense of euphoria at the slightest of touches
your jokes are accompanied by entirely too-perfectly-timed wit, and a lack of indication of sarcasm; I am flustered and yet flushed with happiness; a sweet conflict: self conscious with childlike glee.
you asked me to meet you at the top of the parking garage where you go to take pictures and watch fireworks; the thought makes my hands sweat and my head dizzy, the adrenaline of the height and the people buzzing below us and my hair in the wind and your face and those eyes.
I am a schoolgirl with pink socks, purple fingernails and a pulchritudinous heart.

I have to pretend that this is old.

I wear black all the time
I just dyed my natural blonde
To a black so dark
It almost looks deep blue
I love the color black
Its has such beauty
That most people don't seem to see
They see black and think goth
Or they think emo
Or even just think it looks stupid
But I look at black
And see the way the light glances off of it
I see how extra shiny black surfaces look
I love how my black hair darkness my whole face
I love the tough look black things give you
I love the sophistication
Of an all black outfit
I see depth to the color black
And that's why I like it
Because there is more to it
Than what you see at first glance
Just like many people
You glance at who they are
And how they act
And you assume you see it all
But the villains story
Is often just a victims story
Left untold for far too long.

Black is a beautiful color even if it often represents darkness and pain, you can find beauty in the strangest places, if you are just willing to look.
amari 6d

Oddly green in a world so obscene.
Not ripe nor ready, plucked my peadals. Unsteady.
Yellow fellow we don't mix well.
yellow & green is deadly.
Put me back where I came from, we are wilting steadily.
Blue isn't our color, and were drowning in it.
I can't swim and your sinking.
what were we thinking
-AR

Ivo 7d

Round and gorgeous
eyes,
dancing on the snow
blazing in disguise
freezing for the show.

Careless in their
work,
cautious in their game
silently, they lurk
loudly, they would blame.

Yellow, even red
dancing with no shame,
round and gorgeous
eyes,
cautious in their game.

Jobira 7d

Friends chosen
Some already fallen
Others remain hidden
Lonely hearts threaten
For all that is coming

Faith is restored
Walking, on high road
Life is flawed
Ocean is broad
To catch another fish

Feelings blemished
Egos diminished
Ages almost finished
Wild hearts unleashed
To live for what is left

Wild flowers teased
Eyes caught that pleased
Desired hearts appeased
Lost times erased
Opened gaps closed
The sky dances with colors

This piece is really inspired by Pagan Paul's "Creators of Chaos"

I loved his word game and thought to give it a shot.

We all have different colors
Imprinted in our souls
Wrapped up in a warm blanket
Of flesh and blood and bones
From the moment that we're born
We feel the seismic waves of love
And the truth is that there's nothing
Below us or above

My skin is your skin
Worn out and paper thin
Write your story on the surface
Let it bleed into your
Shadow sins

My skin is your skin
We end and we begin
Carve your dreams into the sand
Let them wash away
The ashes in your hands

Micah Zoe Aug 7

Blue is the sky
But blue is also lonely
Red is the rose
Red is happiness
White is clean
White is for hope

We have different colors
That makes up ourselves
True colors show up
To show what we really are

Everything is colorful
So as your life,
Make a smile
And enjoy colors in life.

I just made this because I'm bored so it may not be good haha I hope you like it though :)

Colors, have ways of making us soar,
or fall.......they make us buoy...
they, too, can divide and isolate...
long ago,  a magazine
was colored and identified for a reason.....
also,
a kind of blue-sy music, upon which i groove,
...was named for the same reason...
.............a magazine..... a music genre,
became instruments...and parts of
dark and golden moments.......recalled
and enjoyed, every now and then...they're
painted.......registered in people's minds....

life is a magazine of stories, of  poetry...
life is a jukebox...filled with soundtracks
life is an album...a collection of smiles
...of colorful images and emotions
reddish brown at first...turning yellow brown,
with tinges of taupe.......mottled through the years,
turning...into fading shades  of sepia...

i refuse my late summer moments on earth
............to be done in Grisaille,
painted, only in tones of grey and dark green...
...it is written...one day, life would be hued with
subdued colors...the blues, silvers and grays,
...........will be cold as winter...

but, until then,
i'd rather be consumed with liveliness
i would adorn my days with peach and lilac
blossoms, hang fuschia pink pennants
on my wall....to brighten my disposition,
i'd practice...play the guitar once again,
i'll wear my ruffled, dappled-purple skirt,
and yellow converse sneakers when i walk on
the pavement....under blue skies that enhance
greens, and gold...colors that breathe existence
transforming weariness to courage...

wherever...whenever, however possible,
i speak, whisper to  God words of gratitude,
and endless thanksgiving...i  pray for strength.    
and acceptance........prepare myself...when,
.....i, too...would face my own moments,
...............of fading sepia.

Sally

Copyright August 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

***Sepia is a dye, deep brown in colour, like the colour of very old photographs.

***Grisaille-- is a technique in which a painting is rendered solely in tones of gray, sepia, or dark green.
  *
***Sepia--a magazine for African-Americans which existed from 1947 to 1983.

***In the late 1940s and early 1950s, R & B (rhythm and blues) music was called race music or sepia music.

I saw her suffering through the halo train
riding silver linings of musk
crashing all around me
gliding through hymns of oblivion
swimming in the mascara of her eye lashes

saranade Jul 29

Rain, so fine just like dust
looking at sky, purple,
over-the-top roller coasters
Peaking at 92 mph
dodging the yellow
More than numbers, I passed
Cardboard windshield for glass
Clarity, it comes and goes
I need to slow down
Even when I'm
Not going
Fast enough.

Too fast. Not fast enough.
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