You know me.
You see me,
But you don't really see "me".
You see me as what you want me to be:
Either still a green
Or a not-yet red,
But never yellow.

But why do I care?
Because let's be real,
I'm never around long enough
for your liking anyway.

Her Nov 11

They say yellow is the happiest color
yet all the arguments in our house
were always in our yellow kitchen

They say yellow is the happiest color
yet the bruises from the marks you left on my body
would turn yellow after a few days
and i could not bare the touch of anything
on them for weeks

They say yellow is the happiest color
yet the first time you ever ravished me in pain
the sun was setting across the deep blue ocean
after a dark storm had passed
and the whole sky turned yellow

They say yellow is the happiest color
yet when i now think of pain the first thing
that comes to mind is not you,
it is your favorite color that does,


The Writer Nov 8

You with the brightest of sunshine yellows
Bold and bright, unafraid to show yourself
You were the sun
Her with the calmest of ocean blues
Intelligent yet soft, a beauty to behold
She was the sky
You tethered her to your side in the day
Then, carelessly, left her alone at night
Instead of love, you felt nothing but like
So instead you ignored her feelings
Without you, she would die
But without her, you would survive

BE McComb Nov 7

there are two floors
in my house
an upstairs
and a downstairs

separated by a
gray and green
concrete stairwell
where the footsteps
echo and voices bounce
against the fluorescence

i like the stairwell
it's transient and
i spend a lot of
time just running
up and down it
down and up it

there are two floors
in my house

the upstairs doesn't have
a roof. it has a white
background and blue
skies. the carpet is the fluffy
enough to sink your toes into
the wood floors are
pale. there are parachutes
hot air balloons. birds.
paper planes. kites. all things
aerial swirling around my head

the downstairs has black
ceilings and a cold concrete
floor. it stains your feet black
and sends chills up your legs and
up your spine when the chains
and cages rattle. chains. cages
are mostly what's down there
and they rattle. they rattle a lot

the upstairs has a piano and
polariod pictures. soft blankets
sweaters and a coffee fountain
right in the middle. there are
puppies and yarn and the puppies
play in the yarn. but the yarn
never gets tangled or linty and
there's always a sunset or sunrise
a fresh start or a peaceful end
depending. hot tea twinkly lights
candles and old movies or shows
oh and a lake. my very own lake
and the colors! there is every
color imaginable upstairs

but the downstairs is very quiet
very dark. no windows or sun
and the only creatures playing
are the ones in the cages
knitting shadows into gray
monochrome striped ski masks

there are more things upstairs
things even more pleasant than i
even just described. like fish tanks
and umbrellas. bicycles and
brightly painted cows. but i often
forget the lovely tableaus up there

when the groaning and clanking
from the basement echoes up
the stairs and i creep down
to see what's happening

and the black
begins to seep
i get trapped
down there sometimes
down in the musty damp
with the ghosts and fear

and i wish i had
a yellow helium balloon
tied to my wrist
to pull me back upwards
back to my safe world
of fresh paint and denim

there are two floors
in my house
an upstairs
and a downstairs

where shall
i sleep tonight?

copyright 11/6/17 by b. e. mccomb

Red, yellow, green…
They’re all I see
Flying backward in time
Into dimensions of warm autumn colors
Heads spinning
Dizzy dreams weaving together
Like our hands

Red, yellow, green…
All of them pull me back
Back to that moment
Under the stars,
Breathing symphonies
Of crisp air
Lungs tired and feet sore
The stars shining in your eyes like sparklers

Red, yellow, green…
The crunch of the leaves as we run
Run to fly again
Above the heads of people
I could never love like you
Sleeping like the butterflies
Softly lulling us into submission

Red, yellow, green
The color of the leaves
But also
The colors of our voyeuristic lips as the day went on
The colors of the golden lights that lit the way home
The color of your army jacket wrapped around me
The colors of fall
That day in October
Where you and I were more than ourselves.

We were heroes.

Hello all, welcome to my poetry.

alas, spring was a time of fakeness
and sally sneezed in sequences
everything swayed with breeze
on the brink of warm and cold were the colors
greens and yellows and ochres
that were pleasing those eyes
red, moist, sore
emblazoned by the dusty air
everything reproduced at a fast rate
au printemps, she remembered
bath absorbed
sally wandered
less direction now
her home near
too familiar now to be satisfying in any way
there she was
when she awoke at noon

Ophelia O Nov 6

yellow nights and bluebells
puddles of water, deeper pools than
the constant lake we muddled through
sunbeams always as bright as possible
torrential downpours of Zeus’s callings
ever enchanted we watch as she follows

curiosity growing;
a wiggle in the wet!

an earthquake of micro proportions
she, a young god, watches diligent
blank features, and the anticipation-
He’s here; creeping along, thick fingers reflect
drops of water and mud encasing small paws

He is here
but not for long, she
a shriek of young birdsong
reverberates loud enough to break
the melody of a rainy afternoon
each drop sings

remembering childhood
Allie Nov 3

You stand here kissing the light.
A halo of red leaves fall past your head
Your lips leave sparks on my cheek
Your eyes are as steady as tree trunks
The touch of your hand,
Makes the wind roar.
Will you catch me if I fall?
I already am.
My shirt ripples like waves in the  sea,
I wish to fall forever.
Because your mountain lion purr is my new favorite song,
I feel that your mysterious mind is made of music,
Each breath is a tune, each word is a melody,
You smell like brown cabins and daisies,
Your naked feet are the mud I am stuck in.
H e l p
I'm going to hit the ground and disappear into your orange hands.

You stand here kissing the light.
The gray skies are meant to be your background
Your rosy cheeks look far too kissable,
While you dance as if it's all you know how to do.
Every glance you grant me is a blessing and a  s i n,
Memories of lip balm and car rides flood my brain.
My dress is soaked, I'm drowning in you,
I wish you were lost in me too.
Your baffling blonde hair blinds me,
I can no longer see where I step.
Caught in a whirlpool, drinking all your thoughts,
Cold evenings, sweaty bodies,
You smell like blue trampolines and bubblegum.
This love is a shipwreck,
Oh God, This daydream has an expiration date,
I can't live off empty kisses and blue eyes.

You stand here kissing the light.
And breathing burgundy words.
Your hands are searching for a spark,
But your touch is as light as a bumble bees.
When you laugh, I no longer feel alone,
Because you make my heart beat again.
I stand on tiptoe and kiss your habitual hat,
Wishing I could be happy in your arms.
You are a sunny serene statue
In this seriously fast-paced fast-racing world.
But, notes passed and dying embers won't save me from
H o l l o w  car rides home.
You smell like warm blankets and hot sauce.
I warn you not to drink me,
I am spoiled milk.
Get out, before it's too late,
I don't love your yellow mind like I should.

A poem about the three girls in my life I've loved
Hasani Oct 30

Chocolate skin
smooth as butter

You're a treat!

Hair like cotton candy
Lips like honey

Oh so sweet!

All under a yellow sun
That I was sure would melt you.

Written for a girl who ended up breaking my heart. Bittersweet.
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