smeared acrylic
plastered onto my cheek,
i move a finger
into the paint.

that’s wasteful,
my senses admonished.

but the yellow blonde paint
was cool
against the heat of warm blood.

observing the pocket-sized sphere,
i smudged the ball of paint
between my dwaal thumb
and forefinger.

my skin, flavescent.
i, a canvas.

i smiled with a sort of
levity.

perhaps
there was a reason
van gogh ate the yellow paint.
I opened a tub of butter
And saw a sunlit ray
I spread it on a slice of bread
And made a summers day
Inspired by buttering toast :)
jas Feb 11
yellow
like the sun
yellow
like the blooming sunflowers in the garden
yellow
like a zest of lemon with a fresh cup of iced tea

you are yellow
a radiance of warmth energy
you are yellow
growing from the bottom up
you are yellow
leaving people with a fine taste in their mouth as they speak your name
red
   romance
   passion
   beauty
orange
   excitement
   energy
   kindness
yellow
   happiness
   comfort
   sensation
green
   growth
   nature
   adventure
blue
   innocence
   vast
   calmness
purple
   royalty
   majestic
   valuble
pink
   love
   affection
   sweetness
-everything has a meaning
Colors…by Jessie 11/05

Whitened page of empty thoughts
Blue, from days depressed

Soft pink cheeks, and pink plump lips
Beauty, standing in an ivory dress

Knees are stained by grass of green
Day’s of darkened black

Golden tears have been let lose
In the distance…brown boxes neatly stacked

Orange bowls of lemon drops
Silver bells, nicely shined

Yellow labs in playful chase
Purple sheets sublime

Hair turns gray and copper rusts
Platinum credit cards

Teal paint to trim the house
Amber rocks, which line the yard

Scarlet fever takes a hold
Mustard spread on bread

Rainbow suckers chosen first
Candy apple red
Alec Jan 31
You make me wanna come home
After a long day, when my soul wants to roam.

You remind of lazy summer mornings
Curled up on the couch watching tv and adoring.
The way the yellow light seems to curl and seep through the blinds
While sweet fantasies entrance my mind.

Sprawled out
With no worries, no doubts.
Dani Jan 31
I’ve got buzzing in my feet
cause of this new pair of shoes
and I’m feeling pretty sweet
like there’s nothing to lose.

They’ve got thick rubber soles
and bright white laces
The kind to take a stroll
with deep wide paces.

My bright yellow pair of sneakers
I wonder how they look
Or if I seem too eager
Or if I’ll be mistook.

They make me grin so wide
I feel unrecognizable
My heart so full of pride,
My smile’s undeniable.

I can’t help but feel neat
when I squeak against the sidewalk
or when I saunter down the street
and meander round a roadblock.

I’ve got buzzing in my feet
cause of this new pair of shoes
and I’m feeling pretty sweet
like there’s nothing to lose.
A poem to be read out loud, play with sound.
I knew i should have went for it when i had a green light free to go

I also knew i should have when when i had a yellow light and made sure i proceeded  with caution

But now i really should have stopped when i saw the red light
because that was my stopping point
and i treated it like a green light
And now here i am, stuck at a yellow light carefully stepping, where to go, what to say, or even do, just waiting for a green light to tell me its okay to go
They are spying on us
from the black ether
eyes good enough to
spot you from over there
to over here and beyond
What do they see behind
this thick veil of flesh
are they soul searching us
or are they just curious enough
with all that money to find
nothing but me and you
loving each other...
Most of us are just living our lives.
Ken Rafiñan Jan 21
Right on the equator—
straddling the high heat between
curry-hot
and whatever we’re not.

Getting the full hit of that
sun-lit shot:
by skies,
through skin,
and right into muscle and bone and soul.

“Hello, hello.”
What else could you feel,
except mellow?
As any fellow in yellow would—
that summery good.

All those seconds
licking
the salt on all those rims
thinking,
“When will all of this end?”
“We don’t know if it should.”
Or if it even could.

All those bright mornings,
hard as wood—
firm with a give.

Forgiven
because it is expected,
and then exponentially exploited thereafter.

Hands behind your head,
with the
brave
blue
abyss
below
on the
giant
jutting
jetty.
That place where only you will go—
all salt-stained.

Staring right into its clockwork face;
defiant before the daily god.
Besides,
all we could be is burnt.

Pigmentary punishment praised
by dazed memories of days.

Hours of farewell;
so long it took us—
how ours were so wrong.

Before we feel,
we fall.

We’re done:
corpse cold,
and gray gone.
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