"chromaticity" poems
i should be seeing
fuschia,violet,vermillion,olive,chestnut,
but all my eyes comprehend is the
chromaticity of this disorder
turquoise,crimson,cerulean,mint,wine,
all i see is but an esoteric dream.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 7:34 PM UTC
in the center
of my garden of thought
is an
inky black pool
an obsidian mirror that ripples
and grows
with each
and every
hurt, pain, and torment I endure
circling the pool
my verdant hopes
my violaceous loves
my carmine furies -
their blooms crawl, intertwine, creep
in a mass of emotion and impulse
pushing ever against the center
where my garden meets that
ebony pond;
a barren desolate blight
of decay and hopelessness
the vivid chromaticity of my
emotion
in perpetual campaign against
the void
that forever
threatens to
consume
me
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
I tried to write
But all that came out were colors
In the shades of our love
And the hues that formed our history
Saturated my mind so brightly
That I saw it not as a poem
But as more of a painting
The letters didn't form words so much
As they formed a lovely mural
Across the canvas of my heart
Still locked away
Only put on display for you
And eyes that saw themselves as the key
Freed from the loneliness of eternity
There was no punctuation
Only fireworks that were still burning
Weightless in the clarity of the heavens
That found themselves to be
All the illumination we need
To rest comfortably in the spectrum of each other
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC