"colorblind" poems
Intolerant to Tolerance
(Poem by Serenus)
They tolerate your gayness
You should be so glad
That they’re not indifferent to your difference
They’re not the one’s calling you F*g
They tolerate your blackness
Racism…
They’re much bigger
In their minds
They’re colorblind
They’ve never uttered
The word N*gger
They tolerate your religion
Muslims,
Jews,
And Christians
Believe what you want to believe
They tolerate your decision
They tolerate your opinion
They tolerate your facts
They tolerate your voice
They even let you talk back
They can stomach you as a person
Isn’t that honorable?
Doesn’t it feel great…
To be so tolerable?
We all need to pull together
And strive to be prosperous
It’s time to move forward
And be intolerant to tolerance.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
-
crack another thermometer open
on the broken bathroom sink,
pour yourself into me like mercury
and pan the bed of my stomach
for multitudes of gold flecks
like however many myriads
of sickly pill bottles in your
dresser drawer of socks.
-
see all
the shredded speckled petals
i ripped up before i'd let
the deer get to them;
i'm colorblind,
and i can't tell
the sun's reflection from plastic,
or tulips from the broken
pottery outside my front door.
-
and far least from another beer,
and another fifth of whatever
could be fit under your shirt
-
and never a chair pulled up to speak,
from standing like a soapbox
more suited to cleaning
than to preaching.
-
pour yourself into me like mercury,
because it's so much easier
when my veins weigh me down
to distraction, than being able
to think of hydrangeas again.
-
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
dis here speech addresses all colors
this speech addresses all colors
try to appreciate life
try ta appreciate life feel me?
try ta respect everyone
try to respect everyone
yo maybe eved try ta love people
maybe even try to love people
tis be what i done been learnin' in stationary treatment
that's what i've been learnin in stationary treatment
if ya don't embrace such values
if you don't embrace such values
try at least tolerating others:
you's black, white and biracial brothers
your black, biracial and white brothers
don't forget you's sisters
don't forget your sisters:
black, biracial, white
24 hours be made of day and night
24 hours are made of day and night
ya feel me?
do you understand?
every man be a mister
every man is a mister
every woman be a lady
every woman is a lady
racists are lazy
racists be lazy
since they don't want to understand "others"
since dey don't finna understand "others"
lovin', tho, be de best mood to make it trough dis state that we call life.
loving, though, is the best mood to make it through this state that we call life.
from me to you:
from me to you:
MUCH COLORBLIND LOVE
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
i feel deep sorrow for those who are
colorblind.
not because they cannot
distinguish the difference between a
red rose or white, or
a green dress and blue, but
because they cannot see
the beauty that is the sunset.
they cannot tell of the colors that
hold onto one another and
mix in perfect harmony as they
blanket the sun and let her
sleep for the night, giving way to the
glint of the moon.
they cannot see the hues that
cause lovers to become awestruck and
fall deeper in love.
but they can see shadows and light.
they can see how their girlfriend's hair
darkens her profile a tiny bit,
creating contours.
they can see how beautiful she looks when
the sunlight hits her eyes and
makes them shine a brightness in competition
with the night stars.
they can see how the light slips from her face at night and how
shadows replace the brightness.
they can see how the morning light pushes out these shadows,
making room to lighten her face
once again.
perhaps the rise and fall of the light on a woman's face
are all the sunsets a
colorblind person
ever needs.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Long days seem so much longer.
Distance does not make the heart grow fonder.
You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious.
Your crusade so short,
Yet I hope your reign continues for eons.
We’re far past passive flatteries,
Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows.
You mean them now,
But what about a few months?
What if you decide I’m not what you want?
The torment I am slowly approaching,
Consumes my distant soul.
I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing,
From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll.
So tell me.
How can I pay this inevitable toll?
How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny?
His arrow is too far lodged within me,
I cannot remove it.
I can only push it farther and farther
Into my heart until it falls out of my back.
But this arrow, trenchant.
Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen.
Yet colorblind, he is.
He sees not what colors his targets represent.
He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship.
Sometimes, yet not often,
He will hit the intended target.
But the odds are scarce.
His subjects are often punctured,
And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire.
Yet this time…
This time…
Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval.
For thrice he has missed.
This time He and Fate are in sync.
This wound may stretch over time,
But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my *****
***** and immovable.
Until you kick it through my backside.
But until then,
I can only endure.
I can only be woo wounded.
I can only survive,
Another ambush of the militant called Cupid.
But I will do it for you,
For by you,
I’ve been so divinely seduced.
Wooed by your lips.
Not by your kiss,
But by the music,
Which your mandibles so express.
I desire not to seal this wound,
But to evade its’ repercussions.
For I have endured a similar wound thrice.
He is winged as if an angel,
Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well?
Cupid is an impostor.
A spy of Agony, himself.
He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak.
He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades.
He is a bloodthirsty heathen.
He makes scoundrels of Saints,
And Harlots of Housewives.
Saint Valentine is no Saint.
He is Satan’s nightmare.
At first, his arrows are ecstasy,
But like a cancer,
His poison-saturated arrows
Seep deep within every crevice of your body.
They consume you as if enriched with ******
And eventually rot within your *****
Until it is nothing but dust and a memory.
One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant,
The one we call Cupid.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Here I sit
Between two choices
Between two people
Between two indentities
Looking for a happy ending
In a world divided
As sharp as black and white
To my left
Is what society wants me to be
Smart and respectful
Following the rules
Dressing to impress
safe, but
To my right
Is what I want to be
Dark and edgy
Rebelling
CLoaked in black head to toe
Black rimmed eyes
Loud music blaring
But the thing with black and white
Is that there is a gray area between
With infinite shades
Some wear it on their face
For everyone to see
While they group together
I'm left in wonder
For when I look in the mirror
I am suddenly colorblind
Blinking back at myself
for hours on end
Trying to figure out who I am
Am I more of what I'm trying to be
Or what I should want to be
Maybe I'm a perfect 50/50 mix
That isn't so perfect after all
It's plain and boring
perfectly ordinary
On the left
I would be a fake, and
On the right
I would be a fake
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 11:40 PM UTC
Go choke on your delusional idea of love. No does not mean “change my mind” No does not mean liquor me up, get me good and drunk till I can no longer verbally reject you. My slurs of terror and anguish as I try to shove you off of me. Did it make you feel good? Did you feel like a real man- To take what was mine. Did it boost your ego? You had no right to sneak into my bedroom and steal my girlhood. I was 13. Chaos seeped into what was a serene life. The torturous and endless cycle continued for 3 god **** years. What man is so weak? So weak that he has to take what he feels he’s entitled to, from a little girl. I can never get back what you stole from me. They couldn’t find any evidence to prove the assault even happened, but the trauma can never be erased from my mind. The skin replaces itself every 7 to 15 years, so scientifically speaking your hand prints are still eminent on my skin. This flesh and bone is no longer mine. That home I took my first steps in, was no longer mine from the moment you creeped in. But you do not own me. I can still recall the first time I frantically searched for a sharp object in all the clutter, just trying to make myself distasteful to you. But you ignored the blood dripping from my thighs, dismissed the warning signs as if you were colorblind. Nothing could stop your calloused hands and feeble mind. Years later, your pressure still stands heavy on my heart. I labeled myself as damaged goods. But I am a ******* work of art. And I can’t undo what you did but I can use my voice to speak on the pain you’ve caused me. To raise awareness for those still suffering. You did not stunt my growth because I am in full bloom. I will not let you define a single part of me. I will grow as you regress. As you destruct everything you come in contact with. I will touch people and I will make jaws drop. I will be someone. Just watch me.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Late night phone calls
Conversations and sapphic dreams
Days got so long
I couldn't keep her entertained
It’s haunting and painful
Loving what you can’t hold
Coldness crept beneath the warmth
I thought she gave
Ensnared me; constricting
I couldn’t breathe
Thought I was breathless because I loved her
But she killed me with her sweetness
Worry, confusion
Tainted memories
Agony and heartache
Looking back in vain
I’m blurry, misguided
Troubled and insecure
Uncertain and lonely
Trying to find a cure
To all of my despair
Thought she was something more
Wet and red
As my wrists bled
She was there
In every tear I shed
What a haunting way
To honor
The memory of a ghost
Priestess in my memories
Temptress in my dreams
Why was it so easy?
So easy to leave me?
To hurt me?
How was it so easy to let me go?
I’m still holding on
To all the things I can’t recall
You must have took them all
On our last call
The sound of your laughter
The sound of your voice
Choking on your tears
I still remember
Worry, confusion
Tainted memories
In the tea stained color
Of her eyes
Agony and heartache
Looking back in vain
I’m blurry, misguided
Troubled and insecure
Uncertain and lonely
Trying to find a cure
To all of my despair
Thought she was something more
But I was colorblind, I should’ve known
When our love was blue in a world of red
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 7:51 AM UTC
I am a timeline of everything I've ever known.
It's copied onto thirty-five pieces of blank paper
and revealed to you in that mundane history course
that everyone naps through.
I can't deny
that among the black waves,
I've seen a sea star or two.
But I seem to be devoutly colorblind
to the silver linings that outline
what I've gone through.
You can't disguise your drowning,
nor can you swim to shore.
You just have to hope
that no one knows what to look for.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
I consider myself colorblind
No, I can see perfectly fine.
My true colors I hope you find.
I can see red and blues combined
I can see the green of the tree line
But I consider myself colorblind.
Times can't rewind
You and I are equal, bottom line
My true colors I hope you find.
I can see the rainbows aligned
Hell! I can see the gold dollar sign!
But I consider myself colorblind.
All I mean is to be kind.
Life isn't a ladder it’s a vine.
My true colors I hope you find
Open up your mind
All these colors are divine.
But I consider myself colorblind
My true colors I hope you’ll find.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
I feel better
I feel like an altered dress
Fixed so that I can fit onto this life
But this life has nothing left
Nothing is right
No pink in my cheeks
Or green in my eyes
Water color paint brushes
Slowly filling with more plain
I try to paint a picture
Its hard without color
I try but eventually
I give up
When you bleed clear
When your world turns black and white
Its hard to get life back to the way it was.
I guess I'm just colorblind now
Careful you could become colorblind too.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
I found you over the rainbow,
In some kind of spectrum glory
Talking colors and how they only matter
When the eyes of the world are closed.
So I kissed you as the sun rose,
All yellows, oranges and light.
Hearts some kind of colliding.
Full spectrum love-shine.
Fading fast to daylight.
Never to return.
Because you are you,
And I will always
Be me;
In love with the notion of color theory
And colorblind to reality
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
you are
a sunflower
colorblind
and out of your mind
i am
the sun
i am the sun
i am trapped
in the sky
i don't know
where to run
he is
a butterfly
see him
flutter by
and he is free
unlike you
and me.
p.t.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
I am colorblind
Without you, dear.
I lost red,
When you stole my heart,
A little bit of blue
With every tear that fell for you,
Green when I
Looked into your eyes for the last time.
I lost yellow when I lost you,
Cause you shone like the sun,
Purple went too,
With the last time you kissed my neck.
Pink disappeared when you did,
You took your favorite color with you.
I am colorblind
Without you, dear.
Now all that's left
Is the grays of stormy skies ahead.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Birthdays, seem to come and go
Love is always here to stay
Birthdays, like seas, ebb and flow
Love, we know, decides the way...
Birthdays try to tell no lies
Love, we say, belongs to us
Birthdays steadfast on the rise
Love, and joy, without the fuss....
Birthdays proudly show the gray
Love, like elk, is colorblind
Birthdays teach me what to say
Love, abounds, and so sublime ...
Birthday wishes on my lips
Love reminds me to forgive
Birthdays from your body drips
Love is all I have to give ...
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 5:29 AM UTC
To be truly colorblind,
(and I mean truly blind to color),
I see as a heavenly gift.
To never know complexity,
the world's beauties remain untainted.
The masses would say I am missing out,
but ignorance is bliss.
Simplicity is a heavenly gift to me.
Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
I used to live in an achromatic world
Everything was plain and simple
Yin and Yang
Salt and Pepper
Black and White
A coloring page lacking its vibrant
Rainbow of colors
An explosion of reds and lavenders
A blank page, bleak and boring
Until you came around
With your fancy coloring box
And your artistic eye for all things
Colorful
My life without you was stark and unhappy
Because I know that I am very spontaneous
That I am more than the blackest black and
The whitest white
And so are you
I am the entire rainbow in all of its excellency
And you are the first person who is not
Colorblind
- C.M. 5/12/17
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 12:52 PM UTC
Stumbling through this broken dream,
The colorblind artist finds a motif.
For once he wasn't wrong,
When he felt right.
He found more than a distraction from the black and white.
A lilly in the concrete,
To never expire.
I've got a brand new drug,
It's like I've never been higher.
A solitary blossom standing in the debris.
She's the only thing thats really perfect about me.
At this point I can't fall asleep.
It's never been the same,
Ever since you met me.
It's one a.m.
And I'm awake again.
When talking to you,
Sleep is such a waste of our time.
And whats worse,
Than wasting my time with you,
On this earth.
Of our time,
And whats worse?
Which is why we both decided to dive in head first.
A lilly in the concrete,
To never expire.
I've got a brand new drug,
It's like I've never been higher.
A solitary blossom standing in the debris.
She's the only thing thats really perfect about me.
He dropped to one knee,
like he'd done before.
The roots were unearthed,
As he pulled on the flower.
The lilly found a home,
In the palm of his hand,
And the colorblind artist saw beauty again.
It's not the thoughts in the car,
Toward the masquerade.
It's the girl at the concert,
Rubbing elbows with me.
It's not our self concious,
It's not my flaws.
It's how together we can tear all of the negatives down.
of our time.
And whats worse,
Than wasting my time with you,
On this earth.
Of our time,
And whats worse?
Which is why we both decided to dive in head first.
A lilly in the concrete,
To never expire.
I've got a brand new drug,
It's like I've never been higher.
A solitary blossom standing in the debris.
She's the only thing thats really perfect about me.
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 6:08 AM UTC
There was something so intimate about sharing our favorite colors with each other
About sharing something that people deem as unimportant, basic information
"Does it matter?" He asked
And I said "Yes, because it's funny how we can know so much about each other yet still not know the basics"
I want to know the things that most people don't know
I want to see the parts of you that you hide in your shadows
I want those parts of yours that have gathered dust and cobwebs in the crevices of your mind
I want the parts of you that you may have thrown away
Black
Black was his favorite color
And then he followed up with orange
So he likes Halloween colors
Totally cool with that
And he asked me what was mine and I said I'm a bit colorblind but sky blue appeals to me
And he said he liked that
He liked this thing about me that people deem as unimportant
He liked this small piece of knowledge about me and even if my favorite color may just be as small as a sprinkle on a monster banana split, he liked it
I said I wanted to paint my room sky blue
So that when I'm in bed I feel like I'm lying on one of the clouds in the sky
He said he wanted to paint his red
And I said well that's a dark color
But he said that when he was little the sun shined through his red curtains and covered his room in this red light
And he loved it
I liked that about him
I could imagine his little self sitting on his bed staring at the red light that shone through his curtains
And all this red was all he could think about
If he would ask me again today, "what's your favorite color"
I think I would say, "You
Because ever since you came into my life you were the only color I could see. You were the only color I could feel like how you felt the red from your curtain, I felt your love. You made me realize that color is one of the best things the world has to offer. If I was a blind person and I had met you, I've no doubt I would have the best set of imaginary colors in my head because you have the ability to make me feel so much things at the same time and these feelings come out of me like paint, splattering all around creating the masterpiece of our existence. It was the best masterpiece. It was the kind that you didn't have to understand it to love it. You just loved it as it is. You love the color, the unusual mixture of color over color and the mystery of not knowing the reason behind this festival of colors. you came into my life not with smooth gentle strokes using a paintbrush, instead you painted with your fingers. You told me you wanted to feel the colors at the tips of your fingers and imagined that our blood would change color according to our mood. You wanted to feel that moment when paint meets paper, when color meets blankness because that's how it felt when I met you. You made it seem like knowing the favorite color of a person is like knowing what gives life to a person. I can't say my life has been black and white before you because I could see a few colors here and there in very low tones. As if I was looking at life through filtered lens. But because of you, I am no longer colorblind."
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
Imagine a world with peace.
Imagine a world with harmony.
There will be no wars or conflicts.
There will be no hatred.
Innocent people will not die.
Families will never be torn apart.
Imagine a world with happiness.
Imagine a world full of sunshine.
Everyone will get along.
Everyone will come together
As one big happy family
Like what we were meant to be.
Imagine a world of no crime.
Imagine a world of no destruction.
There will be order.
There will be trust.
There will be honor.
There will be no need for arms.
Imagine a world without racism.
Imagine a world without discrimination.
No one will be colorblind.
The world will not be seen in
Black and white or in grayscale.
The world will be a rainbow.
Imagine a world without stereotypes.
Imagine a world without a “mold” or a “model”.
We can all be who we want to be.
We can all wear our own shoes
And wear our own clothes.
We can be ourselves.
Imagine a world through our eyes.
Imagine a world through my eyes.
Imagine a world through your eyes.
If we can imagine the world we want,
We can live in that world.
All we have to do is close your eyes
…
And imagine.
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 10:37 PM UTC
I wish this was pretend
I wish I didn't believe that I was destined
To die alone.
But mostly I wish I wasn't scared.
See paralyzing fear brought me to this moment
Dragging my limp heart along,
Bit by agonizing bit.
Lifeless. Loveless.
Heart.
I was never as inept at anything
As I was with
Love.
An embarrassment really,
Like an eight-year-old outfielder trying to catch a pop fly,
But instead of catching the ball,
I fumble it,
And now I've been kicking the ball,
Unable to pick it up
For years.
Perhaps it was the embarrassment,
That brought me to this point.
A point of no return.
The muddy banks of a Rubicon.
Waiting for me to choose
My final step,
In it's final battle with me.
Perhaps it was I who
Surrendered to it,
Too long ago.
Maybe there is someone out there
For me,
But they better be wearing
A flashing neon sign.
I'm not interested
In subtleties
Anymore.
So if you are out there,
Dress like a box of vibrant orchids.
So that even my colorblind eyes
Might see it to
Believe.
Blind belief is irrational, and
If the best predictor of future behavior is my past.
Then what should I expect
From myself now.
I've tried not to be convinced of false reality,
Ever since I learned the truth
About Christmas presents
When I was 7.
So, I wish this was pretend.
I wish I didn't believe that I was destined
To die alone.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
i wouldn't say that i miss you
but sometimes
when a small memory of you and i plays in my mind
i notice
maybe the colors were always a little brighter with you around
Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 7:58 PM UTC
I've been colorblind these past few months
Unable to see vibrant yellows,
Warm oranges, cool blues
When I look back in the past
All I can see are black and white snapshots
of a life that I don't remember living
An out of body experience
A black and white movie
Anything other then my life
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
I don't feel it, You say. And, pray tell her
name, my sir, that i may find she thee and prithee
Bear me off to southern sounds, fallow fields,
an altar ground, a garland rope of singing springtime snows.
this may be more than i can--;;
YOU
ARE
NOT
WOR
THW
HILE
and i had such an awful dream last night--
you said, Bronwen, my love;
and i could not sweep her hair from the floorboards
beneath which you hid your ***** mags from mice.
because you tell me about it.
WHOAM?
you speak of gOd like dOgs & i am worthless coinage
in the sewers. the sewers find my dress still hanging from your bones.
your bones your bones your piano finger bones
kiss me again
until my lips swell my throat bleeds i do not want you to know how much i crawl spiderlike through the trails of hair in the drain as the autumn leaves the summer leaves the spring buds freeze over hell i am not i am not listening pan-drum please let me say this one last thing:;
he is your accordion player the ***** player man who speaks fluent french and inflected english he is your accordion player on the pipes-----
and you say i do not feel and i reply,
this is too bad too late, chuckle replay as your fantasy walks through the door my team my team she is porcelain lovely see the perfume in your synesthesia colorblind goat footed grandiose Cesar with epilepsy she is your dream she is she is she is!
&meanwhile; the trumpet in soul still plays solfeggio---
1 2 le 3 4 1 2 le 3---1 2 le 3 4 1 3--le 1 le 3 le 1
she is the discord of the seventh in the tenor line
she is membranes she is rain she is towels
LEIGH **** IT
if only if only you weren't so lonely i might call you mine and bring you back homely.
IF ONLY-----Charles weren't so busy while you
stare at silver spoons and cherub smiles
and cupid calls you home again.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:37 AM UTC
The grit in this world seems to be gone,
all of us have just become pawns
in this static, yet enigmatic,
state of mowed lawns, and designer shoes.
Yesterday, I asked for a hammer,
to fix things up around here,
and was asked if I wanted red or blue?
Because everything nowadays is a choice.
I said to the man in a soft voice, "I'm colorblind."
If only to remind him that it didn't matter what color the hammer was.
Because you see, regardless of whether the hammer is red or blue,
I'm still going to nail and glue
this world together again.
And make a world where cranes have feathers
and not tall steel bars,
and life is just a really surreal cigar.
Tasty and lustful.
Mysterious, but certainly not mistrustful.
A world where only adjectives can make a complete sentence,
and not create any repentance.
Are you catching my drift?
Grasping the concept?
If your mind is still adrift,
then leave it there.
Let it float around until it reaches something profound.
Then come back.
Join the rest of us for a mid-afternoon snack,
with lemonade and empathy.
Ginger snaps and morality.
And a rainbow.
Even if I am colorblind.
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 8:24 PM UTC