"greyscale" poems
I've gotten so used to greyscale
On this faulty monitor
That I've almost forgotten what colors look like
As they dance across the screen
I have had enough of this monochromatic monotony
So I snip wires, rip out cords
Do anything I can to see if I can get the color back
The only cable I leave alone is the one connecting it to the wall
I stand there in the robotic wreckage
And see a bit of red blinking on the screen
My world is not yet in technicolor
But this is a start.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Lately I’m obsessed with the black and white photos of the world. The way they bring out the details you didn’t think you’d see in your life.
Lately I’m obsessed with the hidden greyscale of my life. The little spots or blemishes I didn’t know I had in between the cracks of my mind.
Lately I’m obsessed with knowing all I can know about how to forget my past. How to find those ancient remedies or dark coffees and fruity teas that will stop the pain in my heart for a little while.
Even though these obsessions seem so tiny compared to my big thoughts and wild dreams.. I can’t stop thinking of what’s next. Mystery lies on the horizon of my new obsession & how I will handle it.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 7:23 PM UTC
I want to tell her
But i can't.
I watch the spring rain fall.
A gentle tapping,
Sort of rapping
On the window's pane.
I focus on the sound until it fades.
I close my eyes and remember the day,
The scene is painted in a greyscale haze.
There stands you
Across the room
Enveloped in blue.
Your favorite colour.
It's late on that late winter's night,
And we're with our group.
If I said I knew who was there
I would be lying
Because it was you I was eyeing.
I'll skip the cliches, like
Butterflies
Or, better yet,
"Love at first sight"
Be as they may,
They all came true that night.
A casual glance became
A gaze became
A smile.
Once,
Twice,
Thrice,
Then Five,
We held it for a while.
I take a drink and pause the haze.
Minutes become hours that drag on for miles
We found ourselves in that grassy field
Dotted with trees,
And rabbits,
And owls.
A hot summer day-
The south suffers waves.
Hand in hand we make our way
Through the trail.
We fall behind our friends,
There's something I have to tell.
I stumble and fumble
Through letters to string,
I can't think of what to say.
And you say it's okay.
I smile and hold you close,
A mixed sense of pleasure morose.
Your lips touch mine,
And my heart explodes.
I can't believe we let each other go
We became 'twixt,
Ivy to our bones.
Again
Time lapses
There I am standing
There you are
Hanging
On him.
My rage demanding
His end.
But you come between
Deny instead.
Say I'm not right in the head,
Well, baby,
Love killed me dead.
I turn to walk away
And in turn you turn to
Return to he
Who shook your leaves.
So we've parted ways
And all was well
Until recently.
When I examined
A mural
And saw I missed a shard.
A blue tile
The final part
To my stain-glassed heart.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
i like to revel in the grey
black and white too straight
i like to read in between the lines
i would like for you to be mine
but only if you want to
I only want you in this room, underneath the full moon
kiss until it’s noon, is forever too soon?
from dusk to dawn, the king or the pawn
as long as you want to play, my hand is yours to take
from weak to strong, we can build each other up
as long as you want to lay, always together through the night and day
Mar 11, 2022
Mar 11, 2022 at 10:07 AM UTC
“Put pressure on it, it needs more pressure”
Holding your wounds shut
That senseless force is what took you away
Pressure- to be... whilst not desiring to be
You saw the clouds moving in greyscale
I saw the hills below scattered in shades of green,
Cavernous, shadowed, cryptic, familiar-
We were advised to go as the crow flies
I cried to a nameless God that your crow’s feet
Were from insurmountable happiness, not the pressures endured
I’ve forgotten much since the storm some-178 weeks ago
Though my body remembers yours over and over again
My skin has yours imprinted, correlated
Forged into one point on the axis between here and there
You the X, I the Y
The Earth crept between the crevices, curling
Through the distance between the Right radius and ulna
Elbows breaking knuckles, blood remains to be spilt
Blood doesn’t connect, if anything it merely separates
Scarecrows don’t help much when the crops won’t grow this year
Ants crawled out of the barrel of a shotgun
Observing the process of cleaning bones after tragedy
Follow the moss to find your way North with no direction-
Sometimes on the other side it’s not greener,
It’s more terrifying than ever before
Terrain untouched, unspoiled, sacred-
Climb up the trees with me, find your quiet
We won’t carve our names but we’ll find our niche
You’ll have quills and I’ll have armor
Not even the thought of stolen arrows,
Lost time through distance,
Or perhaps a slew of chemical imbalances
Can reach us up here
I chose to glue your pieces back together with mud and straw
Taken from the fallen, the loved and now distant memories
You may be an abandoned military base offshore
What was once used by many-
Witnesses life again, life of a different kind
The vegetation will ease its way into the cracks
Constructed when the foundation began to decay
It has a beauty of its own, one of self-sustainment
An everlasting beauty that connects itself
To the surrounding extravagance, often times ignored,
Death isn’t the only way to be forged into nature, remembered
Fear doesn’t always win, nor death do us part so soon
I hope your skin and bones remember before the end
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
I saw a rainbow,
Looking at our dreadful situation.
You notice the colors it gives,
But,
It's the inverted smile I see,
Like happiness faltering to its curve,
Just masking it with ROYGBIV.
Even so,
It never fails to share every hue,
To lift every mouths to grin,
And to give color to the greyscale scene.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 4:28 AM UTC
Woke up in a dream under asphalt trees
soaked in the sap of the sweltering city
wearing these old rat rags
and sneering at the concrete
Greyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve
This town'll fuckin' **** ya
and drop a coin on your grave
dig your way up to the daylight
and hang on to your *****
Waking up
Snapping out.
It's not so easy, is it?
Waking up and snapping out...
The barge is afloat on the sidewalk streams
Burns in the summer, ******* doused in Spring
the bums puke in corners
children ***** in the alleys
Sinking hulks. "Abandon ship!" on the galleys
These waves'll ******* **** ya
and pull you down in the deep
this dream ain't worth waking for
But we can't get to sleep.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
you have entered the realm of life after separation.
gone are the daisies she tucked behind your ears. it’s autumn now.
you are getting older. your boots are heavy and your chest is heavier.
you were given something gleaming, but it isn’t yours,
anymore. you seethe in your own ache.
this is your first silver october. the blushing leaves have gone greyscale,
like an i love lucy rerun. they evoke a stab of grief between your lungs.
you have to rewrite the story of your life now,
go forward knowing that everything after will be somehow
lesser than her. no person will reach into you the way she did.
you are a lost girl. resignation is all you have left,
resignation and streets bitter with dead leaves, streets where you run and shout
a silent prayer of loss.
but then:
but then.
you are reciting a poem for a room of people and your words
belong to your body now. a deep glow has fallen over everything,
right onto a girl you’ve only seen once before.
front row. face open. taking in what you are saying,
your retrospective sorrow, with a particular kind of attentiveness
you have needed all along.
everyone is listening, but she is hearing you.
in that moment, when you are raw and earnest,
you think that perhaps there’s something different about
this one. how even when you are done, she still seems to be
hearing all the words you cannot say.
and then:
and then.
spring is thrusting its way out of cold dirt
and you are twisting and breathing and this girl,
this girl, she is one million ******* shades of red. all you can do is
look at her without turning away, as if you could do such a thing
even if you tried. maybe this is how rembrandt felt
when painting night watch.
full of thick, rich burning too immense for language to hold.
this girl, this girl in the midst of life after. this girl so good
she’s put meaning back into the messy coming of spring.
you have learned not to trust. not to believe.
to love with a window open, a hand on the door,
in case of incineration, ready to run.
but this girl, says your heart,
says the peachy light bleeding onto her lips and nose,
this girl is not like those who came before her.
you’ve been a stranger to yourself for so long, but this girl
is reintroducing the two of you, rubbing you raw with longing.
do you understand, you want to say to her,
how stunning you are.
standing there like that. in your sincerity and laughter, as it weren’t
breath snatching to witness. as if it were commonplace,
unexceptional. as if you weren’t the tenderest work of art.
do you.
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
Some days are just black and white
Greyscale, monochrome
Just plain
Vanilla ice cream
Other days are vibrant and astounding
Kaleidoscopes viewed through kaleidoscopes
Completely original and new
Mint chocolate chip
And for me it seems
There's no in-between
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
Can you imagine a life in black and white?
I wouldn't like to,
and greyscale never did expose the beautiful complexion
on which I planted fervent kisses
and meaningful whispers
hushed only with the lips of a soul
I can never seek to fathom.
And how would we see
the colors of our wounds?
The fangs of our demise
finding purchase in our skin
and draining all reds, blues, greens.
I think you bleed yellow,
and perhaps that is why you slit your velvet graces,
to find the happiness you know
is somewhere very
very
deep within.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Sleeping in my own lap
Phantom Slender Passenger
Watching greyscale skys
Winding wet green solitude
Look to the mountains
Unattainable misted peaks
Climb onto the unseen face
Natures peak of privacy
Sleeping in my own lap
Phantom Slender Passenger
Watching a travellers slumber
Ghost strokes of matted hair
Materialize, take a seat
Take my hand, take a nap
Take some time, Take it all
Dream of nature's privacy
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Slender Passenger sleeps in my lap
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
Huddle
And shiver
And scowl
turn away now
from snow-sunburnt faces
in cracked and frostbitten window panes
A chance taken lightly
won't wash away so easy
when the years mislaid thicken
and lips no longer speak freely
So I'll age, here, in silence
and dance with ghosts of better days
cross yellowing pages
stitch Bighorn peaks to the snowy plains
Your brown eyes were wet.
My greyscale soul had shattered.
While you left and forgot me,
I divorced from all that matters
Teeth grind
ears dull
days fade out
Shuffle
And stumble
Sit down
hunch away, now.
A strange face in red light
dissembles truths out of frosting frames
A proverb so simple,
"Not all is gold which glistens,"
Could have lived in the shimmer,
but I never listened.
So I'll dream, here, out westward
sleep next to bones of better days
let my drunken memories
trace bus routes back up to Winnipeg
Your brown eyes were wet
as roadway stitches unraveled
My blue eyes filled with question marks,
then they hardened up into gravel
I'm echoing footfalls on stairs
in the night
You're our spectral laughter in summer
bathed in cups of wine
Fade out.
Teeth grind. Ears dull. Days fade out.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
As you read the words,
I have written about,
The circles under my eyes,
The bruises on my skin,
Oh, all these stories,
Of my cold, little heart.
I wonder what image of me,
Shows up on the screen,
At the back of your mind,
In greyscale or in the filter fade,
As your lips mouth out,
The words that could never slip off mine.
I wonder if you think,
Of the words you have read,
Written from the tip of my pen,
Typed out from the keys of the alphabet,
Sung along to a four chord strum,
As you pause yourself from the occupied.
I wonder if my words,
Ever made you look back through the pages,
Of the books you have read,
And had you started on something new,
For people had words as skin,
And you needed quotes for tattoos.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
My life was stuck in greyscale
Until you came along
With beautiful watercolors.
You painted the skies
With amethyst and sapphire
With coral and azure.
You painted the autumn trees,
With amber and titian
With hazel and maroon.
You flooded the dark oceans
With turquoise and navy.
You sprinkled the grey mountains
With shimmers of flaxen sunlight.
My entire life exploded
Into an exquisite rainbow.
And then you left.
And the radiant world
You had painted for me
Slowly faded
Back into anaemic dust and gloom.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tick
Tick
Clock watch
Tap your foot impatiently
Waiting for it to come
Counting the minutes
Bored of counting the minutes
Bored of waiting
Bored of boredom
Day dreaming of escaping the monotony
The masses of uniformed clones
Wearing what they're told to by the media
Doing what they're told to do by society
Too scared to question
Living to work
Doing the same day in, day out
The train pulls in the platform
A little late as expected
Packed as expected
Silent as expected
Dead eyes staring out
A glimmer of hope extinguished in each one
Dreams gone but surely not completely forgotten
Run, run, run as fast as you can
Run from your boredom
Run for your life
Run to save your life
Be the colour in a greyscale world
Make the most of every minute
Do things that make you happy
Work to live
Live
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
You came into my life in February.
At the beach, of all places.
Of all my favorite places.
When I was wandering through greyscale
You sparked in front of my face, blinding me
And I realized that maybe even though I wasn't looking
In that moment, meeting you was my reason.
We spent the first five months of knowing each other
Distant and casual and nothing other than friendly.
Being separated by 100 miles isn't so conducive for dating.
I think that made things better.
Enough time to talk.
Enough to realize I could be really interested.
In my humble opinion, we started dating September 4, 2015.
When you took me out for my birthday,
I think our thoughts were running along similar lines;
I want there to be more.
I really wanted that to be a date.
For what we were doing to be a thing we could keep doing
And not because I was lonely or I'd been single too long.
But because in a world where I hadn't dated in two years because I didn't want to
And no one I'd met was worth spending my time on
You appeared and I went, "Oh."
I want to kiss you so badly but I'm so nervous.
In no way do I mind being the one to make plans for us.
I'm a Virgo, it's in my nature
And as long as you keep saying yes, I'm happy.
But it was such a genuinely wonderful surprise to have you come back with ideas.
To me, that doesn't say, "We should carve pumpkins"
It says, "I'm interested in spending more time with you."
And that always makes me smile.
Today I got my nails painted your favorite color.
What am I doing?
Half the time on tumblr these days I'm just looking for quotes to describe how I feel.
About life; about you.
These days, you're in most of the dreams I remember.
All I'm saying is at this point I might be in just on the side of too deep to back out of the water without good reason.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
today i woke up to a spirit.
i opened my eyes to nothingness, but i could feel the warmth radiating off of the dip in the bed.
at first i was dumbfounded
where were you? could you be the spirit?
and so i fell in l-o-v-e with it.
wherever i go the spirit follows.
i feel it hold my hand
i feel it massage my shoulders
i feel its l-o-v-e giving me subtle back hugs through my days
seeing its blank pages and crestfallen words in a misted silhouette
dripping invisible ink and cloudless skies
it is not tall or short, nor boisterous or timid
its l-o-v-e lives in hushed sighs
thriving in times of need and want
licking at insecurity and toeing the line between warm and unwelcome
the spirit’s words fill the stillness
replacing anything that was missing with a brand, NOT-MISSING, in bold red font
sorting emotions into definitions and not feelings
it plays lorde on tuesdays and falls asleep at three a.m.
organizing my books alphabetically because everything must make sense
things always needs to make sense
It listens.
the day you left i fell in l-o-v-e with a spirit.
the embodiment of your memory
the sweetness of its silence
the comfort of an embrace
i, reality, woke up today
you, abstract, seep into crevices where you do not belong
turning everything into meaningless greyscale
poking out of my head and into my business
into my life
into my spirit that reeks of ink and dust
as i choke and gag on the imaginary memories
slurring on sour, dingy and desperate hidden behind my teeth.
my spirit and i play mitski on fridays
it doesn’t speak
and it dare not sing along
prodding at delusion, the spirit wipes my tears
mouths that it will be here forever
smiles that you are a future tense
that the bed was always empty, and the warmth was my own heartbeat
that my soul would not let me down so easily
you left in a future tense
where the bed is not empty, and i do not wonder of nothing
where you will speak, and you will laugh, and you will play christmas songs in the middle of july
rebranding everything missing NOT-MISSING to memories
and once the spirit leaves me, too?
at least i'll be prepared for the emptiness
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 3:08 AM UTC
I pledge allegiance
to the genuine warmth down my guts
and the shivering drops of your sweat
all over my oh so lucky existence.
Philotes won't have mercy
on my sore knees and my thirsty heart.
"Acquire patience, my beloved child"-
he'd say as my ***** would beg
for one more lie of yours.
Your radiance whisked me away,
pulled the carpet from under my feet
and left me wandering the greyscale
of placebo love,
lust overflow
and polite embraces.
I like to lay myself on your sheets
for I can't stand falling for you
each and very time
I get up and leave.
I've done my nails, sugar,
so I can write a love song
down your spine.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
You said I had a face like
cinder blocks at sunrise:
Ash grey staining
red in the ending night.
The late winter cold
leaked down into my bones.
You pulled my hood up,
kissed me once and walked home.
I was a weak
kneed floater
that night.
It was a month to forget buried heart dents and debts.
You let me ride on the back of one more losing bet.
The deck's cut,
it's raining
outside
If I had
one more card
tucked up my sleeve, I'd lay it down
you wouldn't play
'cuz your hand's weak
Game's no fun. Folding. Heading straight out the door
Cashed in your chips and that's fine.
I'll take off and try to stay dry.
Your living room was greyscale
blue and white at midnight.
Ash on my tongue,
had X's in my eyes.
I'll choke down the bile
building up in my throat--
this mouth full of crow.
I'll walk out, grab my coat.
from your couch
turn the **** and
I'm gone.
It was a month to forget buried heart dents and debts.
You let me ride on the back of one more losing bet.
Kick up my heels, over pavement, walk home.
Half-rain and half-snow. Half a mile left to go.
the jig's up
and our steps were
all wrong.
Let's take this
time to find
some ground for standing. Thawing out,
I'll leak away
with the meltwash.
One more week draining to the Columbia
and your front step'll be dry.
...and your front step'll be dry...
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
Rain is pouring
Duotone black and white.
Are there colors
Behind the greyscale sky?
A distant song
Rang from a blue cello
Is love hiding
‘neath the striped umbrella?
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
i didnt know the world could be so colourful
until i met you
and now its stripped,
greyscale
empty.
i hope i find a new rainbow soon,
one that won't leave me
in a world full of clouds and fog.
Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 5:18 PM UTC
Sitting, dull, fingers fixated
Shadow covers shimmering screen
All feelings subsided or degraded
Our choices made have their meanings faded
We are not following our shallow dreams
In the hollow, our greyscale souls scream
What is this phenomenon?
Soullessness in lack of love
Or enlightenment in lack of light?
Dissonance attracts to me
Pieces fall like grey floating dust
Darkness calls in on an autumn dusk
Boons beneath our silence
And silent thunder
What decadence lies, so deep
Beneath a white sky?
How do I repair myself from under?
And hear clear my love’s calling?
When my eyes have been torn asunder
I cannot bear to make myself die
I keep switching from ditch to ditch
No man’s land is lost without light
The mist forming atop my mind
No longer blind me from sight!
Not without my heart’s light
To put up a valiant fight
In the highest of harmony
I shall let my soul take flight…
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Today's sunset tints the air thick and orange , clothes stick to the skin as skin sticks to the air
it's sticky to say the least -
the thunderstrom clouds light up shades of violent violet and dusty sahara pinks and sand dune yellows
the sky , so blue is covered by high altitude brushes of greyscale hues and whisphers of floating away dreams
splitting at the seams with reality's crest on breast
the sea breeze whips up the trees and a respite from the deep heat of day as night slinks in
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 6:32 AM UTC