"multicoloured" poems
* [Part the First]
There's some giddy, childish sensation
The hope of a new generation
Faceless cameras war for my voice
A flashing ocean of stomps and shoves
Taken from me is my choice
Given is a false sense of love
They smile too wide to be true
Contorted and stretched, like some plastic
But they're all I have before the blue
So deep breaths, and then come dramatics
People who pass me by
Don't seem to realise
The emptiness of the sky
When they look into my eyes
They ask:
Is it lonely up in space?
Is it a cold, abandoned place?
Is it bright amongst the stars?
Do you know who you really are?
[Part the Second]
My life has faded to drunken thoughts
Reality doesn't confirm what can't be bought
The multicoloured psychedelia
Of nebula turning to rainbows
Now looks more fake than ever
And so my sanity goes
There's a beast out there, lurking
I'm not sure if it wants me
But my hope is hiding, sulking
From the abyss that can hear and see
The worst way to die is alone
Where there's no one who can help me
As my punishment destroys my home
At least, from my memory
They screech:
It's so lonely up in space
It's a cold, abandoned place
It's too bright amongst the stars
I think I'm dreaming too far
[Part the Third]
The faintest echo of laughter
Presents itself as my only answer
It's distant, like someone drowning in ecstasy
But it rings from the walls to my ears
The effect of the starry-eyed seas
Has mutated into whimpering fears
I know I'm not amongst the stars anymore
But the damage cannot be undone
So I gave myself to the floor
I could lie here, and never see the sun
Space could've never actually existed
Just a vivid fantasy of escape
But my mind has been so twisted
It must've been the cruelty of fate
They wonder:
Was it lonely up in space?
Was it a cold, abandoned place?
Will the stars ever forgive?
Do I still have a life to live?
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
#*Sun rolls down
Weaves a multicoloured carpet
Fades away in the fringes
It’s dark
Towering
Amused
Being placed
At such a height
Overlooking the majestic Sarovar Dam
Musing at the distant past
Hands by the sides
Never forgotten
The Iron Man
For the world to see
Statue of unity*#
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 2:48 PM UTC
Dancing rainbows heckle the sun.
Jealous that everything orbits the star.
Grateful that the Sól of the universe contributes to their existence but they curse in silence...
Appearing unannounced and bringing smiles on rainy days by ironically displaying multicoloured frowns.
Holding grudges over sunsets.
Plotting against sunrise,
Conspiring with the night.
Unsatisfied with it's mere moments of glory.
Still whispering silent thank you's
Bipolar rainbows.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
these thoughts...
they are my own,
walled within the deepest recesses
of my
cerebral labyrinth.
sprouting out of vine covered walls,
are multicoloured blooms
brandishing thorned stems
and
thirsty stigmas,
dripping with
absinthe.
mind full of poison in
permissible amounts...
i am caught in a
web of restless stupor,
anguish...
and regression...
these thoughts...
rationed out sparingly,
for they're not for unready ears
blooms of thought meticulously
triaged before
necessary expulsion.
hairline cracks between
insanity
and peace...
i tread precariously
the fine,
meandering line.
still clutching my flowers
in a tight obstinate grasp...
not letting go
for these tainted blossoms
are
undoubtedly
mine.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
gentleman
i cannot believe nor understand
but just revel in your love
your perfection compared to my frailness
your purity compared to my multicoloured past
I just cant get to grips with it
but i am so blessed, so amazed, so humbled
and though i cannot figure it out
and definitely dont deserve it
I'm letting you define me
I'm letting you rewrite me
I'm letting you determine the steps
safe
in your arms
secure
in your presence
accepted in you
why do i search elsewhere
there's only one perfect gentleman
and I'm so grateful that you have chosen me
that you have graced me with your presence
that you've picked my heart for your love
may i never stop walking beside you
may i never let go of your hand
may i never stop looking into your eyes to define me
you are perfect, i am not
i can't see the way you see
i dont know the way to go
all i know is you've chosen me as your lady
and you are my perfect
gentleman
i end this poem saying
here am i
have my whole heart
my mind, my soul
define me, redefine
lover of my soul
i will never be what you are to me
but fortunately i have an eternity to try
love you gentleman
of my heart
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
You and me and them and you
Alone
In grieving,
In dying,
In laughing, too.
Us and us and them and her,
One spirit
As old as time.
One body
The Gaia's
Green, blue and at last multicoloured.
You, and me and you and me and me and you and you and me,
With twin visions,
Extraordinary reunion
Finally, eye in eye.
You and us, you
Enemies to us
But we not to you,
We love you.
-- Eleanor
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
The strike of the rainbow warriors part 2
We arrive in the rainbow land of mystery and see lots of rainbow people watching us while the bight coloured green ship lands in the dock. The golden goddess watches with delight when a golden sheet is laid down for us to walk upon.
The crowd roars in laughter while our golden army is taken down towards the big bright palace of illusions to meet the king of rainbow land. After reaching the palace a guard dressed in bight orange takes us through towards a big golden study.
A confused white tiger looks around the strange bright palace and starts to feel very scared all of sudden at something in the air . We all comfort the white tiger while its mouth drops with shock at the moving roof above our bodies and the strange atmosphere .
All of a sudden the king of the rainbow people walks in and stands next to his gold desk of power holding his bright hands towards the roof . I hug luitent megs while the horses seem to become more concerned and unsure about the strange king while the room begins to spin about.
The golden goddess suddenly grabs a door handle to escape but get thrown down upon the golden carpet by some sort of strange force . At that moment the room becomes a mist of surprise and the windows have become metal shields of terror while we begin to run about looking for a means of escape .
We all stand in shock when the king transform's into a large pumpkin monster and his bodyguards have become large fire breathing dragon men with long spiked tails. The horses kick out at the dragon men's bodies while they try and beat us down but gets zapped by the king laser gun of hatred .
The dragon men then escort us all towards another room with yellow walls while the pumpkin king throws some magic powder over our scared bodies of terror. we promise to reveal the kings secret to the rainbow people until a smiling red witch with golden hair appears in the room and says we will evaporate into dust powder if we reveal the secret of the pumpkin king.
All of a sudden a door opens and we are ****** out inside the rainbow city with thousands of rainbow warriors cheering and clapping at our golden army. We look with disbelief while a guard of rainbow people escort us towards our bight red hotel of multicoloured glass.
written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:33 PM UTC
I waved goodbye to the oak tree
And felt the cool breeze surround me
Looked up to the multicoloured sunset
And down to the assortment of sienna leaves
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
Today I walked to the park and back
And saw suburbia rearranged into dizzying distortions
All the trees had a purplish tint
And on the grass, I saw multicoloured light reflecting off the dew
When I got home
I attacked all the imagery with a dagger to reshape reality
And a blank mirror to recreate the world in my head.
The world that was quiet is humming again
I hear choirs of crickets and choral basslines
Cacophonous and ecstatic in the constant confusion
The dull concrete is shot open with marquee moonlight
Indulgence pouring out, free-flowing like communion
And painted onto canvases like rain on a car window
Daydreams and delusions are ice cream melting, sticky and sap-like on your chin
Clouds pixelate with diamond edges
Voices ring out in a flurry
And there isn't a soul in sight.
So I breathe in the air
And let all the sounds and smells and limitations of reality colour my imagination once again
Daydreamed delusions and nightmarish reality are one
Filaments in the vibrant violence
Until the summer fades away again.
Aug 18, 2023
Aug 18, 2023 at 7:25 AM UTC
1. Owl Of Night
Hoot cracks the night air,
Rustling rodents stands frozen,
Shock, swoop, attack prey.
2. Bat Of Night
Clear sight of blindness,
Sonar sounds rebound; its wings
cut fog; vampire.
3. To The Eagle
Giant golden flight,
Endless grace and smoothly glides,
Strong; its nation falls.
4. To The Graceful Swan
Elegant swimmer,
Pure white like virginal snow,
Paired to bitter end.
5. The Butterfly
Multicoloured gift,
Taken by the gusts to blend
like petal to plant.
6. The Butterfly Effect
Toxic explosion,
Hong Kong is destroyed; travels,
Condemns London air.
7. King Of The Jungle
Magnificent beast,
Ruler of his skilful pride,
Stalks African plains.
8. Roar Of A Tiger
Powerful calling,
Echoes ‘cross the heated land,
Mighty animal.
9. A Proud Cat
Sits in the garden,
Ears pricked, curled tail, statuesque,
Pride clear in her purr.
10. A Dog
…is a mans best friend,
…brightens the darkest of days,
…guarantees friendship.
11. The Wolf
A midnight howler,
Ghostly happenings occur,
Silhouetted; still.
12. The Polar Bear
Camouflaged in white,
Against the snow he hides out,
Tough, sturdy and pure.
13. God and the Devil
One high in the clouds,
Symbol of goodness; he’s blessed,
One below the ground.
14. To The Heavens
Are you really there?
Floating land of peaceful rest,
Will I be let in?
15. To Hell
Overwhelming flames,
Dead with red burns, smoke filled lungs,
Worse than hell on Earth.
16. To Mother
You granted me life,
Cared, and still do, for my health,
Made happiness real.
17. To Father
Encouraged and led,
Guided me with your being,
Created this man.
18. To My Siblings
Sister and brother,
On my shoulder no my back,
Love, care, lend and steer.
19. To A Child
Tiny newborn boy,
Asleep in his mothers arms,
The storks’ joyful gift.
20. To A Friend
A supporting hand,
To turn to, cry with and trust,
To laugh with and love.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
A florescent moon
hangs high
above
the multicoloured
twinkling stars...
where angels and faeries dance
proclaiming hope
and peace
in flashing neon.
Synthesised choirs sing
as plastic bells
pretend to chime.
Yet
I stand alone
beneath the mistletoe
blowing kisses
hoping they reach you
in time
for Christmas.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
Kind faces smiling,
Nodding politely at words
They don’t seem to understand.
Show me pictures
Showing the richness of
A faraway distant land.
Multicoloured motor cars,
Brown apartments rising high
In Puerto Rican skies.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 8:52 PM UTC
So u've found a secret passageway.
Round the downtown underground walkway.
But how did u get there?
So u've multicoloured my monochrome thoughts. Coincidentally grasping the brick ground.
But can't you see that I'm running around in circles?
So you were the one who triggered the bullet.
Up above the luminous sky, so high.
But will it ever fall back down?
And so, you've met a thrilling fate.
That cut and sliced all the threads of life.
Rallying all my fully loaded dreams, and fragments of nightmares.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
It was all there, and it was real,
It was my first and I thought it beautiful,
Then we closed our eyes, and it happened again,
What was real? I couldn't quite comprehend.
Then I felt it,
The hunger, the pain for more,
I captured his lips with mine,
And away we went to another place.
I hadn't confessed,
I'm telling you it was he,
But he was soft and gentle,
Not judging like many would be.
So I sat still as he kissed my lips, my neck,
Then travelling up to my forehead and my cheeks,
When we opened our eyes again, it was like gazing into a river,
Our eyes were so close I could see the rings and shades
multicoloured blues,
I never noticed that before.
Then there was a twinkle in his eyes, and he burst out laughing,
I joined him, mixing my fingers in his,
He stroked my hair, and kissed me again,
This time though, as though he would never let go,
But I liked it, his arms around me and his shoulder to my ear,
We fit perfectly together,
And that's all I needed to hear.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
The roads long
taper on the end
A memory, unfolds
at every bend
Exotic trees, and
Silver cascade falls
Misty mountain peaks
Lotus in the lake
Lush multicoloured flowers
At the Bryant Park
Horses to ride
Pink candy floss
Kodaikanal - ‘The Gift of the forest’
As it’s rightly known
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 12:13 PM UTC
Are an interesting thing.
Because they appear in all headspace
And stratum of conscious
Orchestra slow walk of life-
In the hazy Druid gaze of early morning waking days
To the moment of the crystal revelation;
The hardwood can look dreamlike, soft
But just as easily manifest creation.
Sinewy contortions of the multicoloured drapes
To the kind and gentle ghosty in the sun;
A derealized 'umm, wait a sec' march backwards in the mind
Or the truth that I and this wood frame are one.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 9:21 PM UTC
The face of South Africa
is a multicoloured face
hair of various ethnicities
eyes from blue to black
many languages,dialects and slang
customs and culture a kaleidoscope
What is a South African?
Can one really define?
Except by the beat in the heart
of the one birthed in this nation
or adopted this as home
White, Black,Coloured, Indian, Chinese...
the list goes on and on...
I am a South African
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
I don't suit hats
and I'm not their cup of tea.
My head is just the wrong shape
and it's far too small you see.
So the hats that I have
quite simply have to be
of the jokey, laughing,
giggling, silliest variety.
I've a pink hat with bobbles,
and a purple fluffy beast,
an Arsenal grey with dangling braids,
and a multicoloured feast
of points and tassles, braids and swirls.
I guess I'm not like other girls.
But none of the boys
will walk along with me.
Still, I don't mind. I love daft hats,
and my daft hats love me.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
click
click
clack
On a white marble floor
If you're a woman,
you already have
one foot out the door
of a room filled with
all the conversation
and opportunities
that a man can afford.
This is a scene we've all seen before.
Paid way less
when you're told
that you worked way more.
I'm sure a client will adore my face
in a meeting,
but what do i do with the horror
when he hears me speaking?
I'm reeking of the sour aftertaste of everyday misogyny.
My worth measured
by the distance between
my skirt and the floor.
And when I protest,
politely, of course
Being told that I can do better,
I can be more than a bore.
My skin revolts
From the last time a colleague
brushed his hand accidentally
against my everything.
My strength and independence rot
in catacombs made from begrudging wombs,
waiting for their lives to begin
before building a tomb for another.
My ears hear no corporate conflict.
My eyes read no unjust verdict.
My knees wobble of no panic.
My voice even now is not frantic.
I try to use my woman card as a shield,
But they already know I'll yield
Because sadly
Feminism, safety, and my daily routine
don't get along very well with each other.
If I could stretch myself to my full capacity;
Correction.
If you'd let me stretch myself to full capacity,
I'd be taller than these nine yards,
Stronger than this silken thread ,
Darker than this black,
Louder than this naked mic.
My worth is equal to the number of folds in this sari.
Uncertain.
Defined.
Redefined.
Ever changing.
As I shift move walk stumble run shuffle sprint
Dive
Into the storm.
Riot chhod,
I'm a civil war of colour.
Black sari
Black eyes
Black bindi
Golden jhumkas
Red lips
Multicoloured sword at my hip
Swinging at the shackles they placed on me.
Din ke dus dangey lad jaati hu mai,
Saal ki solah siyaahein bharke ruk jaati hu main,
Kabhi kahin khade rehne ki jagah mil jaye,
Toh iss duniya ki acchhaai se thak jaati hu main.
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC
Many rocks.
Small and large.
Rough and smooth.
Sandy and hard.
Multicoloured and plain.
Are spun around for days
inside the revolving bin.
Until all impurities are
worked out of them.
The process is long
but it has a glorious outcome.
For the rocks emerge
polished and shiny.
As treasures they've become.
"The hardest rocks come out the shiniest,"
says the craftsman.
And I think of Christ the Cornerstone.
And His wise discipline.
Like the rocks,
He may turn us with force,
and the process may be long.
With trials threatening to drown.
While He refines His own.
He must use what is necessary,
to cleanse us of our heart's impurities.
Then He polishes us
and turns us into gems of beauty.
And the hardest stones among those that are His,
come out the most beautifully polished.
I fall on my knees as I consider His ways.
And I pray...
"Lord, refine me. Cleanse me of my impurities.
Polish me. As hard a stone as I can be. And
turn me into a gem of beauty. For Your glory."
He gently picks me up.
And places me inside the revolving bin...
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC
Conversations linger in the air like water vapour,
As well looked-after manicured fingers sip multicoloured
cocktails out of silly straws,
and grip tightly on hourglass shaped glasses
lipped with sugar and lip-gloss.
Its 5:30 and the incongruous smells of barbecue
from balcony grills, and squid and
grilled haloumi and garlic from the Almond Bar behind me and
sweet gelatos and small cream cakes from the narrow shop called Messina
seem to brush every sense. The whole suburb speaks.
The walls whisper behind
me and the grey concrete slabs speak a language that I can't interpret. Apathetic
hipsters gaze blankly at the street from the stairs of their apartment block.
What a pleasurable patchwork pastiche that pulsates through my senses.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 6:08 AM UTC
Nothing remains there anymore,perhaps few stains on the floor where the body lay,sadly,
badly scrubbed and faint signs where death outlines in multicoloured decadence,his eminence,the one who went when wings lent him the final flight.
Tomorrow night they'll hold a wake and take a minute to remember him,whose hold on life was getting slim ,and it was time for him to go,but they will show due deference to what was once his eminence,then stuff their maws and fill their paws with good food and fine wine.
It happens all the time don't be surprised, for when the time comes that you fly away,they'll have a pray and settle in, to eat what's left in your bread bin.
Then they'll go too,they always do
but who will hold a wake for them?
Worry not,
for there are always men to feast upon the dead.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:48 AM UTC
Hall Of Blank Portraits
To my father,
I paint you as the sea,
Ebbing and flowing
In my memory.
Drifting in the doldrums
Immortal and serene,
Sleeping forever
In blues and green,
I sit on the shore
And dip my feet,
Fearing your portrait
Will remain incomplete.
To my mother,
I sketch you in chalk,
Across a torn canvas
Where my demons walk,
Every brushstroke
Dusty and smudged,
Devoid of the colours
You have always begrudged,
I kneel in the nothingness
Cold and dank,
Praying your portrait
Will always remain blank.
To my wife
I paint a pastiche,
The detail and shading
A masterpiece,
Some of the hues
I will need to borrow
From the darker years
And the times of sorrow,
Today I blend them
Into the colours of your face
Tomorrow your portrait
Will take pride of place.
To my son
I create a collage,
An abstract of shapes
You can sabotage,
Rearranging the pieces
In the chaos of your mind,
Forming some kind of sense
From the images you find,
I watch you methodically
Cut and paste,
Your portrait will never
Be worked on in haste.
To my daughter,
I colour in pastel shades,
Subtle white lace
And multicoloured brocades,
Basking in the sunlight
That lights up your face
Where you'll always pretend
You're in a better place,
I stand on the edge,
Distant and alone,
Your portrait is only one
I will never own.
To my siblings,
I draw you as trees,
Rigid in stature,
Defying the breeze,
The roots are tangled
In crumbling rock,
The branches separate
Where they should interlock,
I stand in the forest
Alone and lost
Selling your portraits
At little or no cost.
To my friends,
I etch you in gold
So the creases that define you
Can never unfold,
The plaque will be small
But the lines true,
The faces I will polish
Will be but a few,
I reflect in the image
Blurred and a folly,
I will frame your portraits
With melancholy.
To my lovers,
I depict you weeping,
Washed in watercolours
Bleeding and seeping,
And on your tears
I will always sip
As off the parchment
You slowly drip,
I will mop your faces
Until the paper is dry,
I will keep your portraits
Until I die.
To my life,
I charcoal in greys,
Layer upon layer
For the rest of my days,
Eventually the blackness
Of sadness and rage
Will become solid layers
On a liquid page,
I will live in my comfort zone
In an empty hall
And hang blank portraits
On a forgotten wall.
©RJVHorton2014
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
I had walked on this lands
when I was young
The green nature ,
magnificent horses ,
multicoloured birds ,
the blue sky ,
tall trees , scattered sunrays
and wild flora and fauna
accompanied me on this walk
around this beautiful island .
This nature's land
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
In the freshness of morning glory
Walk I out to breathe fresh air...!
Sweet scent of yellow flowers are
A beautiful carpet on the road...!
Multicoloured beauty the flying
Butterflies hovering as angels...
Take one to a dream land of heaven!
Rotating water sprinklers wetting
Green lawn of the park is wonder
As the dancing dame of rainbow!
Morning sunshine getting brighter
Sunny romantic scene is ready for
The lovers to start romance of day
As in movie of Nature fantasy ever!
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 3:01 AM UTC