"proselytised" poems
there may
or may not
exist
certain colours
that the human eye
is unable
to see
an insipid
blueish-yellow
an unpalatable
greenish-red
each said
to be impossible
for our eyes
to process;
if seen
it could appear
in all manner
of forms
but would remain
indescribable
they say that
butterflies can see
the ultraviolet spectrum
and that
the honey bee
sees in infrared;
and so
it would not
be too absurd
for a person
to dismiss
the "impossible"
to believe
in the possibility
of the as-yet
unseen
although
scientifically
the only way
to perceive
these "forbidden" hues
is through trickery
and constraint
by forcing the brain
into seeing both
antagonistic colours
simultaneously
and
without reprieve
until the border
between
the opposing shades
finally dissolves
there may be
a truth
but it is hidden
somewhere between
the plausible
yet impalpable
and the proven
yet proselytised
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 11:30 AM UTC
As the follower sheep,
Send forth their crooked emissaries.
To bend the goodness,
with a sinister sickening voice
I fold my arms,
Inside my head,
And stare you down.
My eyes will burn.
My look will unsettle.
The more you try,
The more resistant I become
To following you.
You may hold your belief dear,
And it may comfort you.
But know this, If it comforted me,
I would be by your side,
And not opposite You.
Showing the wrath of the proselytised.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC