"rgb" poems
Press Play
It's about time that I got into the action,
A little bit of flawless and now we got traction.
Player one and I'm feeling like a MC,
Onto the next arc with new opportunities.
RGB, I'm gonna light up the industry,
Fresh new world, yeah that **** was built into me.
Yeah, I'm not one to come and act all cynical,
I got a crew behind me,
Repping art so lyrical.
So, this wasn't a miracle,
We put in the work,
Now we headed past the pinnacle.
And this is just the prologue,
Just the beginning.
Even though we been at it,
We gon' keep on winning.
Look out for name on the web,
And here's where I said.
So, when they picturize my story
They'll know I meant it.
Dec 11, 2022
Dec 11, 2022 at 11:27 PM UTC
Your face in gray brownish yellow
torn pages - out of the book
That look that look
Black eyes black hair no smile
Playful hand to camera - no
Mostly a child in your arms
The film on page grew cold to touch
Your sullen cheeks in my hands - go
Last saw you color real life RGB
Sickness made you fallow
What color harrowed tired worn flesh?
Back to that brownish yellow
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
The dark second floor passageway
celebrates its one blessed feature,
a sash window, tarnished panes,
pixels, lit in colours beyond RGB.
An ordered scene of chevron gables,
an art deco arrangement, apex
clasping serpentine rust red pantiles,
pitched protection for the action below.
Steam escaping kitchen windows,
conveying today's menu,
while shining expectant plates await.
A clustered community,
mutering togetherness,
jealousies beneath the breath.
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 1:35 PM UTC
Electric Jesus flash me those pearly
whites
Show me who is worthless
Show me who to loathe
Show me who to ******
Electric Jesus plug me into your power
strips and mechanized hips
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me what is right
Tell me what to love
Electric Jesus with your RGB sedation
sweeping across the nation
Teach me all your sins
Teach me all your greed
Teach me all your hate
Electric Jesus preach our needs and keep
us on our knees
More Money! Praise Electric!
More Power! Praise Electric!
More, More, More ELECTRIC!
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
I, we, spend minutes hours even days
staring at pixels and RGB colors
living life through someone else's journey
gaining a materialistic knowledge
that is rendered useless outside
and sacrificing everything desired
for a compressed, sensible inferiors
in order to save some bucks or years
unintentionally creating a problematic paradox
causing pain and even more confusion
how can the truth, the necessary,
be increasingly stifled?
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
I spiral happ’ly in,
I feel my flesh
dissolve to wet, to
gaseous mess
and flow flow flow
into the asterism
that is her extra latte French roast
Eye...
She asks, “What do you see?”
I see Himalayan diamond dust,
the wind as particle, sharing the
Sun in glints.
I see spiral arms and accretion discs.
I see stardust, moondust, lovedust
in great grand colorful interwebbings of
lust, of truth, of song, of delight, of Us.
I see RGB Grand Walls of stars;
organized in mind but cosmologically
principled.
I see the possibilities of galaxies -
Unformed
Adrift
Reaching
Cooling
Collecting
Heating
Sparking.
Life giving life.
Lifegiving, Life.
I see an unspoken Universe
of Dust -
Awake to Dance,
to dance to Life.
I see Love.
I see Beauty.
I see worlds not yet.
I see suns unshone.
I see comets unknown.
I see tidepools.
I see fields of fuzzies.
I see Seas.
I see mountains and valleys.
I see Forest.
I see Love.
I see her, and in her,
I see a world, a cosmos, a way;
a way I’d rather be.
A way I’d rather live.
I see Love.
I see her.
Through tears,
I see
the limitless warmth of an unlimited
Un iv er se
in her tawny toffee coffee
Eye.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 3:24 PM UTC
TAKING PHOTOS
AND UPLOADING THEM
FOR MY FRIENDS!!!11!!!1!!
i see strewn about me
PILES and PILES of
MIST-COVERED
RGB STORES of
ME^^0RIEZ
~sigh
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
The no-two-snowflakes
phenomenon set my brain
off into a million different
fragments of star, each
looking down on the world
from afar.
You were already up
there, just waiting
to tear
it apart, or maybe not.
You didn’t need sweet
tea so you swirled in
apathy where I took
honey, and you turned
to the screen while
I watched the sheen
of gold
protecting little pockets
of air like they were
all that mattered.
If I protected you that way
you’d say you weren’t
worth my time.
No time is worth
anything, when you’re
going to run out.
Run out to where?
We took still lives in
photography but I couldn’t
bring in honey or pockets
of air or the raindrop
that froze on the airplane
window with ice shattering
and spiraling up around
it, but with the intent to
put the stardust in everything
I touched I arranged
the things for us
since you had something
kind of maybe more important
to do.
You like orange, right?
Yours still looked better
than mine.
Your mind is still in flight.
I wonder if you see the
fragments of ice
on the window of the
emergency exit row.
So snowflakes are no different
than fingerprints,
and neither is made
of stardust bright enough
to make sense
to you.
We’ll all be up there
soon enough, you say.
Whether stardust
or dust.
You love Mersault,
in an indifferent sort
of way.
But I zoom in on these
oranges and the ridges don’t
match, the RGB codes of
every combination of
orange shadow are off
by a letter
and no two oranges are
the same, I take two
photos without moving the camera
and yet something’s
changed.
It takes conscious effort
for me to be the type
of person I’d be friends with
but you do it so easily.
And if you recognize
that as unusual, it’s
one of a kind
just like everything else.
No two anything.
No matter what I look
at, it’s
still life
and I’m still living it.
It’s a hard choice.
You made the same one.
But it was different.
Look up.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
RGB colors mind scramble on your ceiling,
like in our closest amusement park.
Playing underneath it, unicorns and feelings,
making flesh shapes in the dark of your room.
Bioluminescent in its black sea,
I can't swim good but I ride the waves you send me.
You can't read but you're rather well read to me.
Promises wont break, but please bend me
over and over again.
When did I become this sober again?
You get me wanting
to remodel the homes that belong to lonely songs
only so that they can fit a king bed,
extra cool on my side because you're a furnace
that I huddle into and cherish earnestly.
You let me ramble run-ons and babble
or be still and mute, be it
swimming in space or silently disputing
but I can never stay quiet too long.
I can't ever hide whats wrong to you.
Or what's right, so I write to remind you
how beloved this is, unparalleled to whats behind
and how eager I am for what's ahead.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
Blood between the stripes and bodies hanging
from noose after noose
Death the undefeated champion of war is battered and bruised
And tired of the unending **** heap of man hating man hating man
Black eyes and broken tombstone teeth no time to be weary
DING! DING! another round
after round of billion dollars being burned
By the rich greedy bulging gut
of the industrial machine of profit over life
And paid for by the poor and the lives of their children
And they have it all planned out in their blue prints of our misery
To keep the blue collared dreaming the dream just outta reach
By educating the masses to grow up to be nothing but ass's
That believe the perpetuated lie and illusion that it is what it is
And we gotta do what we gotta do
in the name of pride and nationalism
Keep the flag flying high at half mass
Because there is a new national tragedy
ever god blessed ******* day
And keep the people high on the newest gadget and tech
Feeding the mindless humdrum of meta-data high resolution
Flat screen buzz buzz rgb dopamine high
To keep us down on our knees and drooling
Begging for more and more as we accept less and less
Of a life of something more that never will be
As we can't beat the fear by dropping bombs
But Han shoot first so what else can we do
But keep the bullets flying
Nothing to worry about as might will make right
And we're number one we're number one
Keep chanting that lie or the almighty dollar might go off and die
And then what would we do if the rich went out and starved
Who would be who in the who of who's best
When we're all fighting over them same bread crumbs
And no one is better than better
And we're all the worst for the worst
And there's no lie left to be fighting for
When the undefeated champion hangs up its gloves
And old glory is covered completely in blood
Then will we realize that under all our flags
We are all just the same
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC