Color of emotions

Aghast

In a dull space
concrete grey
with a heavy blackness draped
like curtains over the obvious

metaphors hanging like martyrs
transparent as new puddle water
too light to be picked up
and hard hitting enough with the weight of nothing
to boast the greatest momentum

behind the red line I drew
when the skies moved fast and
I was blue

now turning pale with a forced indifference
diluting in the colours of dirty rain
and old papers

you do not paint my darkness
but you turn off my lights like an opportunist
because you always could

I See Your Sound    



For you I'd
polish the night sky
so the stars gleam
some more
take you to
the other side
of what's to be  
past the azure
just wait
for when you wake
to my knocking
on your door
then our time'll
re-integrate
from snow flakes
on olden floors
I find
that in this life
you've revived
the best of all
my inner highs
where golden skies
illuminate
my very core .


Yellow explodes
to the note of  high E
the particles re-mould
then implode
to the green of calm C  
if I join them together
it's your limelight
I feel
from gone days
to forever
you're the splendour
of sound
I see .

A Time That's Never Been    


So you want me to rap on your door
gatecrash your party get real close on the floor
travel to far galaxies on a dragonfly which has two seats
where all the dark turns bright , and blind can see
take a picture with your mind and share poetically
let's go to the inside of a time that's never been
would you lie down by my side ,take a ride
where I do dream would you each night hold my hand
in far lands as we do sleep .


Your violet strikes along primary colours
turning skies to white I'm your rainbow ,I'm a brother
you're a diamond in disguise as a human undercover .
and maybe I'll drop by and play you a few numbers  .

The End of Innocence

And maybe it goes something like this.

The saint on the dresser,
her doe eyes beckoning.
The green of the walls gone too pale.

A sound like thunder
in the kitchen.
The crash of pots and pans.

This thing inside you, squirming
to be let out. The way it tastes
like rain. A suggestion of blue.

Your mother's rhinestone brooch
wrapped in browning lace and hidden
in the drawer. Bones in the corsets
flattening your spine,

children laughing in the yard
and suddenly you’re crying
into the dark of your hands.
The blood in your underwear
and a shoe gone missing.

Voices static in the television.
A row of girls in gingham dresses,
the whites of their eyes
forming endless strands of pearls.

Whispering, Mary. Mary.
We always remembered.