deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Colored Screen

A wall of bricks covered in light and shadow;
A woman on her laptop, also enveloped
In sunlight hitting her shoulders,
Not as pretty as the younger, emptier girls
Who swarmed in and stand around me making one noise
With four mouths, in identical skinny jeans,
But she looks alive,
eyes portals to depths, preoccupied.

Inside me this brick wall, the people, this scene
rip open like wallpaper; behind
Is a world without form –
the reality under my body –
projecting onto the outside, easily finally.
Between the two sides lies this thin, detailed screen,
a paper lantern encasing a too-bright light.

I lost my life,
Don’t remember why
I sit here studying (feels like I go to no end),
Like the girl on her laptop, the man on his,
The serious lady in glasses reading,
Each speeding separately like atoms, randomly,
Colliding, parting, and going along.
(Except for the noble gases
Who are too complete to need anyone,
And form no reactions, sit bored in the world
For reasons unknown to me).

This day my body took to breathe and recuperate,
To move slow, like the turtle, in concerto
With no need to rush,
Dancing in step, speaking in
Body language, what all understand
Unquestioned when the world inside
Is freely projected and reflected and seen through the colored screen.

04/30/2011
Written by PhantomPhace
Published
Author's Note
at last, not love
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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