PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Washes of hues, confuse

the binge of sound.

Noises in the head, scrape

against the colors,

in the brain.

The din maddening, 

Deafening the need,

to think. 

Quiet little intrusive thought,

Quiet little aches of loss,

Rise undulating in her mind,

Dancing, tauntingly 'til,

She couldn't take it anymore. 

Constant affection, disaffection 

In truth,

Blurred the hues

that scraped the mind

That binged the brain

in metronomes of sound 

all around.

All resound 

To drive her crazy. 

He did that. 

He made her crazy.

He made her crazy,

So that one night she just flew.

It wasn’t a long flight,

Just a gesture to the wind

As she was gone. 

Metronome of maestros

pounding in her brain,

Not-right-not-right.

(Take-flight-take-flight.)

The hues can’t erase

Swirling water-tones

of pigment 

She see inside her eyes.

The pattern on his jacket,

Buried tear stained face,

Sepia yellows, grayed blues,

Shadows begging for a palette,

knife.

Sleep eludes, scrapes

the brain

washes tints

to form

the gone-ness of time

On the tempered paper

Of her mind. 

Storm Laden Blue

Tracy took the boat out

Skimming a turbulent sea,

Seeking out a nautical high

Within the Cerulean hue.

Phthalo strewed green foam

Bubbled on the waves

Tracy spent the night out

Under an oily sky.

Cosmic tunes broke way

to the Caladium sun,

Tracy took the boat in

Embossed in a quieted sea.

~djtjohnson 2022