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. 

Thoughts rise undulating in her mind,

dancing tauntingly 'til

she can't take it anymore. 

They did that. 

They made her crazy.

They made her crazy

so that one night she just flew,

it wasn’t a long flight,

just a gesture to the wind

and she was gone. 

Metronome of maestros

pound in her brain,

not-right-not-right

(take-flight-take-flight)

the hues can’t erase

the swirling water-tones

of pigment 

she see inside her eyes,

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. 

Only

Only you. 

Only you

Know, 

I need kisses in threes. 

When you left me lonely

When you left me alone

One 

Was all you gave me

One 

And only

One.

Sitting on My Stoop

Sitting on my stoop,

I looked up to see, what

I thought would be,

A sea, scraping on a beach. 
Instead, I saw the street

Running past my door. 

The drier leaves of winter 

Scraping hard upon concrete, 

Rustling in mistaken cadence, 

Like an ocean against a shore.