Let Us Speak Of Light And Colors
Let us speak of light and colors
Of ephemeral hues and strident tones
Of luminescence that commands
One's eyes to observe it
Of cobalt blues that morph into ashen grey
That in turn then steals away
Into black…
Soft and sensual as velvet
poem by David Whalen
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Unspoken language
Words drip
soft and sensual,
tones of velvet
brown like coffee,
scent of spices
on the breath
that drifts across
my cheek
and it could be
a shopping list
for all I know,
the soothing lilt
could speak to me
of laundry, taxes.
or of love
a mystery I ponder
with half-closed eyes
while I imagine romance
for a moment, passion
breathing at my ear
in structured rhythms
I don't understand
and lonely hearts
make magic
like a band aid
built of hope
because it is eternal
a language
can be learned
if need be
so I turn to meet
the gleam of smiling eyes.
poem by Midnight Clarity
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Van Gogh Ceilings
The colors of our nights
flow in different hues
blood reds on the satin sheets
deep dark blues of gentle breathing
candle light soothing;
the smells of body scents
and perfume;
August's most heated nights
the sweep of enfolding arms
the over head fan twirls
over gentle writhings
healing tremblings
as we two
spin away into
Perfection's Consumated Dream
where breathless love mates
with sensual overwhelmng
sighs seductive breathings
making it oh so clear
why
we humans were placed here
to make love and children
in the colors of our night
hot pinks
ravishing reds
and deep blues.
I look into your eyes
reflecting back to me
the nights perfection
come real
and if never again
to be seen
this time alone would be enough
to paint Van Gogh
colors and stars
on our bed room ceiling
forever
on this
Starry Starry Night
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Van Gogh Nights
The colors of our nights
flow in different hues
blood reds on the satin sheets
deep dark blues of gentle breathing
candle light soothing;
the smells of body scents
and perfume;
August's most heated nights
the sweep of enfolding arms
the over head fan twirls
over gentle writhings
healing tremblings
as we two
spin away into
Perfection's Consumated Dream
where breathless love mates
with sensual overwhelmng
sighs seductive breathings
making it oh so clear
why
we humans were placed here
to make love and children
in the colors of our night
hot pinks
ravishing reds
and deep blues.
I look into your eyes
reflecting back to me
the nights perfection
come real
and if never again
to be seen
this time alone would be enough
to paint Van Gogh
colors and stars
on our bed room ceiling
forever
on this
Starry Starry Night
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Poem That Morphed Me
Charcoal black the sky
Tickling the breeze.
I morph into
A fragile rain-drop
I morph into
A delicate sapling
and
I morph into
A dancing peacock
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Lawn Boy
Throughout the night
When theres no direct light
And a thin veil of clouds
Keeps the stars out of sight
I can smell the colors
Outside on my lawn
The moist green organic
That my feet tread upon
And the black oleander
Surrounded by blues
Im soon overwhelmed
By olfactory hues
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gullible
The Black Bird portents the gloom
As he drives home the night...
Muted tones of grey accent his shadow
Conjuring up visions of panic and fright;
As a drought of a hundred years
Where the Earth wrinkles and cracks
The Raven bodes poorly for this day
As the muted grey tones now turn to black;
Fashionably correct or understated...
The less is more philosophy-
Sophistication is borderline-ice cold-dry
As the Raven has gotten the better of me;
Lacking-oh so lacking in any warmth...
Driven to a dark chill of regret and woe
The Black Bird has shown its true colours
Ironically, telling me, what i needed to know;
poem by Theodora Onken
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~Painting Poetry~
Poetry in thought
words tumble
from my mind
onto the page and screen
like paint dripping
from sable silk brushes
creating new visions
of new realities
in the virtual space
of my Soul
painting a perfect picture
words drip down the canvas
in deep brilliant hues
of purples and reds
and vibrant blues
to soft indigo of
twinkling velvet starlight
yellow tones as warm as sunrize
and golden oranges
of fleeting sunsets
blanket the page and screen
as verse, lyric and rhyme converge
splattering from my tongue
giving form to my dreams
and shape to my fantasies
trailing across
the smooth texture
and terrain of
flesh and muscle
brushes whisper
across the canvas
dance across bodies
images of two entwined
captured boldly
in Nubian hues
of mahogany and mocha
limbs and torsos
move and connect
in a vision of words spoken
caught in the kinetic frenzy
of bodies joined
and poetry painted
across the canvas
of this night’s loving
a masterpiece to behold
for generations to come
culminating in the joining of
pen and brush
words and colors
page and canvas
poetry and paint
poem by Soulful One
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The Free Restless Spirit
there are people ahead of us
and who enjoy their own fame who like to teach us
how to make frames
that there are desired shapes of words
with their own colors and tones
and like light we ought to mix them
to their own
precise delight
when i was new i had always been clumsy
because i always want to think like them
each hour i command my hands to take their
own shapes of fingers
there are always desired sizes and colors and tones
and for years
i have lived in so much restraint that i finally discern
that i am not free
because i must live the way i ought to be like by them
too suffocating
like i am covering my head with
a helmet
so as not to harm myself
from their preconceived accidents
my voice thinned out and my hands
became moles
then too tired to take their commands
i escaped
into the mountains
and i learned the language of the birds and the trees
the songs of the wind and wilderness
my arms become rivers and my feet mountains
my hair the forest and my eyes the sun and moon
my breath is the wind
this is what freedom does
this is the fruit restlessness
this is the poem that you are reading now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love's Colors
Love's colors are not all just black and white
The color of love, different to all
The prism of color is best in fall
They can be seen even in the dark night
See what you wish, red, pink, yellow or grey
Bask in its light, it will make you quite warm
It comes in all shapes and takes any form
Choose one you love best, and ask it to stay
Love's color is soft violet to me
I've only seen it twice in my long life
It's the soft color I see around thee
Both times I made that color my dear wife
I'm alone again and I do feel free
I cut out love's colors, and stopped the strife
Petrarchan Sonnet
poem by J.B. LeBuert
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Rainbow Of Clouds
(09/27/11)
Oh! How I love to look at the sky
So many colors that attract the eye.
Blues, grey s , reds, and oranges too
Create such a perfect view.
Especially at dusk or dawn
When new colors are born.
Or when the white clouds look like
Snow covered mountain tops
And the rippling waves that it creates
Puts you at a restful state.
What about the patches of blue
In between the oranges and grey s
And your heart wishing that they would stay.
The skies can create such a therapeutic state
On which so many of us can relate.
Putting our minds and bodies at such ease
Like the feel of a soft gentle breeze.
It also has its black clouds
Covering its face like a shroud.
These dark clouds tend to hide the day
And you never know what will come your way.
But Even the darkest of clouds can bring joy.
The rains that the dark clouds bring
Gives life to everything.
poem by Louis Rams
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Portrait
PORTRAIT
A lurid looking impasto indeed
With grisly colors dappled all over
Like puddles of cuddled blood
Daubs of violent reds! Gloomy black patches!
Erotic blues and skinflint browns!
Resigned auspicious yellows,
Ashen virtuous whites and
Paled prosperous greens
He is often slipping his palette
Dripping the hues and tripping the easel
His lines running in zigzag jumble
Drawing He, with his quivering quill
The frazzled veteran Artist of unknown origin
“Your mighty hand must be aging! Oh my Master!
Muster your energies to depict on Earth
Your best ever portrait to reinvigorate
Your original beautiful oeuvre in whole for ever”
Sathya…….
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Colors Of Your Heart
Colors of your heart
Like the colors on a pinwheel
Spinning around, turning away
Colors of your eyes
Tell me youre changing
Tell me your leaving
And that its too late to try
Colors of your heart
Like the places youre going
Theres no way of knowing
What did I do so wrong
Diamonds and sand
Slide through your hands
Like youve done through mine
Did I look away
Or did I never say
How I needed you
Colors of your eyes
Like the blues in a bottle
Taking you down
Let them wash you away
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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CoLoRS
Red, green, and blue
tangerine, orange, and lavander
some colors you see,
around where you are free
black and grey,
you say?
dark it symbolize;
reach the light
to see the prize,
a world full of colors
you may think what a sight!
Painting This Love
You speak to me with pastel tones
My heart and head begin to groan
Again you’ve got me under your spell
It really makes me quite unwell
I throw my purple words at you
Although there are only a few
I have to find a way
To say what i must say
Purple tones blend with black
Fade to pink I take it back
I love you yes that’s true
You love me yes you do
Why spread the pastels over me
Leave them in our history
The future of us is grey and bleak
This love we have is oh so weak
Dirty tones wash over it all
Step back now let the love fall
Smashing into a thousand bits
All of the colours gush out in fits
Puddle of love on floor
I’ve seen this site all before
Start again with your pastel tones
Start it all again my heart moans.
poem by Charlotte Murray
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Nineteen Nine
There's a light out there in the nearer east
In the dawn of Nineteen Nine;
There’s the old ghost light in the salty yeast
Where the black rocks meet the brine.
Here’s the same old strife and toil in vain—
Here’s the same old hope and doubt—
Here’s the same old useless care and pain—
And the sea is my way out—
My dear—
The sea is my way out.
’Tis a grey and a sad old sea for me—
With a growing grey head too.
Oh, the heads were brown and the eyes were bright
When the sea was white and blue.
It was round the world and home again,
We could turn and turn about,
And the sea means exile now in vain,
But the sea is my way out—
My dear—
The sea is my way out.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Light
Light that can be kind. Light that can smell sweet. Light that can be soft.
Light that can be porcelain. Light that can be silent. Light that can speak.
Light that can hold many colors. Light that can be romantic. Light that can be harsh.
Light that can be cold. Light that can be warm. Light that can be dry.
Light that can be loud. Light that can be love. Light that can be faith.
Light that can be full of strength. Light that can be pure. Light that can be dark.
Light that can be fragile. Light that can be crazy. Light that can be weird.
Light that can be old. Light that can be new. Light that can be inbetween.
Light that can be swift. Light that can be sharp. Light that can wonder.
Light that can be insane. Light that can be smooth. Light that can dream.
Light that can be free. Light that can be everlasting. Light that can be wild.
Light that is the lord. Light that is Jesus. Light that is holy.
Light that is the trinity. Light that can belong. Light that can be fast.
Light that can sing. Light that is the holy ghost. Light that is the Bible.
Light that can be a mith. Light that can be still. Light that can be different.
Light that can be hole. Light that can be true. Light that can be whimsical.
Light that can be bright. Light that can be formed. Light that is blessed.
Light that can be full of presence. Light that can tell a story. Light that can be intelligent.
Light that is like no other!
poem by Shania K. Younce
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The Grey Areas: Revised
they think and teach you
that black is black and white is white
that either you are moral or immoral
that either you leave or stay
that either you die or live
that there are only choices of
either/or
they tell you do not do this
do not do that
do only this and that
they prohibit you and tell you
it is for your own good
as though they are gods
and you are the dogs
an old man with bright eyes
asks me to go near him
and he says: try the middle of things
it is not just black or white but
there are shades and shades of choices
in between
in there everything is allowed.
the grey areas. the exceptions. the exemptions.
try them. they are all exciting. like the colors of the rainbow
like the patches of red, and orange and blue and pink
you see, who is telling you that there are no other colors
than black and white?
i am neither good nor bad.
In truth, i am just myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Meditation. for Sonny Rainshine
The shifting blues of soft twilight, precursor to the fall of night.
From palest blue to indigo the colours waver come and go
.No earthly artist though they try can possibly identify
the boundaries between the hues which swirl and blend just as they choose.
Before they’re overtaken by darkness of night that rules the sky
Until the Moons serenity appears on high for all to see.
Here in the quiet countryside I meditate each eventide
Upon the qualities of light which alter with the fall of night.
Though it grows dark I still can see my eyes can work efficiently adjusting to the changing light though colours fade to black and white. An interlude a passing phase which flees before the silver rays
the newly risen moon supplies. Colours return delight our eyes
Though there’s a subtle difference the colours now are less intense
than those seen by the light of day. As if they’re altered in some way
Although I’m forced to recognise this may be due to tired eyes
I’m half convinced against my will that moonlight can and does instil
some new dimension to how we see.Adding some new delicacy
to our perception of the light. Perhaps we achieve clearer sight.
28-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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