Meaning
maybe you are a small brush
a layer of color that not even green in painting
feels unworthy and meaningless
but when you look from far
every streak makes a tree lives
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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Being Green
(joe raposo)
One day, as I was walking through my garden, I saw a little frog lying on the ground. and I thought he was sick. so I picked him up and he wasnt sick at all. he was very sad, and he was crying.
I said: whats a matter with you, little frog? and he looked up at me with a lump in his throat, and he said: wribbit!
It aint easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think, I think it would be nicer being red
Or yellow or gold
You see, it aint easy being green
It seems to blend in with so many other ordinary things
And then, sometimes, sometimes people pass over you
Because youre not standing out like sparkles on the water
Or like the stars in the sky
But did you know that green is the color of spring
And green can be big like an ocean
And important like a mountain
And cool and friendly-like
Or tall and skinny like a tree
And me
But when green is all there is to be
It kind of makes you wonder why
Why wonder, wonder why?
Hey, Im green and I think itll do fine
cause green is just what I wanna be
cause green is beautiful, baby
Right on green
And anyway, moneys green
Wribbit
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting The Walls
painting the walls,
rolling over handprints,
cobwebs, and smoke stains....
over splashes of color,
over peels of time.
painting over the sounds
of voices whispering, laughing....
painting over tears hidden
from the world, from each other.
painting over running, and working,
working all day and half the night.
painting over children, and dreams,
folded like old clothes, and put away.
painting over notes from God,
that were often barely noticed...
painting over the nail that held
up the clock, hands moving slowly,
turning the seasons of living....
painting over the final words,
the last breath held in the hands,
of lives written in the grain....
the testimony of each feeling....
painting the walls,
and brushing the corners,
as if we never lived!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Nature's Favorite Color
The green foliage is an attractive sight
On the vast landscape on a clear summer day,
As the white daisies gradually unfold along the side
Of a winding roadway that is somber and gray.
It is a picturesque view that one will readily admit,
Blesses the color of green to the greatest height,
And yet it is a scene that enlightens one's mind
With euphoria and great pleasure and delight.
It is not the beauty of the unfolding rose,
Nor the mellow sunflowers near the old mill,
But the color green - Nature's matchless green
On the highlands that gives one a welcomed thrill.
It is beholding of the color of green,
On the growth of leaves on a swaying tree,
And on the landscape far and wide indeed,
As green is Nature's favorite color for all to see.
.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi

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Bein Green
Its not easy bein green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer bein red or yellow or gold
Or something much more colorful like that
Its not easy bein green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over
cause youre not standing out like flashy sparkles
On the water or stars in the sky
But green is the color of spring
And green can be cool and friendly like
And green can be big like an ocean
Or important like a mountain or tall like a tree
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why
But why wonder, why wonder?
I am green and itll do fine, its beautiful
And I think its what I want to be
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canvas
Before my eyes brilliant colour, perfection
Dancing gracefully in every direction,
The world of trees, the art of nature
Are simple reasons for a painter.
The power mother nature can release
Could make a painting, a masterpiece
A gallery of natures finest hues,
Enough to stir the most reluctant muse.
Should mother nature tutor me in art
My tree would show a living beating heart,
And should I save one single living tree
My canvas would inspire the world to see.
Red, orange, yellow, green and brown
Colours of beauty my brush would put down
Bright and vibrant Maple Red and Golden Oak
Living, breathing felt with every brush stroke..
©2011
poem by Hazel Connelly

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What is the color of love?
What is the color of love?
I'll paint it with RED.
Do you ask me why? Because.....
Red roses are the symbol of love,
Red sunrises are the symbol of life.
What is the color of love?
I think I'll paint it with ORANGE.
I'll give it to you by the segments.
It looks so naive but....
You have to believe.
What is the color of love?
And now I'll paint it with YELLOW.
It's the sunshine of the bright day.
It's the color of flowers in spring.
What is the color of love?
I'll better paint it with GREEN.
'Green grass of home...',
Green leaves, green piece...
What is the color of love?
I think I'll paint it with BLUE.
It's the color of the sky,
It's the color of freedom,
It's the color of seas and oceans
It's the color of the devotions.
What is the color of love?
It is sometimes dark blue
When the ocean is angry
When someone's love is not true.
What is the color of love?
May be it is VIOLETTE?
Don't try to guess
As I'd like here to confess:
It's a RAINBOW!
Larisa R(Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

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Ugly Paint
crack
in the brush,
slice the line and tamper
the bold corner,
waste of time, comes
no regret of it fingers tips,
swollen thumb
with tailing nails of broken pieces
of color
folded
join together
and faded brightness of
Red and Green,
scattered Indigo pamper
the shape and form,
ugly as the skin touches the smooth
face of beautiful picture
of tomorrow's gone,
the guided stream of lines, blacken by its
careless hands of
touch
Yes!
a lasting way of just
an ugly paint,
pattern on me, cover and let the rain
of adoration of search for
an easily hurt get
of deception of hope; something
smarter than
a little boy and girl stand and push
beyond the paint of gain and grain of
whole
pieces of sweat,
pattern makes every paint seems ugly,
yet! it makes sense in me;
sphere revealing
painting you have been long leads
my home,
of what is today and the future
of my day paint goes on,
as the color
printed with its style and let
every passers-bye
says a sweet
good bye …..
poem by Antonio Liao

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What Color? (Hope)
what color
was the dust
from which the stars
were made?
what color is the hunger
written on the child's face?
what color is justice,
forgiveness, desire, truth?
what color is the wind....
the rain, gravity,
and knowledge?
what color is equality?
what color is freedom?
what color is eternity?
what color is redemption?
what color is God?
what color were the nails
that hung Jesus on the cross?
what color was enlightenment
falling on the Buddha as he sat
'neath that tree?
what color is prejudice, hatred,
fear, greed, apathy.....
what color your skin?
nay, what color is your blood?
and what color are the eyes
of humanity staring through the darkness?
and what color is hope?
poem by Eric Cockrell

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A wold made of pink
It's just a new obsession
A color which makes me go insane
Pink is not any kind of fiction
Pink always helps me gain
Faith, confidence and everything I need
Trust, joy and a bit of laughter
This color helps me succeed
Pink is the color of my eyes
Only when I look at you
Pink makes me an angel in disguise
It's the color which brings joy to me and my crew
Pink is a color so mighty, so great
Pink is the color my face
Turns when I'm late
Pink is the color which nothing can replace
It's the color which I can't stop thinking of
Neither day nor night
Pink symbolizes my love
Pink is the color of the light
Which shines in my heart for you
It's the color of a wonderland
This color shouldn't be withdrew
It's the color of my imaginary sand
Pink is the color my cat wants to be
Pink is the color of the sun which shines
Pink is the color the world can see
Pink is the color which gives me signs
poem by Mia Peterson

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When A Person Does Not Know What To Do With Himself
WHEN A PERSON DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIMSELF
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Choose Your Color
I will paint the walls blue
Blue is calm, blue is power
Blue is the color of tranquility
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the ceiling green
Green is healthy, green is peace
Green makes time move faster
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the floor red
Red is fire, red is danger
Red is the symbol of passion
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the sky purple
Purple is sad, purple is gloomy
Purple is the color of romance
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the tree black
Black is fear, black is death
Black is the symbol of grief
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the street yellow
Yellow is happy, yellow is fresh
Yellow is the color of sunshine
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the fence orange
orange is wisdom, orange is wealth
Orange is the color of success
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint everything white
White is good, white is pure
White is the color of faith
Have you seen my colors yet?
(August 16th,2006)
poem by Christopher G. Turner

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Color
Performed by the steeles
Composed by prince
Color me black if u color me just like u
Color me angry if u color me less than I do
(whoa, whats your color? )
Yeah, whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
Color me happy if u teach me what I need 2 know
Color me gone if u dont, if u dont cuz every child needs 2 grow
This I know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color, yeah?
I wanna know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color?
Listen (listen)
Love is my color when Im shown love in return
But when I am not, its a bet u can guess what I have learned
Whats my color?
Hey
Color me green (color me green) if I cannot have what uve got
Color me blue (blue) until I do cuz the fire will shonuff be hot
Yes it will
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Oh, make me a promise (make me a promise)
Oh, make me a promise (that whatever u color me) that whatever u color me
U will at least color me then I can color u 2
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey
Color
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Whats your color?
Make it love
Whats your color?
Mine is love
(whoa, whats your color? ) yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thursday Afternoon
Her life is a show
One act follows the other everywhere she goes
She takes the leading role
She never plays herself
Save for the time shes on the stage
Color her black or white
Now either one reflects the teardrops
One extreme for the other
Nothing in between
Color her white for the princess she could be
Color her black for the troubled child she plays so well
Well shes dancing through hell on a dream
And blue is soul of the one
Reaching for the man that she hasnt got yet
And holding on to those hearts for lost causes
She could be so bright
But shes reaching for us all
Color her blue for the loneliness she feels
Shes hiding her heart in the sky
And this is a thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Color me grey
Im a little bit of everything today
And Im not sure just where Im going
Color me grey
Wishing I was something more of distinction
Color us all cause were just stars
Wishing our lives away
Into the distance
And out of existence
Color her black or white
Color her blue
Or color me grey
Color us all - were stars
Wishing our lives away
Now were stars
song performed by by Indigo Girls

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feels So Good
Feels good
Im stranded on a spaceship hideaway
And something makes me think Im here to stay
Im so happy where I am
Feels good
Ive journeyed to the other atmospheres
And every breath I take just makes it clear
Im holding heaven in my hands
Its automatic baby and it feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
These extra-sensory sensations
Are causing me some complications
Electrostatic information
Feels good
Im playing with a pleasure trafficker
Arriving soon intergalactica
Im holding heaven in my hands
Its automatic baby and it feels good
Feels good
Feels good
Feels good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
Feels so good
Feels so good
Feels so good
Feels good
Feels so good
Feels so good
Feels so good
Feels good
Im stranded on a spaceship hideaway
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
Feels good
And it feels so good
song performed by by Jamiroquai

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night workers..
Night is frozen and full of dust,
Nocturnal creatures are out on lust,
Trainee painters colored the earth,
Using the shades of grey at the brush,
A few take the paint in the bucket,
Splatter the darker grey on the forest,
They think to color the rivers of blue,
Adding the grey to the blue, make it dark,
How hard they paint the civilization black,
The lights of men make it bright,
Bored of painting on the roads,
back alleys are pained with what they have,
Forgotten the painting of the sea,
They throw their balance paint and brush into it,
Before they finish the job and get paid,
The cleaner of the earth arrives from the Vacuum,
Sucked in all the dust from the horizon,
The perfectly visible earth emerges,
After the thawing of its all nightly desires.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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Emerald Green
Emerald green is the colour of life and of the springtime,
Conveying harmony, joie de vivre and most important, love
Emerald green retains its lively vigour all the time
In all nuances, like those wonderful green eyes that rove.
Sunlight dances across the Gulf of Mexico, a lovely place
With emerald green waters and very hot white sand.
Moreover, we see this green in a forest, a darker space,
Or we can see it in the green grass in the Spring land,
A metallic green body with small yellow sweet stripes
And emerald eyes has the Hine’s emerald dragonfly.
Nymphs hatch in marshes high in sedge meadows,
When sheds its skin and emerges an adult to fly.
A mineral emerald green contains the Romanesque murals.
The old Masters used verdigris for them and copper green
To make a deep brown, mixed it with sulfur-containing colors,
Such as cadmium yellow, vermilion or blue-ultramarine.
The green we see in December represents the evergreen tree,
A symbol of life continuing even in that dark day.
We look to the pins and the rhododendrons and we agree
That greenery will return to the world again someday.
The green chosen for the color scheme of Christmas night
Is emerald green, that deep, pure, clear green inside
That seems to shine with light, in the season of white
When there isn't much natural green available outside.
A very ambitious plant is hymenaea courbaril, the tree named Amber
It has the most attractive emerald-green heart shaped leaves.
Like Orchid Tree, so pleasing to the eye with their alluring shimmer.
Lycopersicon esculentum has emerald green tomatoes with dark green stripes.
With this emerald green Van Gogh wanted to paint plastic correctly
Maybe his eyes saw a special nuance, after cutting his ear
He worked alla prima, on to the canvas painting directly
From his imagination and from reality, making the image believable.
poem by Marieta Maglas

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Under The Lulu Tree (A nonsense poem.)
Sitting under the lulu tree
nothing makes sense at all.
The world feels as if it’s upside down
and any minute you are going to fall off.
I know this all sounds crazy,
but sitting under the lulu tree
is just how you are going to feel.
You will think the moon is green
and filled with cheddar cheese
and if you look out the window, twice
three blind mice will pass
carrying a slice on their knees.
No, I have not been having a tipple
from the good old mountain dew;
I’ve just been sitting under the lulu tree.
Now you have read this nonsense
please come and join me
and we’ll all sit together
under the lulu tree.
18 September 2008
poem by David Harris

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When A Person Does Not Know What
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
WHAT DO I KNOW? \AND WHO AM I?
What do I know?
And who am I?
The real questions
I cannot answer
They are beyond me.
And I don't think
I have anything to give
Even in beginning to answer them.
Just another human being
Who has come this way
And soon will be gone
Without ever having answered
The real questions.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Peeling Life Layer By Layer
like onions
(let me say this again
on an overused cliche)
we peel our lives
layer by layer and we shed
tears
i have done it
and (let me say this once again)
i arrive at the core and
whew! (did you notice it?)
there is nothing worth seeing
there.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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N4
my theory lives thru
as you have said it: these are all lies
lies and more lies
and you know them all to be lies,
but as you said it,
you begin to understand the truth
beneath these lies
a layer of grass
another layer of flowers
another layer of clouds
beneath is the niche
burying the nuggets of
my own wisdom, how i live my life
and justify it later
before God, shall all lies be
truths
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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