It was an interesting workshop where I discovered different ways to look at things, different ways to find inspiration outside of yourself. One of the exercises was to try to use words in a new way defined by you but so that the reader/listener can get the meaning. I chose to use colours. Here's my poem, worked on a bit after the workshop.
The Colourful Coward
He’s like
orange in that fake way,
Like the
way orange looks bouncy and smells sickeningly-happy
But it
really isn’t.
He likes
to speak about African princesses and stars
Though
he only touches them with grey.
That
cold, unattached, slippery, non-committed side of grey,
Not the
killer side
The side
with passion.
I would
have welcomed the killer side.
Even
just a sliver to know he had it somewhere under everything the world saw of
him.
Blue is
where he likes hiding
When I
insist he cut the bullshit.
When his
orange and too-slick grey does my head in.
Blue, all
stout and round and sturdy
Rolling,
rolling— pretending as if my eyes are immune to blue.
But I
see it.
I see
him thinking he’s safe there.
I know
all about these things.
Blue is
part of it- isn’t it?
Part of
the problem.
Blue,
she lets him hide there
And she makes
everything worse.
Love it Lauri! Love how you play with colours, the poem is very dramatic, the tension, the pace, - I looked at the ending and though maybe the two last lines should stand on its own as you then talk about "she" ? Maybe you should change, "and she makes everything worse" "Blue, she lets him hide there" is so beautiful, so full of meaning and I think the next line is too direct - I love the poem Lauri. Diana
ReplyDeleteThanks for the help Diana and your nice comments. It is still a work in progress. Actually, I'm always editing everything- even published books.
ReplyDeletei like,so much sharing it right now.
ReplyDeletecool, its exciting
ReplyDelete