melancholy monotones

mark the edges of my vision

blending blacks and whites

seeing

b l a n k

anddark

(feeling blank and dark).

but with her

i have kaleidoscope eyes

peering at the world that was once disguised

seeing beautiful chaos

colliding colours

and feeling

hope blossom like fireworks

(**just underneath the surface**).

Words squeeze through

a diamond cut sky

cradle you in my palm

whirling, swirling, curling, twirling

Words fly on by

on wings of birds ,

unfolding you in my dreams

whirling, swirling, curling, twirling

Burgundy broiling words bleeding

awakening every morning to sketch

the clouds with cotton puffs

lifting the sky nigh so high in sighs

whirling, swirling, curling, twirling

Kaleidoscope of colors painted

in your mind on ribbons of silk

catching the silver drizzles of rain

the color of words dyed passion red

the tint of crimson bleeding on face

whirling, swirling, curling, twirling

Untangling nooses around trapped neck

whispered phrases in ancient chants

words have rhythmic minds of their own

awakening deep, resounding thoughts

vapors of cleansing spray – pure freedom

pearls of words open up the gift of soul

whirling, swirling, curling, twirling

The pink blended with blue,

A hue

That swirled in my eyes

And touched my scars

And brought my tears to an end.

The purple swam in orange,

Feeding my fire,

Freeing my soul

Into the boundless horizon,

Escaping the shapes and shadows.

The yellow embraced red,

Sent word

To my heart, of a new day,

Another shot at life,

Another series of breaths.

The green kissed brown.

Hope fluttered

In the depths of my bosom

As life flowed through me,

Meandering and gushing in my mind.

And all the colours

Cascaded

Into a little glass prism.

And a white fairy

Opened her wings..

The world is your canvas,

Go.

Set your dreams free.

the morphing patterns

beads tumbling through a glass tube

foretell my future

<filler words because haikus are meant to torture you because they almost never fill the word limit>

Words change meanings so often

Dictionaries are all but obsolete

The day they’re printed.

Our intentions are reduced

To shards of colored plastic,

Reflecting, refracting,

Altering the light.

But ultimately awaiting

The next grubby-fingered wise-aleck

Who delights in shifting views

To chaotically create

The next newly abstract masterpiece.

“Hi Lil girl”

Said the Man with the

big Green and Purple Hat

“do you want to see magic?”

“OH YES

yes I do, where do I look”

asked the lil girl

“Right here in my bag.”

said the magic man

First

He pulled out

a fish with a bell for hook

and said no not that

then he pulled out a big blue book with

giant snook

and said

oops you should not have

seen that and quickly

put it back.

He reaches in again

and says,

“I know it’s in here, I just had it

2 hours ago.

Don’t give up

Magic is here somewhere.”

Then He shakes his bag

fiercely

it sounded like a

kitchen sink

was in it.

There was clinking and clanking

she never knew a bag

sounded like that

He reached in another time

this time his whole arm

went in...

He says “I KNOW it’s here”

and He looks in again

and then he steps in

and disappears.

The lil girl is in shock

is that the magic?

Is he stuck?

She walks over to the bag

and looks in

Just then out comes the man with

the Green and Purple hat

and a bumbleberry Cat named Snoodle

who had noodles for whiskers

and a carrot for the tail.

He also had a tube in the

other hand shouting

“I found it”

“What is it,”

the lil girl asked

“it’s a kaleidoscope of course”

“Are you ready to see Magic?”

The lil girls says

“I already have.”

“but not this”

and

He hands her the

kaleidoscope and tells

her to look through it

spin the tube watch

the colors dance.

she does and

SMILES.

The REAL Magic is in the lil girl’s SMILE!

Athena

09/10/2020

R ed was the color of her hair, my daughter

E lizabeth, named for my friend and

D reamed of, something to piece together later

B lue was the color of his lack of compromise

L ost in his own wasteland,

U nable to see past other women, prideful of his

E xceptional gift, except in emotion

P urple is the color

U sed when a wound becomes a bruise

R andomly placed on the body

P assionately

L eaving a kiss of what was, could have been

E ven when we knew it was done

The girl in the mirror

Is not the one I used to see.

The girl in the mirror,

Is she really me?

She doesn’t look happy.

What happened to my smile?

She doesn’t look happy.

It’s been like this for a while.

The girl in the mirror,

She tries to act so tough.

The girl in the mirror,

I know it is a bluff.

I want her to leave.

Before I attack.

I want her to leave.

I need the old me back.

The girl in the mirror

Is not the one I used to see.

The girl in the mirror,

Is she really me?

All things kaleidoscopic

What an awful eyeful! Topic:

Meld an awe-inspiring dream

with ‘A Garden’ for the Theme.

Here are plants I like to find

as I search rooms in my mind.

Snapdragon, Rooster Comb, Daylily,

Pansy, Nasturtium, Peony,

Blackeyed Susie and Sunflower,

Morning glory will embower.

Violet and Chrysanthemum,

Mayapple and Trillium.

Begonia and Hollyhock;

Bluebells line my garden walk.

Daffodil, dank Marigold,

Zinnia and shrubby Rose.

Iris, funny Touch-Me-Nots,

Spider Lily, Mums in pots.

Tulip, Phlox, and Clover red

round out beds within my head.

All these sights were planted there

by ‘my gardeners’, kept with care.

I was wee e’er I espied

Blooming, colored plants’ high tide.