talking became like butterfly wings
and the colors got written down
The words were bricks
mortared into place
some walls shined with light
others were dull
he shared them with people
and tried to understand
the mystery of taste
he hid behind the walls
and examined himself
sometimes he just tried to hide
safety is color until you paint
words until you write
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
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6 comments:
Pretty chromatic words...
I do love the wroding in this poem. I likes how use brick and color to describe words.
Hey thanks Ruela! I thought you might see something here. I thought about you when I got the idea to write it.
Thanks Terry! As writers, words are our tools and conversly, as this poem tries to hint at. Thanks for the great comment, my friend.
Good write, with the last two lines the most intriguing of all!
Thanks Aurora! Glad you could get some time from your busy schedule to do visiting. Thanks for that great comment. Good luck with the new Magnapoets!
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