Yellow-green-blues
ring true, wild, and through
my windows and ceilings and floors
Veins glitter and clamor for sticky, sweet splatters
of peachy sweet jam on walls made of laughter
Orange, you glad? Roller skates take you faster
Color inside the lines to avoid all disaster?
Violently violet, voraciously vivid
Often times spinning with passion and kisses
that dizzy and dazzle
And snap, pop, and crackle
Fire red fire works...
Mixed with cold plaster?
Indigo lines to avoid all disaster?
Pink purple people eat music and drink love
that dribbles and drops onto stairs to kaleidoscope
hallways with doors to dream bigger and bolder and brighter
Don’t laugh at me
Teetering now on the brink of catastrophe
Lines, I may follow but
color can master me
Free
About the Creator
V. Florrié
Half angel, half flower.
Writing things down.
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Mango People Grow Sunshine
Mangoes as far back as I can remember / lush succulent stringy / delectably decadent / sweet / dripping with fresh nectar flavor / alien aliveness / my mother’s favorite fruit / bizarrely beloved / ate so many, my veins flow with their juice / the third parental figure / yellow blood / sugary sunshine sustenance / bones made from mango trees / hair made of leaves from Jamaica / We climb slippery waterfalls and make friends with hummingbirds / We fall and scrape skin often / Bruised fruits / But Mangoes are from God / Every man’s gold / Honey colored riches / like every side of a mango / Inside and outside of a mango / So we make mango juice when it rains / Because we are indeed part mango / Mango humanoids / An indisputable fact / our eyes gleam like brilliant yellow stars in the dark / Liquid gold / It rains mango juice in our house / Mangos on a hot tin roof / Oozing, stickily out the front door / into the cracks of the concrete city sidewalk / Into neighbors' houses / into their glasses / shimmering life forces
By V. Florrié 5 years ago in Poets
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith5 days ago in Humor
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