Red flowers grow outside
This room where I study poetry
I want to walk barefoot
In that plot of red
And feel red between my toes
I want to drink everything that
Looks so red on the big red machine
With the big red bottle
Red liquid soothing my insides
Refresh-Recycle-Repeat
I am sucked inside
The big scary black hole
Where my red drink is promised to arrive
Deep inside the big red machine
And then he appeared
Covered in shades of red
As bright as Coca-Cola on the top
Deep maroon on his back
Would he rescue me
As I cry in neon to him
“I-am-not-Coca-Cola-Coca-Cola”
No he passes
Chooses instead the red food
Grapes and Twizzlers
Now I must wait
To be pulled out
Of this
Redish hell
Swirling like a virus
Around my trapped
Talking head
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Eljekar
Darla Carmichael
Poor Woman
Elizabeth Priddy
Nusser
Tinkerbelle Nitely
Salon.com
Comments
Of course that is what I keep telling myself..:)
HUGGGGGGGGGG
I do a picture – then I destroy it
In the end though nothing is lost
The RED I took away from one place.....turns up somewhere else.
~R~
LOVED!
Rated.
GO ALL REDS!
~If you wear red tonight
Remember what I said tonight
For red is the color that my baby wore
And what is more, it's true
Yes it is ... ~
The echo is drifting into the realm called longing.
Love endures,helps ease the pain.
Haunting shadows.
Light will change the world.
no, more than tone...uh, song....
genre of song...
oh, something!!
devilishly absurd, full of joy & longing , and...also...full of red!
and then black. red and black.
Red, the color of passion & life & warm blood,
and
black, the color of ...well, not a color at all!...absence of color...
of life...like machinery.
Poor dear, was it your love of red that brought you to this
predicament?
up inside a red machine?
You can never know how much I appreciate each and every one of you.
Indeed, I believe it is my love of Red that is the cause of most of my predicaments.
This is an encouraging development indeed.
This poem is different than the rest. But I like it.
♥R