03-05-2015, 03:23 PM
(Revision #2)
A Hot Pink Crayon
The doctor gave me
the small blue pills and white orange caps,
and promised that they’d fix my broken parts.
Teaching the only skill I’d ever need:
to drag lead along predetermined lines.
Using rails built out of fluorescent pills –
I moved through my life as a passenger. –
The doctor took from me
a spectacular
spectrum
of colors!
Electric and vivid, mingling together, pulsing and vibrating, creating an anthem or a lullaby.
A feeling so profoundly joyous and melancholy that neither raucous laughter nor silent tears suit it.
The smell of a vermilion rose and the tender sore from her thorn.
Laughing sincerely, loving childishly,
and skidding a hot pink crayon across the coloring book.
(Revision #1)
The Hot Pink Crayon
(Imagine a square is surrounding this first stanza, I could not figure out how to put it in)
The doctor gave to me.
The small blue pills and white orange caps.
And promised that they’d fix my broken parts.
What all my life they thought I’d need. –
To take the crayons, and color in the lines.
Allowance in florescent pills. –
Which I spent on papers, but not drawings.
The doctor took from me a spectacular spectrum of colors!
Electric and vivid, mingling together, pulsing and vibrating, creating an anthem or a lullaby
A feeling so profoundly joyous and melancholy that neither raucous laughter nor silent tears suit it
The smell of a vermilion rose and the tender sore from her thorn
Laughing sincerely, loving childishly
Skidding a hot pink crayon across the coloring book
A Hot Pink Crayon
The doctor gave me
the small blue pills and white orange caps,
and promised that they’d fix my broken parts.
Teaching the only skill I’d ever need:
to drag lead along predetermined lines.
Using rails built out of fluorescent pills –
I moved through my life as a passenger. –
The doctor took from me
a spectacular
spectrum
of colors!
Electric and vivid, mingling together, pulsing and vibrating, creating an anthem or a lullaby.
A feeling so profoundly joyous and melancholy that neither raucous laughter nor silent tears suit it.
The smell of a vermilion rose and the tender sore from her thorn.
Laughing sincerely, loving childishly,
and skidding a hot pink crayon across the coloring book.
(Revision #1)
The Hot Pink Crayon
(Imagine a square is surrounding this first stanza, I could not figure out how to put it in)
The doctor gave to me.
The small blue pills and white orange caps.
And promised that they’d fix my broken parts.
What all my life they thought I’d need. –
To take the crayons, and color in the lines.
Allowance in florescent pills. –
Which I spent on papers, but not drawings.
The doctor took from me a spectacular spectrum of colors!
Electric and vivid, mingling together, pulsing and vibrating, creating an anthem or a lullaby
A feeling so profoundly joyous and melancholy that neither raucous laughter nor silent tears suit it
The smell of a vermilion rose and the tender sore from her thorn
Laughing sincerely, loving childishly
Skidding a hot pink crayon across the coloring book


