Experiences, Poetry, Thought


Barely awake but the words are still ripe in my mind
Write about yellow.

Why yellow?


And after rolling to the right side, to break my sleepy cycle, with weird dream directions fresh in my mind… ironic that the yellowy solar plexus is bothering me from conscious minute one.
A weird pressing pain that takes me several hours to overcome.
A dullness in that yellow sun.
Yellow like the sun in the sky that we didn’t see today.
The Sun like the card that always comes… always on top of any reading about ‘us’.
The Sun, the message saying “yes, what you want will be done.”
The Sun like Apollo rolling over in bed, paws outstretched for a belly rub.

Write about yellow.
A mantra that is stuck in my head

Yellow like sour lemons.
Not bitter, barely tart, sour lemons.
Like banana runts he laughs and says
“they really are the best ones!”
Yellow like sunflowers, says my rainbow blonde
With pin straight hair, golden yellow like the sun.

Yellow like the chakra that kept me in bed, in a dull roar of confusion, spinning slowly and muddy, waiting for the sun to wake up and help it cycle right again.

We’re right about yellow…
It’s full of passion and bright
Just what we needed on a gloomy rainy September night.

Yellow like the flickering glow of the candle on the table
The birch trees know when it’s time to go.
They drop their warm yellow leaves and pave a yellow brick road
To Oz through the woods
God only knows.

Write about yellow
Like the silly cat’s eyes
As he stares straight at me, reading my mind
With his warm intense golden yellow glow
You know what he’s thinking.

You know.

Buttercups and dandelions
Sunflowers and squash
Yellow handle on the base of the hammer
Yellow lights and berry jam
I’m just following orders you know.
Right about yellow.

You are my friend.

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