What is blue all the way through? Very few things, one of them you. Just like neighbourhood maples, Who grew oversea, good natured, Booked a flight, made into paper. What's new? I changed, too... All the way to the roots. Well, a limb moves, the ring too, The tip of which is turning blue, What cures the sickness of wealth? Very few things, among them death, Worse is truth and active dis proof. Spruce and denim, Jus, ad bellum, In the end, they feel something too. Just not what the majority do. Red right to wage fights like war, Just as much as the admiral's blue.
Calm wind after someone has died, The distance, is inner turmoil, One, it takes a lifetime to fight. That's why there is blue in the sky. The yellow and red still exists, Hidden by tricks in the mind. Like, Somewhere inside, I believe you are still mine, All I see is the thing you're like. It's like a room of three pipes, I can always stay high, But how, does one fight to stay? They pick low and live life. Despite the teal, I see the skies, What is real? Me, and all my desires, Despite the sequins, I see the light.
Simply tell me, Simply tell me, Simpleton, weed, Between clenched teeth, Tension of three, from one. Petty... Pretty periwinkle. You wash your hands of disease, You never wash your hands of me. Like Adam kissed Eve, Rustling leaves, in the city, Not at the extremes. And make believe is more for cocaine users, Not people like me, Explore as many worlds as you see, You'll find in the end the colors are three. Plus, It might seem petty, But your shade is ultramarine. And it's shady people like you, That changes people's creed, Like a stringed needle, Pulled straight through teeth, It's not the pain they fear, It's the permanence you seek.
Despite the evocation, Reduction, reprisal, Draw a circle, Around my face, eyes, nose. Triangle, circles, about my square, Protection from inside my head. I've seen males drag knuckles, on their floor, faith and culture. Their minds warped, images of war, For what did they fight? Rights, to remove the guy ropes, Scrape pavement with claws at night. Tools of change, Use of space, Use of names, True and sage. Despite the evocation, Things change. Diana wrote little of cages, Ropes below.
Blue, vampire bat, I feel like that at times, Lies about my fangs, Silver metallic, Azul and cyan, Tired, of sky high tricks. I guess that's why I am, Grown men cry, surely, But then grown men die, Weapons about their side. Head held high, my friend, Surely, we will meet again, No shame in dying to a man. Right? Azul and cyan, In sake of blue, give me white. Am I doomed, to be a beast? Who bites? Well, then why alongside them, Question the carmine reds? All I want is life, beyond that, Perhaps azul and cyan.
Blue, green, In between, To me? It's everything. But they only see through me, Shield to shield, grit teeth, Never can I achieve peace. It never appealed to me, Supposedly. But, little does, Just a few blue themes. So, to routine... For you, more meaning. Cold reading: "horses, leeches". Vernacular dances, In between: Lavender, Lapis, Cerulean. Javelins, catchers, In between: Distance, anger, Foolishness. But, that's not how they saw me. Target practice, fresh meat, Free of lines like double basses, Yet to see it's own selfish strings. Yet, upon a blue sky, I fly and sing.
Blue, pale sky. What did I miss? The sale price? The halfway line? Brick by bloody brick, They desalt mines. Did you just move away, Get killed, then live again, Just to shiver in place, Wither and die? Were you better off hunting diamonds? Forgive my writing, And erotic sins, For which upon this wit I build. Always right, Above, they fly, Always white, Always wine. Blue cranes from blueprints, Selfish, and high.
Ballet shoes, champagne flutes, Game room hue suede blue, Cocktails offstage too. Maybe I'll leave the wave pool, Establish new trade routes, Maybe not, who knows? Bottles for now though. Broadway too, Wet roots, wrestling boots. Scale teeth need scraping through. But, The veiled truth is you wade, Life is a swamp, They lie, Blue in the face, Tell you it's not that way. Broadway, grey hues, Costumed plays, Or he borrows like hooped snakes. Babe, that ain't for you, It's not for anyone with a brain.
I wish I had just spawned in, Forget what I saw before death. In the end, I'm done with fights, Aquamarine, unto the skies. Blue after, and until midnight. I have between Ral, Tal, About what is right. God of the Sun, In the end. For you, insight. Racoons, fire, Costumes, liars. In the end, Just to win like them. I just want, to feel whole again, Like I had one hundred lives, Blue painted wall, sofa bed.
Have dreams, That's how you achieve them, Not bat ears and canned heat. Billy Bragg says 'freedom is' , But whiskey is softer on ears, Randy Blythe pushes people, Carried off as he prescribes. Chlorine, yonder, sapphire dyes, In your heart you can see their eyes, You never fully extinguish a life. Murderer, she says, most immodest, Mostly chlorine water in response, Yonder, the noble's calling, It turned her to stone on the inside. To me, like sapphire and diamonds. To her, being pushed from a stage, Down past concrete, into a grave. Into the maze, blue, into the grey. Now you are mine forever.
If fights ensue, It's not of me, delights, or truth, So why stand beneath? At least in my mind the blue is me. What of peacocks in the spring? What of cheese in the crumbles? What of resolve and my shivering? Certainly, I can feel these things. It's not beneath me, Like red sees croplands, Like rubber and tarmac. Like green sees the sea: blue. Ironically, foolish for free verse. Traverse the world, but ask me, Just remove lines, write peace. Irish flute, life renews, Fights needs two, Then favour winning, Like red says to greens. I wish inside, though, blue remains. Enticing eyes, confusing wings, Flying, seems a bit childish to me, As does to peacocks in the spring.
In the courtroom: Pigs, blood, tofu, Minotaurs loose, Conflicts toward, Cold, gloom. Hospital wards, Admittance form, Logical words. What becomes more true in times of war? Ghosts, opinions that form a search for truth. Indigo, blue. Stitch up your wounds, harlot. Soon, the riddles will be about you. The courtroom, The boardroom, Cicero, choose: Which is for you? Indigo or blue, One million or two. What becomes true in times of war? Certainly not you, trials or support.
What changes with age? Cambridge, Yale, Navy. But today it rained, So blue wins the day. Head nod, hand wave. Stop, playing games, take aim, Place weights upon my grave, Nothing will change my fate. Head nod, hand wave. What changes with age? Space, royals and babies, Softness of brains, What is mundane? The third day on the front page, Shame, shame, shame, Change, change, change. Wait, wait wait, But away they sailed, So blue wins the day. Head nod, hand wave.
Olive oil, Turquoise, Handsome boys, White lattice joints. I've heard art and noise, Made economic choices. I've heard Pink Floyd, Still, within me tar boils. I need another spawn point, Another black void, Olive oil, Turquoise.
Rolling stone, Bragarts, and frauds, Divorce, over blowjobs. The most moss, gathered, Place it in a line, toss it up. Azure and cobalt, I understand what goes on, I assure you, I see it all.
Blue is to conquer, Blue is too cartoon, Complex creature, Friend stealer. Objects over people. Blue, bottled vodka. Blue, she says is awkward. She says, blue, pass the aux, Never even noticed I was gone. Never saw the blue within her. Blue boxes, blue water. Blue, recycled concepts. Blue is to conquer, Like blue is to want, Dream and wander.
Stygian Blue, Why can I see you now? Gibbous moon, Obscure behind clouds, Behind your truth, The way you see me now, I'm not like you. Suns, despite the clouds, Light the day, give them power. Unmoved? My son, Watch as I consume. Blue dyes, blue dyads, Subdue the fire, Blue dryad, bid adieu. You can speak in volumes, Ultimately, like cartoons, True rivals speak silence. Stygian Blue, I see darkness. Like the way you see me now, Like the day gives way to cancer, Blue dyes, blue dyad, give me favour. Lift my nails up from the bed, Grace my skin with pigment. Perhaps then how, you see me now, It's the colors you can live with.
Dichromatic concepts, Gods, and Goddesses, Blood, clotted, The colors bother him. Colors like blue-red, like proverbs. Worship Brahma, trust in process, Like an animal, acquire knowledge. Marvel, at an impossible profit, Money like orange, hyperbolic, Muscle farmhands, prophet. You are the colors you ponder, You aren't young much longer, You, are an actual darkness, A lack of color. Worship gospels, dungeon crawlers, To you, a monster is a monster, Nonsense you might make up, Forget what murdered daughters, Sons and brothers, like insects. Those little boxes you invented, Then force upon a general public.