Well he's definitely very angry today
He's gone and taken the world's colour away
Left me with only white, black and grey
Nothing, nada, no red, blue, yellow or green
No trace of them, gone! nowhere to be seen.
Vibrant pink, warm orange and vermillion
There nothing left now in this colourless prison
So how to describe the earth's serene face
The tree's and the flowers and wide open space
...

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Our ignorance makes colour just an illusion

We latch onto black and white for vision

Purifying our naivety, protecting our fears

Whether it be blood, sweat, or tears; no trace can be found

Recognition is the key to unearth beyond our judgemental lines.

We deny ourselves the truth, yet believe in immortality.

Observing a bag soar through the wind

Can you feel its freedom?

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The Truth Of Colour

The colour of humanity

Is not white skin

Or black skin

Not brown skin

Or yellow skin

It is the red blood

Of a beating heart

A blue shield

Is not the colour of humanity

When it takes a life

And all the greys

of muddled opinions

cannot change the truth

that a man could not breathe

because his skin colour

was...

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Darkest days

Be my brightest night

When I felt that sun glow touch

Emanate from your soft smile

Coldest wind be the

Torture of my skin

While your love seals me in

The violet of the dawning sky

The scarlet of the new sunrise

Is all I feel when you’re nearby…

Wait no…

This is but a memory…

Grab my heart and never let go

Do you remember that ...

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A fiery clown has come down

Over forests, lanes and towns.

No trumpets blown, no drums rolled,

Out of the morning mists he strolled.

Yello! Yello! It's party-time!,

He smiled. His reds and golds he sprayed around.

And God's whole house was swathed with hues untold.

All about the orange glowed, crimson leaves displayed.

The ceiling now was light with blue.

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They grow a lot of sunflowers around here and they have just started coming into flower. For the next three weeks or so we'll have the blessing of this drive-through movie.

Drive-Through Movie

The sunflowers are out, tilted up

To fluffy clouds, busy about

The royal blue sky.

The golden crowds applaud their busyness.

Golden hoards in green seas floating

Below the roya...

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You are the blood of life

but your wasteful spilling

also signals its dying away.

The danger you show

is like a bull's enraging rag

In shame and unease,

facially giving away

from ear to ear.

In courage, passion and confidence

you fly the hoisted flag.

Cupid's waving his two fingers

to show he can still let loose that arrow

while the devil pla...

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I share your sadness

in my time of need,

but bask in your heat

in the azured heaven

of canicular days.

The cold is also tied to you

and I am frozen in your hue.

Mental calm and serenity flow

from your presence,

and we can feel reassured

in the body of your essence.

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Although you are

in essence an absence

you are always deliberate,

mysterious and silent,

a shadow following,

a shade from the sun,

impression gives colour

but you remain intact

with none.

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My head is full of numbers, 
my heart is full of dread 
if I go from black to blue 
all the rhymes 
will come out new. 
Red bleeds to yellow 
and all the numbers are blue
the three comes in threes and
makes the nine incomplete and 
the moon tells the secrets 
I'm not meant to keep 
it's a message of the future 
and the past complete. 

A half yellow star sharp 
pierces my art.
The ...

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Lost in the summer haze 
still filtering out those greys,
still absent in waste, 
vacant in change 
rearranging my stain 
an inherent pain 
displaced 
the colour 
drips, 
drips, 
drips. 
My bones leak into my soul, 
the mud absorbs everything 
but the flow 
and the black fog 
still follows me home.

The desert can be bleak 
especially when the colour
constantly leaks
and the sa...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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This poem, from many years ago, is a fantasy about the liminal stage of a rite of passage. Looking back, I can see Celtic sensibility here that I was previously unaware of.

A Man I Know

A man I know stood beside me.

Looking up at paradise birds

in flight,

he reflected their colours

with steel eyes in blinding

scintillations. Carefully,

he began to speak:

“...

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One for performing mainly, but I think it stands up alone.  Part of a series.

It’s Pokémon, pimples and boils.

Being a teenager—including the sores.
It’s Spiderman, Daredevil, Rudolph and GORE
the colour of darkness when your head hits the floor.

It’s nostalgia: 
ell-ee-dees and infra-red receptors on TVs.
It’s blame and physics watching stars burn
it’s the colour o...

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