The Colours You Want

At the bar, invitations

I’ll take you up.

Thoughts grow too big to mind

And you force a call to you.

You knew me, taunt me,

Wet click of tongue down the wire

And the crackling static, “I’m cruel but I’m soft

“I’ll become colours you want,

“Stripes, dots, blushes.

“Just for tonight.”

There’s no thin wall between us.

This is dangerous talk.


5 responses to “The Colours You Want

  1. Wow, Ken, this is amazing! I love this poem. Good job for writing so much prose. Pretty soon I’m going to start hating you for being so good at it.

  2. Thanks Ash. I’m not happy with the beginning, but I think poetry’s good for playing with words when I’m stuck on other things. So no worries that I’ll get very good at it, as I’m just using it as a mental exercise right now, not putting much heart and soul in it like you do with yours.

  3. Ahem… I meant verse, not prose. By the way, that could easily be taken as an insult! You’re not putting much into it, and you’re still great… whereas I….

    • Haha, I *knew* you’d take it that way, so I reworded it, and *still*…!

      You write poetic rings around me. You take the time, and know your stuff, and come out with things that just blow me away.

      That up there was a couple of things that had been dancing around my head for a week that took me a stupid-long time to write out and still didn’t come out right.

      I’ve been journalling for two day; I have to get back to the short story, sketch it out, because it’s wandering.

      • Well, please: keep writing poetry. I love reading it. Feel free to also publish your journal entries. I’d like to read those too.


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