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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Thoughts en Prismed

T'was a rainbow renaissance
This flexing of modern cuneiform puissance
Dubbed by most as a nuisance 
Attacked in almost autoimmune response

Red room walls that tower then fall 
From lack of foundation and taste 
Revealing a wooden lattice 
Full of old mouse bones and boundless hope

Orange and trim 
Sporting ruffled ridges and sworls 
This couch is clearly from 1979 
Stuffed with old goose down and memories 
Declaring in citrus zest to be far out of time
Great yellow trees sailing the high seas 
Escaped down the river
Cut from an early spring jam in the north 
To disappear beneath the waves in the end

Great greens grow into shades of brown 
Buried in white for interminable night 
Till melted back awake 
They give their chloroplasts a shake

Choppy blue seas churn for you and me 
Crosswind churned within this earthen urn 
When at last we ride the foamy froth coating the tops

Violet in violence did the Purple Cape dance 
Defeating evil under flaking metal girders 
That form the borders of vibrant vigilante patrols

Individually feeling unconnected and unique
After being split in a precisely ground prism
But backtrack the light's path to the other side
And it's all plain white noise begging for the divide