"Collage..." Poem

A bowl of potato chips...golden and soooooooo crisp. Melt in youe heart flavor... fingertip licking-good.

How do you see around you?  No, it ISN'T rhetorical - HOW do you see around you?  Say the food court in a mall... or the market (fleas-be-damned) - at lunchtime... "People, people everywhere and not a thought to think!"  Guys struttin their man-child to the legend-inside beat... women-children learning how to BE what they think - for now that they already are... til the next eye-blink and twitter-tweet.   Moms and aunts, kissing-friends holding that lil-bit-more than hands, and grans peeking the windows and dreaming... dads (lost in the shock of it all) and just wandering til the 'other' gets done - wherever-the-hell-they-are... chuckling here.  And that is such such a lil scene - slice of heaven... a:

"Collage..."

... of me's...

I ALWAYS picture you -
 in the midst of color
- somehow - a bit of sun,
a deep blue framing you...
rainbows in your eyes.

We set lil tasks for ourseves
to while away living...
sort of takes the edge off
and then - it really doesn't take any edges off
somehow.

What is the color of a thought?

So many collages
just within
and behind - my eyes

thoughts and thoughts and
thoughts
jumbled and mixed
ordered and - not
edge-to-edge-and-overlapping
eternities overlapping
beginnings overlapping endings
over - lapping - middles - lapping
each wave of time ~
flowing in and away
swirling
swirling...

What color is this thought?
just this one - not that one or
that one just over there
or is it this one here
or there or anywhere...

I wish I saw you more...

Strange -
how there aren't even graves
to go to
to just sit and pause
and recollect
things that don't mean a damn.

Deep, deep thoughts...
I know they are right there - just right there
and the blank white just stares and stares..

People just don't understand
that even when they are out in the rain
and looking up
the tear tracks show...

yes, they do.

White noise... is that what this is...
this bit of white - the presence of all
the lack of any...
just a bit of noise we are - afterall

I knew with a glance she was all herself...
and so many crowd so damn close
for the scraps of maybe being noticed.

"I don't want'a grow up - I'm'a..."

A rubic's cube with glasses and such a
puppydog's eyes... and watching as
each twist brings a new you in momentary
sight... and again... and again...

What is the price of my heart?
... just the price of admission...
but rubbish is emptied daily
and I am so thrown away...
and away

That kinda day flowing by...
I call life a Collage...
don't you?

Chris

Author's Note

Life as we live it...

Reviews

[Judy Ponceby]

Amazing. Thought provoking to say the very least. Fascinating imagery just flows by throughout this piece. And the collage concept of life....Brilliant! Enjoyed this very much :)