poem: Getting Rid of Yellow

I remember blue.

  And all of my yesterdays coalesce,

    to discharge tomorrow

from a smoking barrel

   and I think maybe I am mistaken-

perhaps just the filter for the lens

      was blue.

And I put it there,

   trying to rid my life of memories of the yellow.

But everything turned verdant, instead

    of fading

like they always told me

    was supposed to have happened.

And maybe it rained milk

   that day

       and the yellow I thought was mustard gas

was really honey

   because, well, such is the way of memories-

 they lead you astray,

   down paths of broken mirrors

 that only reflect partial truths

    and real feelings, but distorted

and maybe it was never real after all.

    But damnit-

somewhere, somehow,

   I remember blue-

and I always associated it with you.

Reviews

[smkb90]

I picked to read this poem because I have a very deep connection to the color yellow, and to think someone wanted to get rid of it baffled me a little. I started to read it with the misconception that I wouldn't like it, yet I ended up loving it. I love the sequence, the flow and the choppiness of it all. It was like a thought, like a dream. The images were strong. I guess it took me a little out of my thoughts and gave me an insight into to yours, at least while you were writing this. Thank you, it was a very happy surprise and a nice poem.

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you for the time you took to read this, dear poet. I am glad you enjoyed it even though you did not expect to. Sometimes things come to me and they really are like fragments of a waking dream. This one was indeed like that for me, and it turned oput I thinkbetter than others. I associate yellow with madness, and approach it with caution, for what it is worth.

[LJW]

I chose to read this from your list because of its unique title.

A contemplative piece indeed. Yellow....milk....honey...or mustard gas and rain. It's all in the perception and interpretation of the moment AND further muddled by the recollection of memories. Recoilection if they shoot out of a gun. :-) Nicely captured here. Really, really nicely.

Yesterdays discharging tomorrow from a smoking barrel. Brilliant concept. Wished I'd written that line.

"I remember blue"..The first line is also a line I wish I wrote. Paints (visually and emotionally) an instant canvas for the reader to sit back and take in the whole painting.

Contemplative and soul searching....what I consider to be the trademarks of your writing.

[Tree]

Just mining for, and appreciating your work. I was commenting with another
friend here how much the color blue seems to mean to people, and how
the color can trigger things inside of us. Another good poem here.

[Larry Dyson]

I think and dream in colors as well...and yes I do associate them with people..mostly Auras...but they tend to be less oure than one color alone...perhaps they are mixtures more of the personal essences,,,nice.

[Emily B]

i don't know about you, but i get tired of blue

[Clockwork]

The curse at the end really brings the piece down to an emotional personal level which really speaks. I like the association of colors with emotions overall as well. I also like how you described memories--I think that descriptions accurately describes elements of past lives that have a habit of affecting how we live our lives.

[Axis]

I like how you ended this!