Just Another White Out!
White out!
In a white box on
my white sheets,
where my ivory
skin gleams pale,
as the white blinds
reflect bright beams,
I sip white tea
as thoughts rise
to white ceilings
where they
bounce back
onto white sheets
penned in gray,
penciled stencils
of reflections,
captured on
a snowy noon.
Is God sitting
somewhere upstairs,
in a white realm
larger still,
comptemplating earth's
great darkness,
where whiter
souls can't exist,
writing poems with
huge white letters,
dot to dot
across the skies,
each a soul who's
gone to join him,
far above where
lovers kiss.
In a white room
somewhere I'll lay,
on white porcelain
to drain,
all life's forces
from my pale flesh,
bright red washed
clean, flushed away
under white stone
they will lay me,
in a box lined
satin white,
much like where
I now am laying,
only smaller,
this my fate.
I should gather
multi-colored,
gallon cans
of latex paint,
splatter them
across the starkness,
of this whiteness,
set it free
life's too short to
fill with blankness,
clouds aren't lovely
without blues,
Folks are bland
without their colors,
see the beauty,
share thier dreams
skip the white,
there's other views
add some pigment,
let it loose.
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