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White is the absence of color visually, but IS all colors in the light spectrum. Black is all colors visually, and the absence of light on the spectrum. This poem explores metaphorically, as well as the actual impact color, or lack of, has on our perceptions.
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White Mud
One’s conscience
Knows little discretion
While escaping oppressive ideologies
Flawed
Confused
Fear-driven
Spirit-driven
Still blood-hungry
Visceral drives
Some
Awaken
As oozing threat
Creates
Justification enough
Others
Like Wile E. Coyote
Need hardened concrete
Rendered to the head
Even if only
To see cartoon birds
Scrambled musical notes
A few
Recognize air’s disturbance
Space threatened by
The gathering energy
Boding well for
Seeing
Hearing
Feeling
Beyond the obvious
But for the non-expectant
Ebb and tide of patience
Emerges from the sea
As a winged lion
Roaring
Swirling
Through mist
Echoing its imagination
Enjoining
Indubitable pasts
Omni-present nows
Undefined futures
With
Fractal voicing
Having finally arrived
The sublime
Awakens
The many
Shapes
Forms
Colors
Words
Releasing
Creativity’s ever embracing
Yin and Yang
Space-time’s perpetual offering
Sadly accepting
Those hearts and minds absent color
Who
Realize not
Scintillating
Effervescent
Rainbow-rich
Life
Is there
For the making
Tomorrow
There will be
Further ebbs and flows
Perhaps diminishing
The
White Mud
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| Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather |
8/2/2012 |
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| yes, color has feeling mood, depth.....white mud is a visual! |
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| Reviewed by Budd Nelson |
7/26/2012 |
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once again a vast variety of points to ponder allowing the reader to explore its world.
budd |
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| Reviewed by Diana Legun |
7/26/2012 |
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| This feels to me like a psalm of 'appreciation'.....and an 'ode to recognition'. White mud. What a concept to elucidate visual absence, but spectral completness, there for the making. Anthem sung to awareness is what I hear in these lines. This holds for me a touch of Salvador Dali in the winged lion swirling through mist, and thereby instills a large dose of 'imagination' and free thought, which to me is the core of this poem. I treasure the word "Indubitable." White mud....it's just such a neat example. ~~ Diana |
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