Chromodynamics
poem about colors
I swallowed a kaleidoscope
to spit rainbows;
red for the halos
of angels who fly at night,
orange in their temples,
buzzing off of fruits.
yellow like ichor or
green like the ginkgo biloba:
panacea for too many blue bottles and
ultraviolet teeth.
in all the brilliance I spewed
not one pot of gold.
1art by Pragna Gaddamedi (@prgs.jpeg)
Poetry Tip of the Day!
Hey it’s been a little while, but I wanted to drop this piece in the spirit of bringing a little color into your new year. It’s 2025 now, and in the last 4 years of “real adulthood” I’ve found that far too much is left to chance. We see our friends less, and when we do, the expectation for a good time is so much higher. It’s easy to remember the times we woke up and rolled out of bed not knowing it would be the best day ever. There didn’t need to be an expectation for a good time. Worst case, we could try again tomorrow. That is no longer the case. A “good” time requires careful planning and timing and follow through and LUCK. Here is to leaving less to luck in 2025 :)
beast (colorized)