2/20/09

Paint Me Blue

Paint me blue!

I don’t mean some contrived, cool and creamy calm
composed to quell loquacious psyches’
sappy compulsion!
I don’t mean no half-assed, think fast
cause you ain't gonna last
your time has passed,
you been out-classed
revulsion!

Paint me blue!

I'm talkin' about that fresh and frigid, roaringly rigid
and lung-clearing bridge between living and dying!
I mean such an absolute zero-nearing,
either you're God-fearing
or you find death endearing,
or maybe your doubt's disappearing
deepest dark before dawn
that flows and swells, spacious and mighty!

YES! Paint me blue!

I don't want some cocky crimson, flimsy whimsy, feigning
some waxing and waning for weary want of choice
and screaming "Look at me!"
I will not be a washed up and wayward wanna-be
who cannot see
beyond the tree.
I don't need an audience.
I need a voice!

Paint me blue!

Tattoo my skin, yes, but in that artist's muse
I do refuse the merely shallow boarding of wanter's wagon.
If I'm a canvas, then let it be so
but not of posturing,
No!
You use this chance
to embrace and enhance
the truth to be told by metaphor's AND literal's dance!

Paint me blue!

I don't mean no quiet and cool placater's tool
designed to calm the savage beast.
I won't hear "obey the rules" from feckless fools
inclined and disposed and plain ol' tempted
to sedate seditious sentiment
out of man's original sin
of terror, that is,
that his own nature will be found out!

Paint me blue!

No clunky cliche'
for some "true blue" segue
which begs to bestow
a hypocritical oath that,
with tongue firmly in cheek,
still harbors a Freudian green
of he who can do no harm
despite bearing no serious clout.

Paint me blue!

Give me the deepest and truest
that is passion's bluest
reward for the guts to taste
and touch
and feel what all is up to
and past hypothetical borders.
I have but one life to live, and live it I shall!
These are *MY* marching orders!

PAINT ME BLUE!!!

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