The Chase

She chased carefree and naive to all but her beauty
Tiptoeing, swirling, rocking to the beat of the music
Liquors lifting her spirits, up in bliss and oblivion
Dancing to the sound of drums
She drifted to the haven of lust and unbearable desire
Never thinking of what she'd lost and would lose
Carefree liberty weightless of that belly bump erupting into her life


- Technicolor poet - 

Petite princesse

Petit bouton de rose
Qui tremble comme une feuille
Après avoir traversé le désert brûlant.


Joues de velour et traits délicats
Si petite et tant de tracas.
Mais sa grâce et son innocence
Vaincrons ces forces néfastes qui mettent sa vie au défi.


Telle un chêne et un roseau, 
Elle portera sa tête en reine
Et fera tirer leur révérence à ces déchéances


Toddler princess, you charmed all by your flawless face
Bright and lively you are a water lily
Sweet and delicate


- Technicolor poet - 

A little wonder

Wonders came my way, strolling carefree and merry
Stopped for a chat "What color is the sky do you think" they said pointing a finger to the heavens One eyebrow lifted in puzzlement Then, finger down on their chin, creasing eyebrows, they set a foot on a rock, the other always on the gravels "What say you stranger?" "I say the sky is a reflection of what you want it to be. A happy rainy grey, a depressing white, a blue hue, or lilac" "What a delightful thought said the wonders" And off they went, a skip in their stroll, flinging their cane in front of them, a whistle and a tune. 


- Technicolor poet - 

Irony and Destiny

Clarity is a rarity.
Irony and destiny walk hand in hand
Playing on the same grounds, 
Giving priority to one or the other. 
One hits, the other receives and hits back
An endless game of ball and giggles 
Of who hits best, and hits the highest 
Who shall have the last word on the matter
Perhaps time and life might enter the game. 
No life, no irony and a jobless destiny. 
Dead men makes it preposterously ironic.
Gigantism of doubt and "future will tell".
But future won't, future is time's son.
He can't do much but go forward towards Unknown.
Unknown fools around with Destiny. 
They enter a sultry tango, devising wry plans.
Lovers looking down upon ant-like souls.
After all, Time is never-ending, 
Better keep busy... 


- Technicolor poet- 

Golden not forbidden

Your smile's like a tempest in my chest
Your eyes, a glow to my ships' prow
Your touch, a feather in my heart's weather
Your soul, golden but not forbidden


The thing is. You bring me ease.
You step in. I'm shining
And finally I breathe, and start to believe. 
You're coming, I'm humming.


Singing a melody most enchanting.
Dancing a dance like an uprising.
Treading on paths worth taking.
Living like we are dying. 


-Technicolor poet-

Time

Begging the clocks to stop and carry me through time
Time, be my friend and fight against yourself
Yourself you don't know what it's like to miss a moment
Moment when your life was bound to change but disagreed with destiny
Destiny that foolish hag who gives it out regardless of sense
Sense, double word with reason and emotion, brain and heart
Heart, mechanism that rules life if life doesn't intervene to shut heart down
Down, came the clocks one by one with a chime and a sigh
Sigh of relief, no longer responsible for the woes of men


Technicolor poet

Life happened

Strolling through a rose garden, she scorched her thumb on a thorn
To appease the burn she tugged it in her mouth, her eyes to the rose turned, in scorn


What had she done to the malevolent sanguine flower
To give it the almighty hurting power


To the sun the flower turned its head, imploring forgiveness
For she was the victim of nature's random ruggedness 


Thumb healed and heart settled, the fairy touched the petals to her cheek
And up came the oh so sweet fragrance of blissful chic


The flower had not wronged her purposefully 
It had no mind of its own to control its folly


Life happened on that day
At least, that's what they'd say

Technicolor poet