12.17.2014

Blurred Lines

New Year Poetry Challenge, Prompt #8*
"Consider a box of crayons: the colors, the smell, the weight of it in your hands, that little sharpener in the back on the 64 crayon box, the excitement or intimidation of a new box, the way you miss the retired colors, the way the newer colors never seem quite right (wait...that might just be me). Write a poem inspired by a box of crayons."


Blurred Lines

Artists are blurry.
   They kick up dirt in dance
   and paint gritty portraits
   where the dust settles.
Their songs are often poems
that married melody
sometimes by love, sometimes by force.
   They are foggy harbors
   and sun-kissed waves
   all in one moment of longing.
Lines cross religiously
on every blank page
of possibility.
   They are an unopened box of crayons,
   a fresh scent of youth,
   yet still the wisdom of a discarded wrapper.
An artist is an untouched Burnt Sienna
highlighting the edges of an oak tree doodle
and a broken, flattened Cerulean
filling space with the illusion of sky.
   Artists are blurry.

12.17.14 es

IG: @daydreamifications

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