Black Moods

[If you ask me]

I’d rather be in black than red,

seeing through darkness,

instead of ire,

a coast alight with blood and pyre,

I concentrate my one desire,

in self,

in mellow,

yellow buses boom,

I sing the song once in tune,

the blues,

The Blues?

jazzy inferences,

Harlem Nights,

and Langston Hughes…

I celebrate on greener pastures,

twirling about under silent sky,

yet so violent,

so violet!

open expanding eye,

let me peer upon the whites,

as Indigo goes,

and Orange implodes,

in sands ignored,

then have calibration rule again,

sensing time and space,

in mood, my friend.

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