my crayola mind

my mind is a marvelous place to be,

equipped with an imagination

as colorful as crayola crayons

and more creative than their quirky names.


the actual brain may be pinkish grey,

but today my mind is cerulean blue,

a crisp, clear day, not a cloud in the way,

although tomorrow it might be a sorrowful cadet blue

if that one unmellow yellow nightmare

actually comes true.


or maybe it will be razzle dazzle rose,

sending scarlet to my cheeks and twinkles to my toes

as i imagine my mahogany man coming over with

a magenta heart and magic mint breath

that takes mine away.


that mahogany skin is somethin’ serious,

and thinking of almond and chestnut and

brown skin basking in the sunglow

makes me so delirious,


but i get sea foam green sick thinking about how

some apricot and peach people aren’t scared of outer space

but are too frightened to speak with fellow americans

about white privilege and the issue of race.


my mind is a radical red party

where people can jazzberry jam

with any woman or man

and women don’t have to worry about laser lemon eyes

salaciously staring at their bare thighs.


my mind wanders through purple mountain majesty

and through amber waves of grain,

and wonders where the hell are those

red, white and blue rights that we were supposedly given,

that we didn’t need to gain.


thoughts like that paint my mind an outrageous orange,

so i calm myself back down to a pacific blue,

and i sit back and ponder how i’ll use my colorful mind

to color the world little by little

starting sometime soon.



I love this poem. You touched both the lingering child in me and the scared adult I'm becoming

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