i dyed my hair a shade of blue last winter.
fiery blue passion no one understood.
a mere representation of solemn,
of my heart's sullen cry.

like the bombay sapphire
my bartender tossed each night.
shots after shots
spiralling endlessly in earnest.

lingering down the esophageus,
star bursting into microscopic galaxies.
scorching every touch.
burning off every trace of your memory.

spring passed,
and now summer has entered.
the blue has faded.
time weeds out the good and the bad of it all.

memories no longer appear as a comic strip line.
but juts out like an eyesore,
like dark clouds in a clear blue sky.
as if indecisive, only ever wanting the best of both worlds.

blue stains are unforgivable,
though in time all blurs and gets forgettable.
there is no reason for bitter.
though you carry as a blanket for its comfort.

when summer slips by, and
you're holding the fort once more for the bitter cold nights.
the blue shines bright and this time
you embrace it like a starry night sky.

Your words dance
Landing perfectly
Upon my heart
Like a slow motion glide
The ballet begins
Raising the rate
With each breath
Commanding the stage
Demanding an audience
From a simple Plie'
Stretching, pushing, pressing
To the long awaited
Yet under rated Pirouette
Your words land
Holding life in your hands
Capturing me
K.Turnage
5-8-15

Insignia,
The other children,
Half spent on vinyl lies,
And cherished forgers,

Chunk, all the seamlessly,
Rudimentary stigmas,
Hollow and dismal,

Searching oceans of nothing but,
Something all together

Once you see
Keep moving
Go and seek whats true
Do no hesitate improving
Walking barfoot on the street
May the street be cold or warm
My outside will start a storm
Do not stop
Keep moving
Once you set motion in your thouhgts.

You flow kinetic
Like a quiet rain - Motion
Leaf in pond water

the world phenomenal
  it seems
has always been
a threat or a temptation

to catch it all
in its totality
or to improve on it
with thought's ideal rules
  sharpened by generations
have caused discussions
over centuries

the other night
we saw a stately scholar do
   rather spontaneously
an old Greek dance
in one of Athen's old-town restaurants

her body moved
graceful yet meticulous
  gave shape to measured
steps and figures
  known over centuries
  in the small village of her birth

and while she shared with us
the ancient spirit of her place
  her dancing caught
  the joyous moment of that night

                    * *

Die, ambition; earth awaits
You'll lie there soon and there you'll stay
And apathy: your twin, I say,
Beside you I myself will lay
His cruel and contorted face
So bent from years of shunning grace
So trapped in his immobile state
Afraid to move for fear of waste
Such irony that now his fate
Is lying still within his grave