Color Poem

Meet D. T.

Dark Truffle has layers: quiet – never making uproar, peaceful – resolving arguments among friends, private – reserves personal thoughts to their germane situation, and pensive – lost in the gears of the mind and forgetting to speak.

Dark Truffle appears gloomy, but given a chance the warm core can become palpable.

Dark Truffle under dissection reveals a sturdy brown heart under an elusive plum skin.

Dark Truffle is the element Earth – rich soil to grow flourishing gardens.

Dark Truffle's is the character Shrek, which by extension means Dark Truffle is like an onion.

Dark Truffle wears comfortable around-the-house clothes wherever they don’t look obscenely out of place, but when fancy calls Dark Truffle turns strikingly chic – pixie-short hair styled to enhance the eyes, a chocolate toned dress running the length of a slender body.

Dark Truffle slides across flat paths, rolls with hills, and glides over irregular bumps like they’re polished marble. 

Dark Truffle lives alone, but loneliness is avoided through visiting friends.

Dark Truffle sounds like grass rustling  as a choir of crickets chirp.

Dark Truffle cannot play music, so instead music of all types is listened to and appreciated.

Dark Truffle feels silky smooth and refreshingly cool.

Dark Truffle smells like a room out of Willy Wonka’s factory.

Dark Truffle zaps the taste buds with bitterness when eaten without patience but is sweetly satisfying if allowed to melt on the tongue piece by piece.

Dark Truffle is the ellipsis at the end of incomplete thoughts.

Dark Truffle’s texture is smooth like glass yet appears to have a liquid face.

Dark Truffle is the feeling you get after you and a friend fight and reconcile.

Danger of Judgment

When we met I thought poor;

You were nice, sweet, fun.

But you were immature.

I thought bad for this.

You ditched practice,

Fooled around instead of working on skills.

And once you hurt me.

So I learned to see you as a boy,

A fun yet immature boy,

Who was also a jackhole for messing with me.

(granted it was an accident)

But then I went fishing.

I learned a different side.

You broke off something to protect my friend.

You apologized to me.

I learned to see you new;

One conversation made the difference.

And I admitted I was wrong.

(sorry again for misjudging)

So let's go on as friends,

And make some fun and games.

And teach each other to be better.

'round Again

Heart beating with celerity,

Smiles exchanged rapidly.

Already I feel it's come 'round again.

I heard of this one from friends of past,

Now I learn who this one is behind a name mask.

Already I feel it's come 'round again.

Saw this one at lunch the first time.

Stumbled into the same one 24 later.

Quick observations and conversation.

Already I feel it's come 'round again.

The first connection through someone shared,

Then hours of learning each other's ways.

Already I feel it's come 'round again.

The second connection by this one I know.

Perhaps friend is your title; perhaps that is how this one is meant to be.

But already I feel it's come 'round again.

You and me. Me and you. Ready to explore as it comes 'round again.

Apology :(

I hope you can let go of what I said last.

Anger. Frustration. Disappointment.

Sadness. Understanding.

Take your pick. It was all there.

We made up; is it past the point of apologies?

I am sorry I lost my temper

And wrote biting things about/to you.

I was wrong.

I pray you have the patience to try to understand why I snapped.

You should know, as soon as we cleared up the misinterpreted text, any anger there, vanished. Or rather turned inward on myself, because I had just written up something bitter. And then I felt hurt that I used time that way. While I typed my pain out, I noticed I couldn't be exactly mad at you. More accurately...

Frustrated with our circumstances. 

Wishing your parents didn't shoot down your attempts to be a friend.

Wishing I had brushed it off like I have previously.

You asked if I had been angry with you; I said yes – it wasn't that simple. I was wrong to say that too. So I ask you to forgive me, for getting angry, and also for hanging onto the whole matter like this.

Breaking Point

This is the last straw;

I'm tired of flaking,

Because I feel taken for granted,

Always that way when you stand me up.

After tonight it's up to you to hang out.

Apparently control is not in our hands;

No, just my hands.

I've been drowned by you too many times;

Actions speak louder than words right?

So now I let your words dissolve...

Into acid of disappointment.

Let's not be mistaken:

It is out of your control after all,

So perhaps it is unfair to pin the fault on you?

What's that? Oh sorry I was thinking,

Just trying to decide where you stand

In my mental rankings.

Based on feelings, you're in solid ice.

And you should know my feelings well.

Clearly you always meant more to me

Than I do you...

Not that you understand what that's like.

Does this happen to others?

Meaning are you a flake to everyone?

Or is it me only?

Secret

I have something... Information.

But sharing is rather tricky.

How to say and avoid confrontation?

Oh bother, this situation proves sticky.

Okay I'll try to spit it out.

I really am trying alright.

But I seem to be held back by doubt.

What if I wreck a friendship held tight?

If you read this, I hope you'll ask.

Once you know the past will seem clear.

Asking will help peel the long worn mask.

Of course, if not heard, no harm here.

So it is entirely your choice.

Ask and then the answer I shall voice.

Earth to Self

Give it up.

There's nothing for you here.

Move on.

Don't drain yourself.

Enjoy how it is... because it's good.

But forget? NO.

The present is not the future.

A closed door ≠ a locked door.

Save it for another day.

Invest time somewhere better.

Leave the chaos to the wolves.

Walk. Away.

Mea Amica, Corva

You have much you could teach me.

I have much I could teach you.

Neither of us is ready.

Or do we hold back in fear?

You like me.

I like you.

Neither of us is in a good place for that.

Is it safe to say a good place will never be found?

You are a cradle I found safe;

I would return ev'ry night if possible.

You are the leaves;

Free with the wind,

But can be stopped by small things.

You are the running mountain water.

Cold at a glance,

Warm within.

Carving its own path.

But you are not the ringing bell.

Commanding. Bossy.

The icon of the church (building).

I too am not the Bell.

I can be the light at the end of the tunnel,

Or I can chose to be a hidden mine;

Tread carefully.

I am the lone wolf.

I never find a place perfect for me.

I howl at the stars; they are my friends.

But I am certainly not fire;

You are fire.

Fascinating and magnetic,

Yet requiring caution and

A steady hand to preserve the power.

THANKSGIVING

Turkey
Holiday
Awesome food
No dessert limit
Know not how much food
Stomach filled to burst
Give thanks to host
Invite the family over
Vent about rest of family
I need a break from all the people
Nap after lunch
Give thanks

Purr-fect

You were a mess under that wheel well.

How did you even get there?

Guess I'll never know that part.

<I don't even know how.>

<But why would I remember that?>

<Remember that when I can remember you,>

<How you picked me out and took me home.>

You were a true friend.

Always there when I got home.

<It was the best part of my day.>

When I had a bad day,

You were ready to be comforter.

On a rainy day we would curl up together.

Just you and me.

<Some of my most memorable days.>

You were the best bed buddy on a stormy night.

Kept watch over our home;

You beat out any ol' guard dog.

<Wasn't gonna let no bad guy past my watch.>

Then I brought someone new into the circle;

Your seal of approval meant more than I expected.

<His feet were warm and smelled nice.>

<His touch was soft and gentle.>

Truly I am sorry how it ended.

If I could have done more I would have.

You know I would have.

<It's okay.>

<You did your best.>

<I am sure of it.>

<Guilt lies hold humans back.>

<Listen to transparent truth;>

<If not for yourself, for me.>

<Be happy>

Thank you.

Rest in peace. Cargo,

The best cat ever.

<And you, the Purr-fect Purr-son.>

Vivacious

I go to a stranger's house;

I feel at home without first setting foot.

I read with secret friends;

We talk as though we've known each other forever,

Though some I hardly know by name.

I speak my thoughts,

Some right,

Some wrong.

I ask questions;

I receive answers,

Some I concur,

Others I forget.

We also have a lesson:

We give it sense through talk.

It is okay for questions to go unanswered.

We are safe.

We are open.

We are family.

We are steadfast.

Shadow

I walk into a place well known;

I know not what this place is.

I sit surrounded be those called siblings;

You are no family I recognize.

I sing songs which sometimes I know and love;

I cannot joyfully dance along,

Lost in the rhythm.

I listen to a teacher;

The lesson does not make sense,

Containing holes and contradictions.

I leave as a shadow;

Seen invisibly,

Spoken to mutely,

Heard silently.

Patience

What is Patience?

We grow up hearing,

"Patience is key."

"Be patient."

"Good things come to those who wait."

But no one "teaches" us how to be patient.

It can't be demonstrated like building a sand castle;

It can't be observed as an individual action.

Yet children are scolded for lacking patience.

But still, they are not "taught" how to be patient.

So patience can't be shown... 

Does that make it intrinsic to individual?

Unteachable?

Perhaps patience is not what children lack.

What if they instead lack an ability:

The ability to self-entertain while waiting.

Put idle energy to a different positive use.

So how does one self-entertain?

They may be content simply observing their surroundings.

Or perhaps it suits their fancy to have a puzzle on-hand.

Maybe they enjoy a power nap.

Or chatting with a friend.

Is there a task they could finish while waiting?

How do they occupy themselves in other free time?

Patience:

Not complaining while waiting?

Or

Self-occupying while waiting?

Experience

When is experience too much for one's own good?

Won't too widely varying experiences cause one to fall into the paradox of choice?

Won't too narrow an experience create a provincial mind?

So what is the happy medium?

Perhaps it is the first know a base of morals, then leave opinions to the wind.

Understanding increases with experience (more or less),

But what is understanding?

We nod and say we understand,
But then act on our own opinion anyways.

Is understanding proven with action?

Or is it possible to understand

Even if the consequence of action isn't internalized?

Is "understanding" a concept or a behavior?

You can "understand" advise but not take it...

And a child follows instructions as they understand them,
So that makes it an observable behavior?

Is it possible to conclude it can be both:
Intangible concept and perceivable behavior

Window

I want to see you as you are,

Without society's costume.

Please, show me a clear window.

Time will shorten the gap.

Icy barriers slowly melt.

Walls, yours and mine, will weather away.

But is there enough time to fill the empty space complete?

Surrender to the warmth and security.

Our essences will intertwine and grow together.

Let this spark catch; it can blossom into a warming fire.

I think of you often; I wonder if you do the same.

I wonder what you think of me.

Am I weird?

Am I crazy?

Am I kind?

Am I safe?

Trustworthy?

What kind of trustworthy?

Will you trust me with words alone?

Or will you show me?

I trust you.

Enough to tell.

Enough to show.

But my original statement stands:

You will show me first and I will give back.

A clear window.