Category Archives: Color

To Your Eyes I Bend

The white ghost pursues you in the night, up the stairs you go into oblivion. In the hole you’re fearful to turn your back to the past. The shape of that moment, adherent to the walk down the steps of treasonous blindfolds. They chased you among the stars, within the pillars of magical trips. Your eyes blend in with the sea’s, they were five windfields and bright trees waving their hands up. The road passed through you, couldn’t see it as the planned paper airplanes settled. You were tricked by that presence, hadn’t seen it for more than forty seconds in view. The city streets were blurred, dancing in the sweet melody of blank canvases.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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Black And White Tiled Floors

In your head space, it feels sometimes like there’s a mountain atop your skull. Pressing against your brain, as if it could weigh down just enough to cut off any sort of bodily function to your other extremities. Its at these moments, I feel the most constricted within my own head space, as if a blood vessel pounds away. Like a headache that has no path of loosening, the tight grip on your throat. Your breaths are slow, everything is very skill the movements of things at the corner of your eye trick you. It’s interesting enough, to see if you can follow them. This isn’t always good, if you are trying to focus on getting something finished. Its your eyes possibly peering into another’s existence, but I guess the means for communication doesn’t exist within this realm? I guess its a metaphor, for wanting to reach out but you can’t. Is it real, or just a figment of your imagination?

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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A Porcelain Shrine

A blotched out imagination, it hides just behind your words that were unspoken. A truth never made known, can you feel it pulsing into your eye holes. Feathered out storms, your mouth hadn’t lost the words. They were yellow with traitorous fixtures, unfathomable they bled from your porcelain shrine work.  Like a child’s play, incursions aplenty and blamed for that tragic endway.  You pushed against the wind, it chimed with the noise in your ear as it buzzed repeatedly choking your tones. The stairs were red, they couldn’t be seen for they were invisible. Helmets with a hundred head’s, addressed with encapsulation, buried in the sand without a hand to hold you.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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Bled Down The Railing

Gnashing teeth, on a cord with a spark plug interlined. They were hundred full, outwind and brushed encrusted with caring features. That awestruck string, with the key within the window seal glancing at your fortwit. Bled down the railing, of the cuff noises that could never be canceled from a chiming tune. Brisk and broadened, one mere choice hadn’t been closed out in a bleak formation. That rock clashed in tune, with the groundskeeper who made it with golden schillings. That bloated pulsating beer guzzling bear, snarled as it shined in the moonlight. It smiled and winked, in pursuit of a great blessing. You couldn’t find the time, it hadn’t pressed the button to dawn. Fighting for every word, you can’t believe it was so shameful.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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Could Not Find It All Here

Screaming in your ear, like a connection of broadband to the networks. They search for the data to continue the function, an army of numbers filled the circuits. Single file lining, it twirled awaiting your indulgence furiously. An explosion ever so tingling in your flickered light manifesting in a tuned wind draping. Abrupt and robust abbreviations, slathered on your wall within the drapes like candy coated fruit snacks. Neverware and fondly in remembrance, rainbows aren’t really colors at all. They gleam and glisten, as if they were crystals on a undiscovered planet for the first time. The views are yet distorted, inferior and complaining of any sort of folly. Little toy’s you used to enjoy, now disappear but its quite fine now you haven’t lost it all.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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Distilled, Yet Remorseful

Misconduct while tapping on the steel drum, they told you that you could handle this brush with travesty. A sad gesture, with a tainted frolic in blinded housing in which that maker came with an instructional outlet. You did the opposite turning, in wasn’t forward in your showing just yet. You lost all sense of dignity and components, I feel for these times of labored frivolousness. You were all empty minded, it felt as if I could not struggle for the right to oppose. Callous were these objects of triumphant spearing, would you find a rule of for these words that tore down. Would you fall apart, would it be nothing more than blessed intrusions for the afflicted.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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In Operational Surprise

I’m trapped fighting within these walls of treason, this routine became embanked and forward to a stand still. I felt a joyless circumference wash over my entire self, my eyes watered from the moisture of doubt with a pinch of selfish indignation. It’s the operative word, in a final swing as it closes in with a fictitious swallow. Silence is encouraged, you are to drown in your own decadent swamp. It was created to press us, making us doubt our own wills from a soulful yet blissful adventure. The gun pointed at your temple, would you flee or fight as they pursued. It came from a solo banking, in wonder of a trolley that was just a few miles from home again.

If you guys would like, in the future leave ideas for titles on my Poems. I would be happy to use them, and I will give you the added benefit of showcasing your blog on my page!! 😉

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

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