BLUE POET’S SECRET

79 pieces

ORANGE

My blue goddess

In the wastelands of colours,

Guilty as charged

You Started as my Blue

What is stronger?

Lost in colours

Orange was gone

New, old, again

life is what it throws at you

Brown with a bit of white

There is a time

Chapter 1: This is me and my colours

Mr. Coward and Prof. Poet

Black red white

In seeing black

Chinese proverb

Why not just write

To write what is in my head

Keeping sain, how do you do it ? Am I crazy, have I got a mental disorder?

Have you ever sat down like I do right know and thought of what is and has happened to you lately.

For whom it concerns

Brown and grey lines

Morning writing

Watching a screen

A time of reflection

Sitting and Thinking

Sitting in the hotel my mind is in a million places, all the colours gone. Worrying, thinking, all the things I did and did not do, everyday again.

A trembling leg

White full of colour

May the day be yellow

A dream that became a start to write

A dream in so many ways in so may forms, though is just one I plot down…

Yellow and orange

Black needs to go

Some free writing – explicit

I walk through the hallway of an old Victorian hotel, looking at the room numbers in orange gold, I find the number I’m looking for 269. I knock, the door is gently opened and I’m received by your two sparkling eyes, you wearing a black dress, the one I admired as it shows your lovely figure.

Hmmmm what else

A Shalow street

Sounds of streets

Blue bright sky

Sometimes you read

Early in Moscow

Colors in a different light

Better without orange

The sun on my face

Orange as in no orange

Fickle of the mind

Alone in myself

Orange Collision

Orange collision

Not about orange

The rainbow by blue

My colorful mind

Parisian moment

Drapes of a terrace

A bit of rainbow

Water trembling