Trifter

The sweet color of blue reminds me of those long spring days sitting in fourth grade classes, quiet and pristine Pleasant Street School. The foundation for youth lost in day dreams of butterfly chases and mid afternoon salamander hunts.  Games of tripper and swimming at the point for hours till mom’s voice loudly echos with the reverence of a Mullah calling worshipers to prayer.

Red reminds me of them, all of them.  The woman in our lives.  Dealing with our own self created madness, alcoholic tendencies and far beyond typical house owning suite and tie Mazda driving contradictions.  Red reminds of beautiful night before there was sex, when you could just lay and watch the night, laugh at jokes you weren’t sure were really funny, and just drive and smoke cigarettes and drink coffee till 5 am, and all because it was cool with you two.

Green reminds me of warm iron railroad tracks on back roads all over the lakes area.  Summer kissing half naked bodies and laughter breaking the air more than the buzz of nature all out wandering, working, and living it’s magic around me.  The sip of Budweiser, the clouds of the Hindu Kusch Vally mixing with the blue heaven above.

Black reminds me of those days I have lost control.  When I can’t hold on any longer and the need for flight instinctualy takes over.  Do for yourself or do for the for the person you see who really needs help?  I have given bums my last three bucks and not eaten for three days for it.  But am I paying for my idiocy because he drank it away that night, or will karma blow kiss me with a scratch ticket for $25,000 so I can finally quite work and never write in black again.   Because I am sick of writing for something that has lost touch with the colors of the world. I just want to write in colors because I am sick of  the everyday black and white.

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