This is so exactly me, lol

You Are Teal Green

You are a one of a kind, original person. There's no one even close to being like you. Expressive and creative, you have a knack for making the impossible possible. While you are a bit offbeat, you don't scare people away with your quirks. Your warm personality nicely counteracts and strange habits you may have.

What Color Green Are You?

Song of War

The final wedge is driven
up beneath my breastbone
by my father, from whom I never
thought to look for it.

I seek the red tiger now,
as he bounds through snow -
my arrow, my sword.

Like an ember he burns
my path forward from here
in the wake of the rising sun,
through the cycles of the moon.

I choose not the way of the warrior,
it chooses me.
I make my most perfect bow
and sing to my ancestors
for a good day to die.

Morning Magic

I heard sparrows trill this morning
to arouse the day.

My eyes, desirous of remaining closed,
retained the imprint of you

as the fragrance of summer rose
drawn by warmth from sun.

All my wishes coalesce into your lips
imagined on my resting skin,

firing the machine of fantasy
to mimic January heat

when children giggle through sprinklers
and dogs sag on porches.

Touch your fingers to seeds,
adrift on summer's breeze,
and send them to caress me.

I will love their feather brush,
incant to them a spell that holds the ocean
in a scallop shell

so you may step across
and kiss my waking lids;

relinquishing the make believe
for freshly conjured bliss.

Magpies

Like a magpie
she collects shiny coins.
She has no respect for them,
but they buy her respect
from other birds.

She would gladly shun magpies
if only she could find
a kiwi who would brave
the sun for her.

robot girl

kisses her face to the air -
air kiss, air kiss,
eyes closed, countenance glazed
with a rapture mask.

She folds doom in her hands
sucking on the sweet edge of tears;
listens to Radiohead pour
and break their guitar notes.
Her response is electronic,
her howl is supersonic.

Metal spurs in her brain
cogitate cyber psychology;
pure super ego wrapped around
a vaccum of positrons.
Why does she have to have
the melancholy chip
in a world that loves smiley surfaces?
She has no smooth flesh,
only the iron bolts of a grimace.

Metropolis