Also, it strikes me now that if you broke this up into lines to look more like a poem, it might be more readable.
Poetry / Red
It’s the sound of my ipod shuffling and midnight radio shows as they radiate into out ears. Their brake lights greet us as its drum beats and heartbeats ring out of our ears. We drive slow around and down windy roads watching for its laughter in its cabrio, honking at deer for safety’s sake. It’s the color of our communication and the feeling that’s cool after it’s own rising temperatures within crowed rooms. It’s after the exchange of its own warm embrace for passes and wristbands as we run the show. It’s the chaos behind closed doors, where it’s laughter starts with lines of paying kids. It smiles like Taco Bell’s parking lot and how it’s laughter struck us again; while making fun of Jack for liking a girl, and throwing rocks to watch him squirm. It feels like fresh air flowing through the window keeping us awake as we drive back home on 695. It looks like my face on the day after warped. It feels like summer and the anthem of our dying day. It’s our Death Cab and Bright eyes connotations. It’s the signs of the beginning and end of everything: love, life, salvation, friendship, heartbreak. It can taste like disaster and look like it too, with it’s pulsating sirens and flashing lights. But it feels like the cities and towns I’ve called home on those nights: Baltimore. Waldorf. DC. Bristow. Old Bridge. Centerville. Falls Church. It’s those days on city streets slipping through it’s lights, fitting into parking spaces and reenacting frogger while carrying equipment. It may smell like midnight summer dream or broken axe cans or feel like leather seats or taste like the gum lost in between, but it’s not my color or my taste. I generally prefer the enchanting greens. A mighty contrast versus his vibrant hues. One could say we compliment in tune. This is the color of our friendship and everything we do. From the road trips to the basement shows. Backstage to the floor of the hall. It’s the color of our sunsets conversing with our skylines about the weather. Its summer fading into fall. The victories we have enjoyed and the battled we have always overcome. It’s the struggle of the fog and taking time to get home. It’s the color of Spiderman 2 at midnight with the rosewood boys. It’s the band practices and happy meal nights. Its how we hang with the best and show no loss of respect. This color screams the name of my best friend.
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ch reviewed Version 1 -
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“this is the color of friendship..” i love that. and the smell of a taco bell parking lot made me smile ear to ear. I like the style in which you write. Melancholy but optimistic, and very smooth. From time to time i think there is a little overkill with description, but its not a glaring downside. is there any way to extend your pieces? they feel like brilliant images to what could be a much greater journey. i like this, and i love the title.
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ruthybird reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a good description. I love “It’s the color of our sunsets conversing with our skylines about the weather.” You have a lot of great lines in this. It’s kind of a stream of consciousness, but it holds together.
chrisnightbird reviewed Version 1 -
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This is great!
Although blue is my favorite personally, red can describe the most passionate of emotions. The love, the tears, and total ecstasy.
The one thing is I’m not really sure what the last line means.
Other than that it’s wonderful, lyrical poetry.
riversmonkey2k reviewed Version 1 -
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A review of modern life, its the best form of writing about what you know and what you experience as many others can easily when relate when they read a piece such as this. Good stuff.
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