the grass is soaked with every color

[kathryn]

Grass is soaked with every color
Each blade saturated in another hue
Technicolor fields for the kaleidoscope yields
chromatic ecstasy for far and few

see the world through a puddle of oil
become into the gallantry of art
there is a great evil, its combatants feeble
for black and white might yet suggest heart

this is the evil that lays me down
and covers me in shame on the bed
it’s a great attack and always comes back
and I bash bricks against my head

but I save my face, always save my face
this is the artist you see, I;m clear
hands opened out, purpose, future devout
I stare hard and see this ccareer

Yes I dare you, I dare you; I’ve challenged before
I’ve always come out strong
My eyes are the glass with facets of past
And they see more than where you belong

Scathing in retro, harkening film
That surfaced on colored liquid in time
Memories of greatness and withering saintess
This wonder is completely
All mine.

So I will win
And I will make the world better
Because I have made myself better
I have extened myself forever.

[Angela]

Hmmmm....and I'm wondering...is it possible to make the world a better place without making ourselves better? And is it possible to make ourselves better without making the world better? I'm really curious about how you would answer this, Kathryn. What do you think?

[Rob Currin]

I love the last line. Shakespeare often wrote about immortalization through verse in his sonnets and this is what I am reminded of in the last stanza. The Global Poetry Project has just welcomed another genius. Please continue to share your poetry with us. Few can make images jump out as you do.