Home | My Story | Rebel Without a Blouse | Satire | Humor | Modern Love | Poems | Watch | YouTube | Media | Photos | Links | Buy My CD | Calendar | Listen | Blog | Reviews | Buy my New Book! | Contact

COLORS
copyright 2005 La Tigresa (Donna Sue Scissors)

I want color.
Pink and yellow panties hung together on the line
excite my eyes
like the buzzing music that you hear inside your head when you are high.
Color turns me on;
that's why I went to Mexico, why Guatemala calls me.

O Lord, I live for beauty.
For the grace of sea birds
perched like elegant angels upon the pilings -
Egret, ibis,
archetypes, like sentinels sent by Egyptian gods
to guard the portal to this water-world
wherein I live in color,
living color,
live alive in color:
Color me joy, color me piercing violins of pleasure -
The violet-colored shadow from the water bottle,
The indigo liquid I drink from the goblet,
The melted flamingo patina that glazes the water at sunset
The melted flamingo patina that glazes the water at sunset --
This interplay of light and color, making love inside my eyes,
is also the reflection of the sounds I feel when I hear music:
That strain of violin strings
that trails along a wire strung from my pink nipple
through the center of my heart,
into my place of love,
and there upon the altar of my being sacrifices all for art -
Kills pain to give me pleasure,
suturing exquisitely my senses to the moment -
all senses knit together:
hearing/feeling/touching/kissing/blissing
eyes squinched shut so tight to squeeze out all the colors that were lying shut within,
like tubes of paint being firmly stroked up to the head of the cap
where colors come ejaculating out -
bright yellow, brilliant pink.,
GREAT GLOBS OF GOOEY PIGMENT SPUMING FORTH THE CRIMSON SEMEN
OF THE RAINBOW
Dip your brush in that, babe...
as I cream my purple panties with fantasies
of lilac, fuschia, periwinkle,
ochre, russet, lime, vermillion,
azure, silver, peach, carnelian,
magenta, scarlet, mauve, obsidian and cocoa--
I find that I'm an oozing palette dripping colors
like the juice of berries --
ooh, let 'em dribble down your chin, babe...

Suck the wet deep milky pink
of the raspberry fruit from the bottom of my yogurt cup;
Slurp it up
and with your luscious paint brush
dip into delicious color
smear your fingers in it
get them wet with stain that lavenders your lips,
then fingerpaint me, decorate me,
with the colors of your love.

It's the juxtaposition of colors that excites me
(pink and yellow and black)
the putting one on top of the other
(black overlaid on top of pink)
or squeezed up right next to the other
(yellowblackpink, yellowblackpink)
that turns me on.

Colors are vibrations, frequencies of movement;
Subatomic particles are dancing around furiously to different beats
to make pink
(a delicate minuet)
or yellow
(a bouncy reggae)
or black
(a techno-drone, a sub-molecular Beethoven of a sound bordering on deep purple)

I like to eat a color sandwich:
yellow pink black......
mmmmmmmm!
It eats me up with joy!