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Amazingly Bad Poetry Journal Review Classic - Colors

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Oct. 9th, 2011 | 03:48 pm

Colors
by Ana, Mission Viejo, CA
originally posted May 2005 (holy shit!)


Let's see,today, I will wear red,
the color of passion rising in my heart,
tomorrow, green, the color of hope,
like the new vegetation, young grass;
perhaps the day after, I will wear yellow
like a daffodil, and imitate the sun
while I warm myself under its rays
and after that, blue to reflect the sky
and the coolness of sea waves;

In the private realm of my bedroom,
I will wear white, the sum total of color
because there my passion, my hopes,
my dreams come together
and before I go to sleep,
they will vaporize
and became the mist of remembrance
that rises to celebrate life!


This is "If Mallory from "Family Ties" wrote a poem"... ...will you just pick something to wear already?! Dear god! Remind me to never invite Ana out to a movie, because I can almost guarantee that we'll be late. And god help you if you make me late to a movie. I'll be waiting out in the car, beeping the horn, and she's still be establishing a psychic link with her closet. What if her mood schedule changes? Oh, well, that means we have to start all over again, from the beginning. Some would argue, Ana, that if you really want to be one with the natural world (the very generic natural world in this case), you should just go around naked. If you had come to this decision years ago, you could have spared us this poem entirely. At least she's confident that she looks good wearing all these colors. I never see anyone wearing yellow (and for good reason). I cry foul at her imitating the sun and warming herself under its rays. I would like to think that she's radioactive - so heat actual eminates from her body. She can toast bread with her thighs.

There was a TV commercial a while back where a black woman read a generically pretentious inspirational poem to an audience (I think it ended with "Free....(dramatic pause)...to be me."). It was a liberated-women poetry slam as seen by ad executives. It was a toothpaste commercial. It made me ill. The second stanza reminds me of that ad. It's just so goddamn cheery! Her perkiness makes me want to throw rocks at her car. "Life is wonderful!" Ana is saying -- hell, she's screaming it at us as she drives a truck toward us at 70 mph. "Ain't life grand? I have the bestest wardrobe of anybody! Bow down before me!" This poem has that exclaimation point at the end, which I hate. I hate exclaimation points anyway. I use them on the ABPJ a lot, because I'm often pissed off, but I try to avoid them. You should only use an "!" when it's totally necessary. RIGHT: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep, / And miles to go before I sleep." WRONG: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep, / And miles to go before I sleep!!"

"Private realm" calls to mind an out-of-the-way store that sells oils and special toys. And there's some sort of hanky panky going on in the bedroom in this poem. There must be some reason she's wearing passion-hot red on the first day and (virginal?) white in her bedroom on the next. I would think it would be the other way around. "I will wear white, the sum total of color" -- no it's not! Everyone above the age of 3 knows that when you combine all the colors together (thinking you'll get a rainbow effect), you get a disgusting murky brown. Red = passion. Green = hope. Yellow = jaundice. Oh, and dreams. I think. Or does blue equal dreams?

If there are sexual undertones (I'm not sure at all) where's the sexual partner? Where's the person she's planning to boink? Maybe she's planning to go solo. If not sex, what's so special about this goddamned bedroom? Why is it the place where the universe converges? Oh, let me guess, you painted it blue with puffy white clouds. I am of the belief that ones bedroom serves as a place to have sex and a place to sleep (in that order). I would argue that those two are the most common uses for a bedroom. A bedroom is NOT a place to make an artistic statement (unless you're making an artistic statement during sex.) This may be just wishful thinking on my part. This could just be Ana finding herself, in touch with her soul, blah de-blah blah blither blah blah. But I can hope that she's planning on having sex, right? Surely you'll allow me that. C'mon!

Bad Poetry Grade [F = your standard bad poem; A+ = worst poem imaginable]: B

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