A Very Red Poem

Some time ago, a friend challenged me to write a “red” poem.  I had a good time with it, and this was the result.


All dolled up in a ruby dress,
her fractured heart beating outside
her chest, she’s a living,
breathing Frida Kahlo painting.

She slips into scarlet espadrilles
and dances a bloody tango,
her lipsticked mouth puckering as if
she’s just eaten something tart.

Or wants to. Her henna hair is waving
like an SOS all over this dance hall.
God, it’s flaming hot in here.
Someone call the police, the fire department!

Don’t bother, she shrugs, feeling for a fever.
Just come closer.  Pass me that cherry cola.
I’ll be your siren, your fire alarm,
your train track beacon,
your own personal red phone.

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5 Responses to A Very Red Poem

  1. etrnlronin says:

    Karen, the imagery is stark and exciting, the tempo smooth and as perfected as a symphony by Mozart. Bravo.

  2. Wow, the imagery is incredible. Nice write.

  3. brian miller says:

    well there is a little bit of heat going on in this one…ha…i like it…you dance it well in your words…and make it easy to visualize…

  4. Ravenblack says:

    Wonderful. I could see it all, the different reds. Great movement in the scene too. Cheers to you!

  5. Positively scarlet! You’ve inspired me to try a colour poem… thank you! 🙂

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