Your Pink Camera (Draft 6)

Your Pink Camera (Draft 6)

Aftermath ( Your Pink Camera) (Draft 6)

Your missing Pink is a painful thing, dread
on a jagged edge —
too many days without you

You dressed in edgy pink like Dianthus
the sun dressed in angry red

In the pink of things
we had watched the sun rise,
swam in the rising tide of love
but omens turned us blue

What is there to do
when pink tides die out and
the blues come in

We thought all tides
smiled at us, and

We had heard
all the false alarms
so many years

Category three
was supposed
to be nothing.

We danced with
so many false alarms
when hype was in fashion

So we danced in so many storms,
and we loved to survive with a kiss, but

stormy Sandy days came just after merry us;
where things were washed away, seagulls cried
and I worried about you, ’cause

I gave you the pink camera you’d wanted, and
you said you’d visit the beach with it to
hear the seagulls cry blue
the ocean roar

Said you’d get batteries for it
after you got a cute pink computer

And everything about you
was so cute — I’d get you
a pink sky if you wanted it,
and pink shoes, and pink scarves,
and if I needed to
I’d paint the town pink
if that would be distinctly you

Oh pink, I miss you.

Stormy day floods on first floors,
things washed away, but
weren’t you on the fourth, or
did you go out

Don’t know
haven’t heard from you.
Did you get the batteries
and go into the storm surge?

Stormy days
things washed away
and I haven’t seen your pink
but I gave you the pink camera

In Hurricane days
things were washed away
seagulls cried blue
and videos were shown

Maybe it was you in the pink,
who took those anonymous pictures —
I haven’t heard

I miss your pink, had
missed you in the swirls

but, yeah, it’s your style —
you could have posted video P2012:
seagulls following your pink camera

Stormy days, dead things
washed away
seagulls cried blue

Bulldozers and sand walls would be
protection against the waves, but too late.
Did you get batteries and a pink dress?

Didn’t you say you’d visit the beach
to hear seagulls cry

Next time you see the seagulls
tell them I love them, ok?

— Douglas Gilbert

Your Pink Camera (Aftermath [Draft 5] )

Your Pink Camera (Aftermath [Draft 5])

Your missing Pink is a painful thing, dread
on a jagged edge —
too many days without you

You dressed in edgy pink like Dianthus
the sun dressed in angry red

In the pink of things
we had watched the sun rise,
swam in the rising tide of love
but omens turned us blue

What is there to do
when pink tides die out and
the blues come in

We thought all tides
smiled at us, and

We had heard
all the false alarms
so many years

Category three
was supposed
to be nothing.

We danced with
so many false alarms
when hype was in fashion

So we danced in so many storms,
and we loved to survive with a kiss, but

stormy Sandy days came just after merry us;
where things were washed away, seagulls cried
and I worried about you, ’cause

I gave you the pink camera you’d wanted, and
you said you’d visit the beach with it to
hear the seagulls cry blue
the ocean roar

Said you’d get batteries for it
after you got a cute pink computer.

Stormy day floods on first floors,
things washed away, but
weren’t you on the fourth, or
did you go out

Don’t know
haven’t heard from you.
Did you get the batteries
and go into the storm surge?

Stormy days
things washed away
and I haven’t seen your pink
but I gave you the pink camera

In Hurricane days
things were washed away
seagulls cried blue
and videos were shown

Maybe it was you in the pink,
who took those anonymous pictures —
I haven’t heard

I miss your pink, had
missed you in the swirls

but, yeah, it’s your style —
you could have posted video P2012:
seagulls following your pink camera

Stormy days, dead things
washed away
seagulls cried blue

Bulldozers and sand walls would be
protection against the waves, but too late.
Did you get batteries and a pink dress?

Didn’t you say you’d visit the beach
to hear seagulls cry

Next time you see the seagulls
tell them I love them, ok?

— Douglas Gilbert

Scream (Draft 1)

Scream (Draft 1)

I’m taking lessons
from my singing teacher
on how to scream gracefully, and
not hurt my voice, or
attract the police, because

I have a notion about
performance art

where I can sell my soul
to the highest bidder, but
not to the Devil

— Douglas Gilbert

Remembering Nothing (Draft 1)

Remembering Nothing (Draft 1)

I am so sorry to awake
to remember I’m nothing,
and know that dreams are impossible

The day drags on from
the cries of sunrise to
a sunset whose beauty
is empty without you

I don’t want to be awake
and don’t want to
fall asleep to nightmares

Basically I think I’m done
cooked with the wrong spices

As with the tides
I am in and out

And there is little time

I used to think
I had a scream

But now I know
I’m too gentle to live

— Douglas Gilbert

Your Pink Camera (Aftermath [Draft 4] )

Your Pink Camera (Aftermath [Draft 4])

In the pink of things
we watched the sun rise
and let it kiss the day
(us too)
a red blush

We thought all tides
smiled at us, and

We’d heard
all the false alarms
many years

Stormy Sandy days came just after us;
things were washed away
seagulls cried

Gave you a pink camera you’d wanted, and
you said you’d visit the beach to
hear the seagulls cry blue
the ocean roar

Said you’d get batteries for it
after you got a cute pink computer

Stormy day floods on first floors
things washed away, but
weren’t you on the fourth

Don’t know
haven’t heard from you.
Did you get the batteries
and go into the storm surge?

Stormy days
things washed away
and I haven’t seen your pink
but I gave you the pink camera

In Hurricane days
things were washed away
seagulls cried blue
and videos were shown

Maybe it was you in the pink,
who took those anonymous pictures —
I haven’t heard

I miss your pink, had
missed you in the swirls

but, yeah, it’s your style
you could have posted video P1748:
seagulls following your pink camera

Stormy days, dead
things washed away
seagulls cry blue

Bulldozers and sand walls
protection against the waves.
Did you get batteries and a pink dress?

Didn’t you say you’d visit the beach
to hear seagulls cry

Next time you see the seagulls
tell them I love them, ok?

— Douglas Gilbert

Ode to Sloopy (Draft 9)

Ode to Sloopy (Draft 9)

Oh my neighborhood is blessed,
so sweet the streets, but yet
I mourn where you were,

where I looked down the other road:
down and out town where I never
could seem to be for long
forlorn and never seeing
in your faithful path

the caresses paved on
bumpy roads, your skips

on tangled streets, without
any proper signs but caution.

And I could have loved you
so easily if you were in
my class at school, and
my illegal notes would have said

I am not fulfilled with
just my toys. Joyce dear dream,
with the pony tail and smile,
could you play with silly me like
you’ve always loved me
on the streets of true love.

Sometimes I think
you’ve known me

But now that
I’ve grown
now that I moan

can I give you my map
to find me, though there’ve
been so many years?

There’s a song and I say Hello

Joyce babe, oh
you’ve known the song so
don’t fall off the mountain;
hang on to an edge,
hang on to a love to be
that should have been.

Oh baby I don’t know why
your Daddy put you down
and why you stayed with cockroaches
in your sorry part of town

Oh baby, can you cross the border,
and don’t be down,
’cause there’d be no disorder
if you’d wait for me on the corner,
only wait for me where
we would have loved the sky
on a street of love, and where
we could have walked forever, but
now I’ll call you a cab into heaven

’cause I know there’s a cliff
where everyone dis’s you

But baby don’t fall;
I’ve got the rockin’ gear
and the pinions of a mountain climb

I know you’re on a cliff, but
hang on

I will hoist you up to God, and
maybe He will share you with me

because I want to save you, and
my rescue ropes are of joy. We will

cross the border
and climb a better mountain
beyond outrageous stones
those devils throw

How can they know
your kind heart
if they’d be mocking birds.

Let me sing to you of
sweet rescue, because
don’t we both need to
climb to a heaven we need
so desperately

I think we are good
to hang on for love

because never would I
want you to be anywhere
but on my street if
you love me, or

even if you don’t.

— Douglas Gilbert