Purple
Every day the ground is purpling and donning deeper shades of green. I have a brother who went through a phase where if you asked him a question he didn’t care to answer, he’d blink slowly, smirk, and say, “purple.” I have a son who shares this gene, but his answer is always “Jeff”— the name of our dog, who romps ahead through purple and green, tastes the tops of flowers and the lush grass, wet from nighttime rain. I remind Jeff that he’ll likely barf. He gives his standard answer: a wagging tail. Is there something I keep repeating? Like green at the slightest provocation of warmth or rain? Like a name, like a tale, like grass in my throat?
Jeff, enjoying an indigestible second breakfast
The Prompt
When I began writing the above poem into the Notes app on my phone while walking with Jeff (this is how most of my poems begin), I had no idea where the opening line would take me. I started with colors—purple and green—and let them tell me where to go next.
If you’d like a prompt to play with today (remember, off-prompt poems are always welcome here, too), then pick a color, any color, and let it be your guide. You might want to walk through your home or office or yard, observing every instance of this color. You might want to sit and reflect on the memories and associations that are bound together with this particular hue. You might want to simply close your eyes, settle into darkness, and take note of what color appears inside of you. My poem ended up wrapping itself around two colors, and that is also totally fine. Grab the whole rainbow if you want! I look forward to reading your color-inspired poems . . . or whatever other poem you end up writing.
But wait, one more thing!
So I have this idea I want to pitch to all you lovely lyricists. I’m thinking it would be oodles of fun to play a game of telephone together. Here’s how it would work: I would write a poem and send it via DM or email to one of you. You would have a few days to write your own poem that contains at least one phrase, line, image, or distinctive word from my poem and send it back to me. I’d then forward that on to the next participant, who would write a poem containing a phrase/line/image/word from your poem, which would then be sent to the next participant, and so on, until we make it through the full list of poets. At that point, I’d share the entire collection (in order, giving credit to each poet unless someone prefers to remain anonymous) here on 100 Poems.
What do you think? Who wants to play?
One little logistical thing to ease your worries . . . if you opt to participate and it’s your turn, but I send you a poem at a horribly inconvenient time, and you can’t write a response poem within 2 or 3 days, don’t sweat it. You can always either bow out or let me know that you’d like to be bumped farther down the line.
If you’re interested in participating, you can let me know in the comments or via DM or by replying to this email!
Thank you for being my absolute favorite online community!
I'm not sure when I decided
my favourite colour was purple.
I think maybe I just felt
like I had to pick one,
and purple wasn't pink
like all the other girls,
and I wasn't pink
like all the other girls,
and the clumsy bruises
always covering my legs,
just another thing
highlighting my not-sameness,
were often purple.
.
I'm not sure at what point
the purple started to feel oppressive,
like I was being smothered by it,
like it was just another box
I had been forced into.
After a while, I tried to refine it
into a specific shade.
"I really love this purple,
just this one."
My favourite colour
became a purple
that was almost
not purple at all.
.
My husband's favourite
colour is purple, so when
we chose our wedding
colours they were
purple, with pops
of yellow and orange,
from wildflowers.
I think after the wedding,
I decided to let him have
all the purple. I wanted
the yellow and orange
of wildflowers,
of mustard and rust.
I wanted the green
of sage and moss,
the brown of clay
and fallen leaves,
the blue of the ocean
and forget-me-nots,
and, maybe,
even the pink
of the ballet shoes
I had always wanted to wear,
of the rose my mother
told me I was.
.
I wanted the rainbow
that I had stuffed
down inside of me.
I needed to see it,
to wrap myself in it,
to set it free.
I needed all of the colours
to blur and bleed together
until they were almost
unrecognizable,
until I could see that
they were all really
just reflections
of light, anyway,
just reflections
of stardust,
just reflections
of us, and we
are not solid, or
separate either.
.
My daughter wears a lot
of purple now. It is one
of her four favourite colours.
She has
four
favourite
colours.
When someone asks her
what her favourite colour is
she says, "yellow, and
dark blue, and
pink, and
purple."
.
She will never have to choose.
Y'all I am so f'ing angsty lately....forgive the melodrama!!
What will my world look like today?
Vibrant colors or shades of gray?
I cannot find an in between
The blandest grays and the most vivid greens.
Technicolor or black and white?
Brightest day or darkest night?
I'd love to find an even keel.
Whilst spinning on this color wheel.