Only Red Poems and The Desert

By Jean Edmunds

Only Red©

I can’t see anything in front of me,
Only red.
The rain clouds, the storms
Cannot hide or undertake
The dread I feel.
In and out it passes,
When it remains
No other color
I see instead,
Only red.
The clouds move in
Over the tide
As it rises and falls
With the moon’s ever changing phases.
I can’t help but wonder,
How to put asunder this surmounting,
Temporal feeling,
Waves bring what is desperately needed,
Healing, 
Day by day,
No longer fed,
Color begins to change,
Transform,
Unlike its original form,
Ever evolving,
Once what was dark is now lighter
Each day becomes brighter
Than what we see,
And what was said,
"Only red."
The hue surpasses and morphs
Into sister hues.
They sparkle and dance
And mingle and intertwine 
Amidst blue star-filled nights.
They sing and dance their way into my dreams,
Floral pinks create songs
I hide in my heart,
Revealing the frailty 
In the steadiness
I thought I found through this 
Crimson view.
It flows through me,
 It flows through you,
 Hidden by flesh,
The bags we carry around.
Keep it inside,
Where it cannot be found,
Has no need to be shed..
It always is,
And always will be..
only red.

Red Turning Solace: A Continuance©

The waves come
Wash all out,
Everything away from 
Lying at my feet.
I went down to the shore
Out to the moor
Early in the morn
As the sun began to turn up
The color pallete in the sky
In its rising up
Higher and higher
In the atmosphere.
Hues were strewn about
Swimming in the sky's
Endless ocean.
Temps were cool first
Now warming up,
As dark tones faded
Into sky blues
Natural tints as time passed
Pinks touched mangoes and oranges,
Danced with purples
As lavenders and periwinkles
Made a quiet entrance.
The night that ensued before
Made a vicious, rambunctious roar
Like a lion soon feebled from a battle
Almost finished, as the Reaper
Seemed to follow closely behind
But went away stealthily
Realizing it wasn't his day,
To take this soul away.
He faded into the red and blue,
Almost black night,
Waiting for the next victim
That might show up in his sight.
In the red I had seen,
As I walked about
Enraged,
That it matched the burgundies and 
Maroons that fought
Their way both into the night
Sky and out,
Like a lion inside its cage.
Those hues fought and fought,
Clawing their way desperately
Both to escape yet remain
In the twilight,
That had already turned to night.
I stayed up, I stayed out,
Long enough to almost hear the moon 
Whisper, call the reds home to make
More room for blues and violets.
It said goodnight to the sky as
The sun made its way through,
Gracefully shining,
Reflecting all its
Glorious hues,
Like a long train
Following the way,
A beautiful bride on
Her wedding day.
With her paint brush,
She draped her
Bridesmaids the clouds
With all peony pinks
And lilacs until noon.
I've seen my face,
After the waves
Finished their laps in the morning,
Kissing at my feet.
The angry night tide
Faded into peaceful, wading bliss
As the warm water washed away
All malice and grief.
Solace seemed to return,
After a night that seemed to burn
All the way through.
Time had passed like it
Always does.
No longer the feeling
Of death hung.
Joy was returning,
All I had been yearning for
Was found on the horizon,
In looking where the waters met the sky
At a single point,
And I sighed,
As my love came from behind
And held me.
I turned to look,
No one there,
I looked into the waters
And stared.
For the joy I had found
Was made perfectly clear,
In the one who I held dear.
It was and only could be..
For the returning joy I had found
Was in the very existence
Of me.

End to Red™: The Final Chapter:© 

I put an end to red,

And all the madness

That pursues it.

The long awaited hour

Has come.

The doom and gloom

That once sat high above

Loftily on a throne

Of malice and rage,

Have stepped to down

In chase of solace,

In chase of quiet.

The loudness that was

 At hand has fallen to

A deadening sound,

Only to the sound of

A pin drop.

The oceans crash in the

Silence, breaking it.

Wave upon wave,

They chase each other

In laps, in an attempt

Each one to reach the

Shore first, then the sky

At the horizon.

In the garden, I've come upon

The roses, and the lilies and

Peonies, as they've mingled

Together and talked at their

Garden party, like ladies at

Tea time.

"It's not so bad," the lily

Said to the rose.

"What?"

"That shade on you, so bold.

So powerful; you could take

On the world," brushing up

Against the flower warmly.

It seemed to speak these

Comforting words.

As the sun shone,

They all turned their

Faces toward it,

Each one of its kind.

They glimmered

And shined

In their own right.

The babe in me

Had grown to the

Fullest extent.

After these long

Nine months,

Of bearing the weight

Of this unborn child,

It was finally time

To labor in

Allowing her

To see the world.

We've talked and shared

Many conversations.

I'm sure she heard music

In her dreams

I'd play for her.

She's grown to maturity

And is ready to meet

Me in person.

What a dream!

Such an inspiration;

For she's my muse.

I named her suchlike.

The tiny hands of my soul

That paint my heart out,

That run ink onto paper,

That carves out images

Of want and need,

Of self preservation

Speaking out.

My amplifier,

She speaks thru

The shades that grace

Every facet of my life

Drawn out in abstracts

And surrealism

Heard in the tones

From my voice box.

They go back and forth

In communicating,

Color to unspoken word.

A sound to be heard,

Reckoning to follow.

Once what was deep

Is now hollow,

Waiting to be filled again,

To be inspired, touched again.

For she IS my muse.

Lightening strikes yet again,

Moment of inspiration,

Till the end of my days,

This dreary haze,

Death tried to take its toll,

From so long ago.

With a knife or pills.

I remained, yet still.

The angel of Death

Draped itself like a

Cloud, over the window

Of my life, my timeline.

I've now put it all behind..

I have called her "Muse,"

To inspire when death

Tried to take hold.

In the beginning and forevermore,

The name that rings true and bold,

For namesake, and from now on,

She will be called "Soul."

Red really has no end,

It cannot, it speaks out,

Speaks loud, this color

Does. It almost shouts,

Not out of anger,

But being proud,

From being un-dead,

And un-silenced.

No need for violence,

No need for recompense,

It goes, it gives generously,

Covered by flesh;

It fills other bags,

No need to be

Spent or shed.

Only one color

That fills us.

It is and always

Will be…

“The Desert”

"The Desert"

     It was hot and dry in the desert air.

"No good," I said to myself with a heavy 

sigh that followed.

     "Not good, at all."

     I kept turning the key over and over in 

the ignition. It just kept sputtering and 

spitting. 

    For one second, I presumed it was a 

shining light, a glimpse of hope. It just 

about seemed like I was ready to go, take 

off, maybe even like lightning. 

     All at once, all shut down. The bike 

seemed like it was coming back to life, like 

the living dead, but it just fell lifeless again.

"If I don't get out of here soon, I'm as good 

as dead."

     As I looked up, I could see vultures 

already circling overhead. They seemed to 

glare down at me, waiting, an impending 

doom I could not escape.

     Then, all of a sudden, I hear rumbling in 

the distance, what sounds like thunder, I 

look up. I could see afar off another bike, 

coming up the way to where I was. As he 

got closer he slowed down, coming to a 

complete stop.

     "You look like you could use some 

help," he said with a smile.

     "You don't know the half of it," I replied 

reluctantly.

     "Hop on!"

     I hopped on to the back of the bike, 

settled in and held on. As the engine 

revved up, I let out a big sigh of relief.

     "Not today," I thought. "Got another 

day."

    We rode down the road for about a few 

miles until we came to a highway. A little 

ways further we came to a rest stop.

     As we walked in the door, everything 

seemed to stop. All eyes were on us as we 

took seats at the bar.

     "A cold one, for both me and my friend," 

he motioned to the bartender. He walked 

over slowly, uncertain, eyeing us both up 

and down, as he slid the mugs on the 

counter down our way.

     "Lemme know if you need anything else 

guys!" He exclaimed as he walked away 

again slowly, slinging a dirty, torn rag over 

his left shoulder, tired, as if exhausted from 

the monotony of having worked there for 

too long.

     "You boys ain't from around here, are 

ya?!" The man sitting down next to us 

asked.

     "Well, my friend here was having a bit 

of trouble with his bike. I saw him as I was 

riding up and decided to help him out."

     The man sat down, stared, glared into 

his eyes, not moving an inch, then 

proceeded to move a little closer, inch by 

inch.

     "Whoa!" my friend exclaimed, "We don't 

want any trouble!"

     "Whether you want it or not man, you 

found it!" He yelled back.

     "I don't like the look in your eye!"

     He threw the stool down beside him, 

while the men behind him advanced 

towards us. We were surrounded. I turned 

to look where my ride was; he was 

nowhere to be found. The ring leader 

swung at me, I ducked. I tried to push

through them all, but without any luck. I 

was done for.

     All of a sudden, I look up and see this 

huge, monstrous shadow, a dark figure 

moving along the back wall. It seemed to 

be moving all on its own, its own entity, 

moving like a slick, black scorpion. Slowly 

the figure gradually continued to glide 

along the wall, stealthily. The crowd turned 

suddenly, seeing the colossal creature 

crawling along the wall, fearing the worst, 

then gasped, and finally quickly bolted out 

the door in tremendous fright.

     The figure stopped moving until I saw 

my friend appeared.

     "Wow, what a crowd, huh? Wonder 

what their deal was.." he pondered looking 

up at the full moon, gazing deeply into it 

now, as we stood outside now, curious as 

to where everyone had gone. The 

bartender was still inside, hiding behind 

the bar.

     "Hey, my friends and I are planning on 

hiking up a nearby mountain where I do 

alot of my work."

     "Sounds cool. What kind of work do you 

do?"

     "I'm a carpenter. I do handiwork here 

and there."

     "I might take you up on that offer one of 

these days," I responded.

     "Great, well we're planning on going up 

there next weekend, if you wanna join the 

group," he said with a smile.

     "I'll have to see what's up with my car; 

it's been in the shop since last Friday."

     "Aw, wow man."

     "Yeah, and now with the bike.."

     "Nah, I understand."

     He seemed to be disappointed at my 

remark, and the situation as a whole. He 

then proceeded to suck his teeth, wishing 

there was more he could do.

     I got on the back of the bike, got seated 

and we headed a few miles up the road 

from where the bar was. We stopped at a 

motel.

     "Here ya go, man."

      "No, I can't–"

     "It's fine," he said.

     As I walked past the front desk, up the 

stairs, I turned around as I stepped with  

one foot onto my floor. Room 233.

     He smiled and waved as he hopped on 

his bike.

     "Alright, man!" He exclaimed with the 

engine already revved up.

     "See ya around!" I waved back.

     I opened my room door, threw my 

wallet on the bed, with myself following 

behind. Upon the first bounce, I turned 

over and let out a big sigh of relief, yet also 

fatigue.

     I picked up my cell and called my 

girlfriend, who was on a flight the next day 

to pick me up. I messaged the carpenter 

and said I'd like to join in on their hike.

     "Better the mountains than the desert," 

I thought, as I closed my eyes and hoped 

to never, ever be stranded like that again, 

holding on for dear life while death glared 

at me through the eyes of those vultures 

and the men at the bar.

     "Another day," I thought. "Got another 

day."

     I turned the light over the nightstand off, 

rolled over one more time, and closed my 

eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep.

Words have always been Jean Edmonds’ playground, and she’s made a career out of crafting captivating stories, thought-provoking blog posts, and evocative poetry. Join her as you journey through the depths of imagination and emotion, one word at a time.