Uncolor Your Hair (A Psalm of Fine)

I am a dragon, spun in a cavern, I am the shadow of mind. What is you want to, to make yourself stronger, you do as I say all the time. Be you young fellow, or girl shaped a Sybil, I speak what you should look, and it’s all in your mind. Still there comes a young knight this way. He’s poor fighting windmills, but in his own thoughts I have heard him say.

(Uncolor your hair)

Come step to a mirror, a solid reflection of those ghost of your body’s way. Can you scream louder, your looks come not prouder your hips need to learn how to sway. Here in this hallway, high walls that fall round you, your dragon says you have to play.

(Fine)

Make your eyes, look up at the pictures, lights that spin quicker, so it goes for that some fella, did you take your birth control oh my, dismay. Come this way wash your naked body in the river of grace, and don’t you cry, for this sweet spring of love it taste your life, and uncolor your hair, be anything in style, your soul can bare. A dragon does not play, he lets your soul fly, and eats all your conscience away, and snares all your promises, takes all your ego, he bends yourself over, and starves you of time and dear space.

(Uncolor your hair)

All the promises your mind could ever snare, a feminist of time but do you care. Fly into another place, break the sound of barrier space and uncolor, oh my love uncolor, your own hair, be the strange virgin that knows your place, uncolor all your hair.

(Fine)

Rapunzel come on down. She found her grief in color, spinning blonde oh turning colors of the day. Comes through a sharp blade, takes your strength away, and you in the twilight, while her naked body turns, and you so grey, why did you ever learn to color your hair to play. Oh my soul, I try to meet the strands of color, television runway yellow, is it all the dragon sends your way. Teeth so white, baring skin into the dark black light, you spin around into your place, what’s color bright has turned to gray, a simple word that would beg and say.

(Uncolor your hair)

Uncolor your hair, be the way I ask you, be not wild or strangely desperate, and know I always love you, in a simple way.

(Fine)

Comes a place, when life has surely bit you, took your body to a temple, that fades away. All skin and bone it surely drifts away. Uncolor your hair, be strength of what you want to know its lessons, that he wants you, to play. In all the lovely features of your face, my, my….Uncolor your hair. You my friend are beautiful, so full of what your made of, my, my….uncolor your hair.

(Uncolor your hair)

I am a sorceress, lit by an apple, I am a sweetener that ruins in my rhyme. What is you want to, to make yourself stronger, you do as I say all the time. Be you young fellow, or girl shaped a Sybil, I speak what you should look, and it’s all in your mind. Still there comes a young knight this way. He’s poor fighting windmills, but in his own thoughts I have heard him say.

(Fine)

Oh very young and very old, uncolor your hair, he hath made you fine, he hath made you fine! – 04.26.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל

Kiki Sang (She Just Wants to be thin)


All rights to photo to Debbysh at Deviant Art

She wasn’t an old man, a year ending in review, a staff carried, a cane, a tattered resolution not come true. She wasn’t a scorned bitch snarling at the door, talking of her anger a revelation underscored. What year was she then, this, that ended in pain, the one that started with promise, a thought, and a claim? Was it then, she was a baby, a chick, with a dream, that thought of the days ahead starting clean. Did she hear Kiki, hear what Kiki sang, when the previous year ended, no resolve, no gain. The day at an end, and she just wants to be thin.

In tides without moonlight, the ones moving fast, the dream that just happens, when the years closing fast. The promises of January, the ones without sin, still she’s a little uncertain, just wants to be thin. She still needs a reason, a thought that shows real, to leave all that history of food and the thrill. It could be this death now, this passing of year, will bring her a new time, a shattered mirror. Through monochrome speakers that lie shallow deep, still in the flood zone, Kiki’s voice leaks, and Kiki sang. Because it could still be better, “the dream she can’t show”*, the starving of selfdom, the losing of soul, and if next year’s better, then wonder it’ll be. December is ending and still she’s not free.

“There’s no easy way now, to learn how to fly”*, to bring in the New Year, and leave life behind. She see’s moving shadows obese and grotesque, waving and willing, to weigh than attack. What words in pure logic, that lie in her wounds, that tell her, to try again, the new year starts soon, and Kiki sang, “wasted, so wasted on the floor”*. The truth it resolves her to try just once more. So when this dear woman stands tall on the first, and stares at her waist line, deceived by her girth, she’ll promise earth’s models, the ones, she’s told win, she is just beginning, she just wants to be thin. – 12.29.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל

It is estimated that up to 4.2% of females will have Anorexia Nervosa during their lifetime. It is estimated that 4% of these Anorexia individuals will die from complications of the disease.

*Sugar on the Floor – Kiki Dee


Sugar on the Floor – Kiki Dee