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you can see right through me
like cobalt colored glass
the walls that i put up
you tear them down as fast
breaking up into
a thousand pieces tinted blue
the shards all cut through me
as they fall away from you
with just a single a word
with just one little breath
my heart swells and explodes
and dies a hundred tiny deaths
you can take all of the pieces
and store them in a jar
made of cobalt colored glass
to disguise just what they are
then scatter the debris
somewhere far away at sea
and give me the new heart
that you have sculpted just for me
and with a single word
and with one breath so small
you can bring me back to life
and i will put up no more walls |
By willie smith |
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ELEMENTAL MY DEAR WATSON
The color of cobalt kissed the sky
As helium lifted her thoughts.
The mercury in her teeth sat by
And flouride was all for naught.
The copper in pennies is but a myth,
And gold on her fingers is rare.
With lead in her pants such a chore to deal with,
She combed back her silver-streaked hair.
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By sharon |
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27 oh 27,
to look to you
is to look to heaven.
For you are blue
and the sky is to,
what would we do
without you.
For you kill people.
For you make them sad.
But for others surely
you make them glad.
For the color you gleam
so proud and supreme,
that cobalt color
for you and for me.
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By Cameron Killinsworth |
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Cobalt, Cobalt
Cobalt, cobalt, burning bright,
You emit a clear blue light,
What magnetic metal dye,
could match thy awesome point Curie?
In what distant new years' skies,
burnt the blue without thine dyes?
And which alloy stands the fire?
Other carbides just aspire.
And what growth rate, from the start,
Works if you do not take part?
Lacking in B12 to eat,
Who can think, or move his feet?
You're in hammers, and in the chain,
For the furnace, you're a gain.
And the anvil, that we grasp,
You are even in the clasp.
How did T'ang paint china wares?
Which metal soothes Egyptian fears?
Twenty-seven willst thou be,
your ion valence, two or three.
Cobalt, cobalt, burning bright,
You emit a clear blue light,
What magnetic metal dye,
could match thy awesome point Curie? |
By Svein Olav Nyberg |
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Blue is white. A pinch of cobalt turns
the weave of yellow fiberglass to snow
like veins in pallid wrists. No one discerns
the brittle gleam of blue too far below
the shiny surface. Skin is almost glass:
too blue, too pretty, and the surface cracks
with ice or brittle chemistry. We're past
the days of arsenic or lead; our tracks
lead off to melanoma from the sun
that makes us brown. And still the gasps of blue
depleted veins scream out for oxygen,
and still the pretty fibers break in two
so glass can pierce the skin and welcome red,
that in its turn can turn us blue and dead. |
By Julie Carter |
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