Where Has the Color Gone? by Brooks Kohler (2012)

An individual reflects on losing their job.

 

 

There is no color now.

 

The sky above is no longer blue.

 

The grass has become an enemy.

 

The lawnmower is a gas guzzling monster that I still owe
payments on.

 

My truck is a red hunk of rust with wheels, and the oil leak
it has will get worse and destroy the earth, but what does it
matter?

 

There is no color now.

 

There has not been any color since last week.

 

I got the news while enjoying a hangover.

 

Rollo walked up, dragging on a cigarette, and handed it
over.

 

It trembled in his nerve damaged hand, and when I took it,
to read it, he took a long drag and said, “You’re not the
only one.”

 

I remember him saying it, but I do not remember hearing it.

 

It is as if the words themselves have been muted out, and I
am a deaf person who can only read lips.

 

The color is gone, and the sound is gone.

 

All that I can do now is try and remember.

 

Why

did

 

I

 

stay?

 

Why did I think things would get better?

 

Where did this dark cloud that has descended on the sun
come from?

 

Why is the sky no longer blue?

 

Where is the union boss?

 

Where is our hardhat savior now?

 

They say he has gone to the north and has promised to
return with jobs, but why do I know he will not?

 

Why do I know he will be pacified with flattery and
trinkets from pawnbrokers posing as leaders, enticing him
to stay and forget while we all try and hear his words from
a distance?

 

Where

 

are

 

the

 

words?

 

Where are the sounds?

 

What is this instant education, like instant tea, that I am

sipping?

 

Why do I dread the lawn?

 

Why do I loathe the mailbox?

 

Why am I beginning to think more and more like a
founding father and less and less like a following father?

 

I know life is happening.

 

I can see the shapes outside my window.

 

I can see the blurry images devoid of color.

 

I can smell the lawnmower engines roasting with gasoline
and fire, but I cannot hear them.

 

The colorless paper that Rollo handed to me has stole my
color and used it for an ember and left me with only my
thoughts and words of empty air.

 

Am I talking?

 

I must be.

 

My lips are moving, but is

 

sound

 

required

 

to

 

speak?

 

 

________________

 

　

This work [Where Has The Color Gone? by Brooks Kohler (2012)] is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/

　

You may share, copy, distribute, and transmit this work as long as you give the author credit and agree not to profit from this work without permission of the author or licensor.

 

Written and created in the United States of America.

 

© 2012 by Brooks Kohler. All rights reserved.

Reviews

[Zoey Ray]

Wow, this reminds me of the Christmas eve when I got the news that my cousin had died. I really enjoyed the poem, everyone goes through hard times, and during those times we sometimes find ourselves in shock of the things happening around us. I find it very relateable. Thank you for sharing.

[Brooks]

Thanks for reading the poem, and thanks for sharing your story about your cousin.

This poem just came out of me. I grew up in Southern Illinois, where there is a acute poverty and the loss of any job is devastating. I've traveled and lived in other places, but I have never lived or experienced a place where people are so desperate for jobs they will drive over a hundred miles to get one. I could have easily titled this poem, “Why do I stay?”

[Kelly Scheppers]

I worked at a music store for 6 years when we got word that we were closing. I was never more depressed in my whole life than I was, back then. Everything takes on a whole new perspective for you when the rug is pulled out from under your feet.

Nice writing though, and good to meet you!

[Brooks]

The rural town I grew up in had two major factories leave in the 1990s. A few years ago it lost its remaining large scale, private sector company, and last year the prison closed. Of course this leaves a vacuum. Where are the jobs?

This poem just came out of me. I'm glad I can share it. Thanks for reading it.

[Kelly Scheppers]

...you're welcomed, Brooks!

[Frieda P]

I like the reference to instant education, instant tea...too many good lines to quote...one suggestion, can you put all that gobbledegook at the end of the read, it's distracting to the reader, well it was for me anyway...great work.

[Brooks]

Thanks for the advice, and thanks for reading my work. That line you quoted was inspired by seeing friends go back to school while they search for work.

[Sami Khalil]

A splendid write...Thank you for sharing...:)

[Brooks]

Thanks, Sami. I appreciate it.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)

[Samuel Dickens]

I think the lyrics to that Who song was "Just another tricky day", but while reading this, I heard in the back of my head a slight but important change in wording.

[Samuel Dickens]

I think the lyrics to that Who song was "Just another tricky day", but while reading this, I heard in the back of my head a slight but important change in wording.

[Brooks]

Thanks for the comment, Samuel. I appreciate it. I consider myself more of a fiction writer than poet, but this poem just came out.

[Great Aunt Astri]

Oh dear. I think many of us have days like that. Your poem describes the feeling well. I like way you have formatted it, like a sinking stone!

[Brooks]

Glad you liked the formatting, and thanks for the comment. I really do appreciate it.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

The reality of it all starts to sink in...within the read of this verse...the color is gone for sure...no doubt in the lines...life is still moving and yet others are standing still...devoid of what they had before...and just waiting out the cycle...

[Brooks]

Thanks, Glen. We lost a major employer in our rural area. I just sat down and the poem came out.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

YOU'RE WELCOME...SAD TO HEAR THAT...WHEN PEOPLE DEPEND ON THEM FOR THEIR LIVELIHOOD...