The Squeeze

Here is your cube
of key privilege allowers,
You squeeze for results,
Just be kind with your powers,
A thumb on the yellow,
those in prison go free;
A smudge of the blue
buys you true sanity –
a calm far more peaceful
than the ultra-serene
have ever known prior…
But beware of the green,
for therein lies trappings
that entangle clocks,
that unleash our version
of Pandora’s box.
Hellscape so hideous
it can’t be undone,
an endless contagion
of life overrun,
flattened beyond
any real recognition,
aching anew
with unfettered affliction.
Of course, other combos
of colors and pressures
will change the results,
turn your blights into treasures.

The Squeeze

There’s no disrespect
in consulting the manual,
when so much depends
on more than red wheelbarrow.
But please understand
once you start in on squeezing,
there’s no turning back,
from this burden you’re seizing.
For many are the world’s
unsettled infractions
and not all will love
these empowered reactions.
Each questionable measure
soon releases a gel
of brightest magenta
to stain you, compel
you to be oh so careful
in how you employ it.
This world is your oyster,
try hard not to destroy it.