The Purple Man

I was sitting in a room of people,
when the Purple Man walked in.
Just another to all else,
but different when I saw him.

His appearance in such a place,
was a small shock to me.
Never before in this room,
had I seen one such as he.

At first sight he began,
to truly intrigue my mind.
And began my desire to search his head,
to see what I could find.

My desire was subtle,
hence my approach indirect.
From what he said to some others,
I felt we might connect.

I entered the conversation carefully,
a question here and there.
As time continued to pass on,
I approached further if I dared.

I found that we had much in common,
much to my surprise.
He held little of himself,
beneath a hidden guise.

As time yet further passed,
we spoke one on one.
We spoke of music, art,
and things that we had done.

He continued into the poetic,
and truly began to inspire.
I listened to his purple prose,
and of it never tired.

A subtle change took in my mind,
took a slightly purple tone.
I began to see things more beautifully,
and speak prose of my own.

He created something in me,
but of this he did not know.
When he saw the unknown results,
admiration he did show.

Like a teacher learning from a student,
he accepted my words with pleasure.
And that from an inspiration,
was something of a treasure.

Our time drew slowly to a close,
and so much I did find.
I walked away quite new,
with my purple-tinted mind.

I wonder if in the future,
I will see again.
The intrigue and admiration,
of the Purple Man.

He entered into our high school as a senior when I was a grade below, and we had an art class together.

His dark purple hair and his earring created a slight buzz in that overly-countrified (in my opinion) school, and that was cool.

One day he read some of his own poetry aloud, in class, and I was inspired.
Long story short, he's pretty much the only reason I started writing poetry.

Once, I asked if I could come to his apartment to have him read my work, and he said yes.
I was surprised.
He had a little text poster titled, Are You A Purple Person?"  It was his favorite color.

This poem is for Steven Kubic, wherever you are.
Thanx, man.