Best Blues Poems


Premium Member Winter Blues - I Cry For Color

I shiver tears.
My joie de vivre;
summer esprit’s lemon zest,
lilac flirts and coral whispers 
have escaped me ~
grievous gray 
now flows through my veins.

I shiver melancholia, 
entombed with my winter blues
in the dark dreamless hollow 
of my frowning igloo.
Draped in decor of dispirited drear
I wear a wistful woebegone fog,
an overcoat of overcast moods.
I weep wall to wall
in the listless light-less nights 
alone with my lonely longings—
my psyche withers
like a frost-stunned leaf;
I shrivel 
a little more each dull day.

I shiver sadness. 
My colorless tears 
cry out loud for color!
I yearn for watermelon sunsets
pink sands and tiki cocktails swirled 
with swizzle stick glee. 
I wish for rainbows to color 
my lackluster laughter
and crave for fireworks to celebrate 
in my mirthless eyes—
restless for Sol’s warm hands 
to tenderly undress and caress me
and lay bare my soul 
straitjacketed by winter blues.

Premium Member Poetry In Poetry a Duet of Lonely Blues

Poetry

Is not the poem
Is not the poet

Is the observations
Is the emotions

Is the diversity. entwined
Opposing views always sought

Is the love
Is the hate

Is the sadness
Of losing to fate

Is the laughter
Of a child’s dreams

Is the love
That is sometimes unseen

Except by the poet
Who in his lonely sadness sees

The beauty of all
That surrounds the depression in he



In Poetry

I died
Long ago

My heart something broke
I became cold

I cried
For childhood days gone by

I died
A million ways

Now I write
From down below

Where darkness is the sea
That I sail in eternity

Of in the distance
I heard the notes of a symphony

So now as I sleep
A thousand deaths

I hope
For that one musical note

To wake me up
Heart and soul

Premium Member Chainsaw Blues - Bawdy Limerick Lol

There was a lumberjack from Borehamwood 
A chainsaw mishap took off his manhood
His Love life now a mess 
And it caused him great stress
So he made himself one out of some wood .  
                         ~
He went to bed one night full of desire
Sue his wife put on her sexy attire 
Things got steamy and hot 
He gave it all he got  
But with passion and friction it caught fire . 




Written 5th March 2019.

For make me actually LOL 2 poetry contest 

Sponsored by Nina Parmenter.


Premium Member Misty Blues

 Oh, trees of once so forest green
now shrouded to me in pale hues
as my hearts reflection of blues
mirrors a lifeless figurine

Pray hide from me sunbursts of glow
for the sky is of mist alone
and where I roam as cold as stone
all thoughts run deep and overflow

Shadowy shaped vapours haunt me
with your gaze of cerulean blue
and if to feel your touch I drew
my hand that longed the touch of thee

All worn paths I fear now to tread
for there are haunting scents of you
that so relentlessly pursue
 a heart that’s already long dead 

 All alone as teardrops of blue
and misty, hazy dreams of you 
float away once more out of view 
forsaking what my heart once knew

Premium Member Winter Blues

Another year has come - chillingly -
and more chillingly for me than in decades heretofore.
I watch it ranting from my window as I recall. . . . 

The year already past had tugged me from those tame and toasty days
when I lay face up to sun
dreaming that my summer would never end.
It brought me to this winter when it withered up and died,
but half a century and more of memories
had fallen for me by now.
Like pretty crystal flakes they fell, drifting through my mind -
places, events and people.

Oh, those people I looked up to in my youth -
fallen as the snow!
How many pretty snow flakes have melted now away?
Only my memories of them remain. . . 
memories now piled up like snowdrifts in my brain.

Yes, the newborn year has arrived.
Just one month old and already, it has lost its crawl.
This infant’s aging process parallels, on the larger scale,
that fleeting span of time known as life -
a time that all the living undergo.

The new year carries on (as must we all) to soon complete its cycle.
Let it bluster. Let it wail. Let it rattle at my door,
for soon enough, all signs of it will cease.


Written 2/12/11
Now used for 'A STRAND (1061)' Poetry Contest

Sunsets In the Blues

.He walked in silence

to the corner of my heart

He lit a candle~ fire

in a room once damp and dark

His words were gently spoken

His love was loud and clear

His arms were unexpected

A fearless Chevalier

My strength was getting weaker

My pulse~rate running low

He sheltered my emotions

and fortified his soul

He helped me win the battle

against solitude's blade

His kiss bestowed upon me

 His palm upon my faith

A faith of a new promise

on paths of pastel hues

Of jasmine scents and marigolds

Of Sunsets in the blues.


Yet Not Broken By the Blues

....in retrospect
There were mirrors  there
Behind it, where all the Jews would hide
How can someone blame the black despair?
All You were, was a mirror over there
Flooding naked imagery
Flowing naked mercury
Proof there were no fa-ked lies
Unless words were pressed against the frame
Somehow you couldnt recognise...
 your name...
Half blinded..
Besides, you would deny it anyway

One day while searching for those wandering Jews
Purple flowers in my garden winked at me
" we are they, if so you choose"
The mirror held was upside down
(It never mattered anyway)
So I kept on walking on and on 
Until this very day

Ive heard it said just the other day
They used  it to flash the sun
Hoping it would shine away
As some were hiding in its shade
A million miles away
Behind that fragile pane of glass
The looking glass kept looking past
And  keeps looking for today

Looking at the torn disguise
And the lying enemy eyes
Though their lips were moist with movement
As yet the sound remained unheard
The spoken word was truth
One day it all may come to you
Whispered by a little bird

Ive held so high your high regard
And so your high esteem
Your badge of broken Jew
And friends by lives devided seen
I tried imagining I was you
Walking, standing in your wretched shoes
To us were done similar things
They also covered up the truth
In fact its happening here and now
How much cover do they need?

In honour tried to imitate , sometimes even emulate
Your cheeky contraband
Conducting your own orchestra
While playing your own band

This mirror holding up I see
If I was ever to wear those clothes
Emblazoned by a David star
Embattled with a Jewish scar
I wish to have your nose
The link between us circumcised
A covenant yet not broken
A people not yet broken by the blues
My love was found
Intact profound
In around 
the nation of the Jew

Premium Member Winter Walking Blues

To Daddy, Mama, Billy-Bro, Punky and Massachusetts....


Glazed, deep snow, virgin crunched under my aimless walk
as I idle rambled onward through a vacant, bare-treed park.
Sun was so high that its brightness flashed sparkling pastels.
Fleeting blue spots danced randomly and surrounded me
with images of us until old tears appeared and newly swelled.

In and out, snow to house, young you and me in tender years
of igloos, snowmen, skating, snow ball laughing and fighting,
in animal mittens Mama knitted and snow suits tightly snug.
On some far stage, I feel sure we are still close and at play,
but today I have no smile to curl, just winter’s bleak weight
from tons of missing and reminiscing for my ill, lost brother.

Climbing a hill covered in deep snow reminded me how thick
my own thoughts were sadness bogged, of love now long gone
that was once joyously caught and I swear that hill mocked me.
My legs moved on their own accord as memories of other hills
caught my heart and held it painfully, eloquently still-scored.

Looking up as though Daddy could see me, remember with me
the hand holding and hill rolling he showed me decades ago
as his delight from falling snow created and molded my own.
Years later it was my son’s hand he held, watching icicles melt
while from a distance I watched their silence spill laughter
and their sled fly hills, growing a bond now many winters gone.

At hills peak, I felt my aches that winter etched as pains’ crafter.
Memories where finality marks each season, hurt me most of all.

The Blues Released

"The Blues Released"



Black velvet 
sits between 
what is read 
yet unseen
crushing sullen passion
across ripe crimson lips
holding tight those
dancing fingers 
seduced
gliding across 
the Player’s 
pristine alabaster 
piano keys

burning 
the bluest blue 

release

(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)





"Black Velvet" / Alannah Myles
https://youtu.be/ZHHEmd5mECY





“Pianos, unlike people, 
sing when you give them 
your every growl.
They know how to dive 
into the pit of your stomach 
and harmonize with your roars 
when you’ve split yourself open.

And when they see you, 
guts shining, brain pulsing, 
heart right there exposed 
in a rhythm that beats 
need need, 
need need, 
need need, 
pianos do not run. 
And so she plays.”




“When you play, never mind who listens to you.”
















LYRICS/ "Black Velvet", Alannah Myles
https://genius.com/Alannah-myles-black-velvet-lyrics

Bedlam Blues

Cain killed Abel on a Monday night 
Abel didn’t get a chance to put up much of a fight
Cain said, “am I my brother’s keeper?” God said, “yeah,” but Cain said, “nah”
Adam just shook his head and rubbed his jaw

And Adam said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well Abel lived in it too

Orestes killed his mama on a Friday night, 
‘Cause his mama killed his daddy, not the world’s best wife
Orestes pleaded his case that what he did was really good
The Fates said, “what the heck is wrong with this dude?”

But Athena said, 
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," his mama lived in it too

Genghis Khan burned a village on a Wednesday night
The villagers begged him to put out that light
But Genghis was busy fighting and conquering the land
He had a vision for the world that they just couldn't understand

And his army said, 
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," those people lived in it too

Jack the Ripper killed some women on a Saturday night
With a couple of slashes from his handy knife
The world got around through the city of London
But everyone said, “didn’t those women kinda, have it coming?”

And the people said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well those women lived in it too

Mark David Chapman killed John Lennon on a Sunday night
After reading the book Catcher in the Rye
He saw what was wrong with the world, too many phonies parading around
And someone oughta put 'em all into the ground

And the papers said, 
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well John Lennon lived in it too

Self Inflicted Blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.

Premium Member Muse Blues

I got the Muse Blues
Where did my muse go
I got the muse blues
Tell me where did my muse go
Maybe down 'n Louisiana
Hangin' out with my friend Flo

I got the Muse Blues
My heart in a rage
I got the muse blues
My heart in a rage
Sayin' if muse try to act like Flo
Well He's gonna be upstaged

I got the muse blues
He's back but kinda sick
I got the muse blues
He's back but kinda sick
He tried to dance with Flo
And got his old butt kicked

I got some muse queues
If muse ever leaves again
I got some muse queues
If muse ever leaves again
Steer clear of Louisiana
And my pinnacle poetess friend




Protected by a pet Cheetah

Black-Water Blues

Diz Cajonne dey call Thibodaux
Paddle dis girl in his Pirogue
Den he see dem unmention
Dad tool stan at attention
She slap him stick HARD doncha' know

Dad pole shrink awful fas he yell whoa!
Sha, whad did you swat dad ting fo?
Now it at parade rest
Like diz bird in a nest
She-say-"I-scared-a'-dem-SNAKE-buddy-ohh!"

PD's contest

JUST A GUY WITH THE BLUES

[Verse 1]
Hello, sweet brown-eyed girl
I'm just a guy with the midnight blues
Tryin’ to play it cool, but truth be told
I'm already lost in you

You gave the softest little smile
And I was halfway ‘cross the floor
Had a line in mind, a drink and some time
Maybe walk you out that door

[Chorus]
But girl, you lit up like the sun
Hit me with a look I couldn’t outrun
All my life, I’ve dreamed of this
Was countin’ down to our first kiss… tonight

[Verse 2]
That’s when he walked on by
With that easy charm and confident stride
You turned to him like a song you knew
And I felt the light leave the room

[Chorus 2]
Yeah, those sweet brown eyes
Never even caught these blues
It was just a dream, just a dance in my mind
A love I never got to lose

You smiled like I wasn’t even there
Guess hearts don’t always get to choose
So I’ll be walkin’ home alone tonight
Just a guy with the blues

[Bridge]
Maybe in another life
You’d look up and I’d be right
But fate’s a quiet kind of thief
And hope don’t always stay the night

[Final Chorus]
Now those brown eyes shine for someone new
And I fade back into the view
It’s me and this neon sky
Singin’ truths I can’t deny

Yeah, I’m just a guy with the blues
Still crazy… behind these blues

[Outro]
Just a guy...
With the blues
© Lyric Man  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Winter Blues

The Winter Blues
Robert J. Lindley 

Winter blew in with a scant little whimper 
Fall skulked away with hardly a peep 
Deep cold, blowing winds fit some's temper 
Yet others they sadden enough to weep! 

Snow brings its beauty and shining charms 
Frigid air sets furry critters about 
Blizzards blasting forth set great alarms 
Where frozen forested cries ring out. 

Nature knows best and gives as she pleases 
Hardest season sets the coming stage 
Death and pain, of which Spring then eases 
Time for each, says the wizened sage! 

Cold chills, hang glisten silent through the night 
Decembers solstice sets the stage northbound 
Jack Frost pretends to be Earth's white knight 
Dark days of winter winds; ice-kiss the ground 

Autumn renews chilling barren vows, 
Wonderland enables the sun on numb 
Icicles form, a voice shared -leaving nature roused 
Winter's blue melodies washed down with rum 

A cold peril storm, enjoying the winter sky 
Frostbitten dawn, desolate sunset of worthlessness 
A leafless desire to intensify nature's supply 
Loss from exposed skin, of hopelessness 
*** 
Snow, Sleet, and hell; patients needing detox 
Atlas Spring gives way to the Viral Equinox 

(Robert Lindley and Poet Destroyer co-write) 

~ ~ A Poet Destroyer Collaboration ~ ~
----------------------------------------------------

Contest: Collaboration Celebration- subject- Winter Reflections. 
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A

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