Best Bluing Poems
Snowflakes adorn blurry morn, gently, gently trickling down
As salted streets are turning brown across this weary town
While tilting trees blow wheeze of breeze in throe of snow
In aerial dance of wintry woe, as tips of twigs sun rays glow.
Driving slowly, traffic is moving, blinkers brightly turning on
As somber day, bearing yawn, is awakening bleak and drawn
When kids thrilled, frolic and build, a snowman on their lawn
Celebrating school closings on this messy, dampened dawn.
Peering scenes tinted gold, hushed romantic gazes behold
Fixating on meadows bold, where pristine paintings unfold
Delighting in the glowing blaze that brightens daze of malaise
Appealing to zeal of morning, blushing haze in emergent rays.
A deer ambles besides her fawn, exiting her quiet hideout
Curious to scout how leisurely strollers are sauntering about,
Ruminating sunshine while darkened clouds are phasing out
As bluing skies, sparkle eyes, illuminating zest of astral clout.
Beyond foothills, tall cliffs sigh, scintillating in sapphire sky
When far from here, climbing up high, cerulean motifs vie
As cobalt imprints horizons amplify, where birds merrily fly
Announcing to the receding storm: it’s time to say goodbye.
When daylight quivers on melting mound of thawing ground
Amidst whispers swirling around, muffled wind’s hissing sound;
Golden glints thrill, glistening hill, tinting the landscapes blue
Refracting puddles in ornate view of glinted beams’ opal hue.
November 16, 2020
Poem of the day on November 18, 2020
Placed 1st: In rhymes sublime poetry contest--by Joseph May
Categories:
bluing, morning, nature, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
Few are charmed with albatross wings
to glide high above the toothy surf
to soothe the cliffs that yearn to sing
in granite tones of golden destiny.
Some are born with burning stumps,
prone to dream... never to shadow suns.
They cling to icy crags and siren tones,
stumbling on drunken cliffs above bloody shoals.
Others are born void of most everything...
say for pearled hearts and hungry beaks.
Gazing out toward indifferent skies,
awaiting silver miracles that drift on by...on by.
A few are never meant to breathe at all.
Briefly tumbling in the throat of violent squall.
wee flakes on glacial lakes of bluing memory
few are charmed with albatross wings.
Categories:
bluing, destiny,
Form:
Rhyme
Nocturnal dreams of midnight fantasies
neon flowers alongside scented lily pads
Rippling clouds, crossings on the moon
magnetic fields of bluing yes I see
Angels flying, flitting, round the globe
calling over stars to light the path
Magistrates of heaven glorious chants
soft and mellow pastel like the sea
Beatific vocals soft as voices of the earth
enigmatic secrets of a society un-known
Cooing doves fragrances of evening musk,
Divine Beings attired in Elysian clothes like Deity.
Categories:
bluing, appreciation, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
With every breath you take for as long as you live
for as long as you exist and have your being,
I will be by your side to guide and protect you
my child *
You are the reason for my bluing wings
for this Parson light that blew up the skies
only to dive in and save you from a pellucid night
my child *
I am here to remind you that your soul
has a destiny and a purpose in life
so don't get lost in the noise of this world
my child *
I LOVE YOU !
Categories:
bluing, angel, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
for George
"You always said you had little invisible friends,"
He wrote in a Christmas card one year, and Yes,
funny he would remember that. I called them Shovel,
Hoe, and BicaBacaBoca, all of indeterminate gender,
like Arial in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," beautiful
like that, and mysterious. Like the Bard, I now
consign them to the page. Reborn again.
My Navy hero, he sent us letters in brown V-
Mail folders, wartime paper and postage efficient,
and in one for our pianist stepmom, the lyrics
and music to "Lili Marlene." As for pin-ups,
he never owned up to Betty Grable's fabled legs,
her teasing over-the-shoulder glance, aimed toward
GI's everywhere, though there was the obligatory
tattoo he could never erase after sailor days, bluing
like Popeye's down the inside of his right arm.
Pacific time brought reward, some misfortune:
a bout with tuberculosis in Bizarte, Tunisia:
a year of recovery in a Naval hospital at home,
painting by the numbers, waiting out the time.
But, there was a hero's commendation from his
commanding officer for "aid in evacuation
of the wounded, and bringing the vessel into
port after torpedoing."
The ship, LST-3, earned two battle stars
for World War II service. Decommissioned
and struck from the Naval Register, it was sold
for scrapping, 10 September, 1947 - the year
I graduated from high school.
He was not sold for scrap metal, nor sustained
any. He came home to his sweetheart, and his kid
sister -- you know the one. That's her in a middle
row of the Ritz movie house, the one crying
while "Anchors Aweigh" plays after the War Bonds
trailer to the image of a warship, plunging
valiantly on a faraway sea
Categories:
bluing, family,
Form:
Free verse
Filtering clouds
of morning sleep
Misting,
parting,
hidden haze,
Wind from my passing walk
Blows bluing notes in the sky.
Categories:
bluing, spring,
Form:
Free verse
the fountain pen no liquid bluing
a blank piece of paper staring
poetry with no telling
the mind has all gone dry
important to write
poems I need
to create
to set
free.
©Holly P. Moore
December 2012
Categories:
bluing, introspection, lost,
Form:
Nonet
As she lays down her blue brush
in a blue-trimmed cream
dream stone basin
of darkening water rush
She realizes
inside voice has been thinking
about double negative paradox
as -x/-y
can't win pathology knots
Of way too much Patriarchal Capitalist
dogmatic Business As Usual,
monochromatic
monopolistic
monocultural
monotheistic
Describing just punishments
for being not enough
and prescribing her
hot BusyMess
is cruel
cold
calculating dismissal
disregard...
don't matter
Let her splatter!
while he eats
his white supremely whipped up cake
without kindness
without courage
without curiosity
without over-frosted happiness
Mindlessly unwoke
to future predative
desecration issues
promoting and marketing
trauma-inflation corporations
inviting frequent-flyer
evangelically missioned Narcissists
Who probably don't think much
of a universal peak salvation experience
yet do feel deeply united,
maybe even energetically synergetic,
about their own sacred memories
of EarthMother's original Win/Win
multi-colored co-invested
warm wet unconditionally cooperative
wombed sense receptive co-relationships
Through time's changing
hue and culture and cry
LeftBrain verbally emerging
too dominant
Thereby, curiosity remains difficult to contain
to deeply listen for feelings to explain
this sound and sight for blue brushes
tinting her slowly turning
now churning rushing water
going
bluing
flowing madly
then again sadly
back through paternalistic
capital growing
anthroprivileged time
Emerging blue
and grey
darkening ecocide
reaching for red
as dead.
Categories:
bluing, art, health, history, humanity,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
I stand on the deck
Silver shadow that I see
The beauty that paints
A magic, drawn down secrets
In the calm breeze of their soul
Smell the sea and feel
The bluing fragrance of wave
Enjoy its moment
The loveliness that they bring
Let your soul and spirit fly
Categories:
bluing, beauty, sea,
Form:
Tanka
Whirling by, munching away at the worn-garnet shingles, chopping trees with its transparent rope and hair-raising dynamism, and flushing your garish memories and spotless portraits down the toilet, sucking them away, fracturing and splintering your heart and soul, for they mean the world to you, they turn the lights on in your life.
Whirling by, facility and adroitness allow you to tiptoe across the stage, do fluent splits, and run the show, for you are conducting a harlequin infused performance and putting on a clinic, for your soul burns brighter, your eyes twinkle extra-scintillatingly, and your hair glows clearer than a luminescent firefly. Your twirling and twisting viciously, like a ballerina, you convey waves of happiness with your blinding smile.
Whirling by, your feelings have gone down the gutter, sank into the sticky, grungy mud, into a funereally gloomy cave infested by wolffish spiders. You are traipsing across an ice-bound lake, skating on an attenuated layer of frozen liquid, dereliction gripping you like the frost bluing your lips, for you are carelessly cracking the black ice, for you've been neglected by your closest peers and shunned by your insensitive parents, and you are just waiting to burst and fracture, for your a ticking time bomb, waiting to burst and explode, spray shrapnel around, slicing and dicing others that care deeply for you, for ending your life doesn't just close the blinds, barricade the doors, and stain the floors with blood for you, everyone who prays for your happiness also cries for your death, for a tsunami doesn't just affect the coastal city, it also affect millions of others that check the news and see the devastation that has been wrung.
Categories:
bluing, abuse, dance, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Lazily settling on wandering currents
bluing in moonshine
of colored water changes
she sifts between layers
longing for things crystal and bright
glitter for her hair
great clouds of hair
swaying to the rhythm of
her descent
deep
darker
invisible.
as though she never were
Categories:
bluing, imagination, sea,
Form:
Free verse
A long life can be a blessing tinged in blue
you may end up in a garish room
a narrow bed -a communal latrine
at the end of a one-candle hallway.
With very few friends left, if any
loves scattered about like gold flake in drought.
If they lived next door, they'd rarely visit anyhow...
The living do not fancy the foothills of death.
Every day the macabre weatherman bleats:
mind overcast with a 90% chance of sleet.
Once a week an angel may be your friend...
for a handsome fee.
Live long enough, inhale the bluing tomorrow
propped up in the straw chair of Van Gogh.
Categories:
bluing, abuse, age,
Form:
Free verse
Algo se esta tramando
There's trouble brewing
Goon of doom-Tornado
Bubblegum chewing
Children bluing
Wild World Swing
Zing!!!
Hi cuñado...
© rajat kanti chakrabarty
18 December 2014
Categories:
bluing, fun, funny,
Form:
Verse
Three misfits sought mischief along serenity shore
when a boatman slashed through the bluing mist
with driftwood oars honed by a river called Styx.
They were wild and naive and looked quite aghast
for boatmen usually gather the worn and the weak
but the misfits were young and strong as teak trees.
The boatman anchored a skull and clawed up the bank
three clocks ridden by ravens appeared in the sky
the misfits ran amok when their time finally arrived.
The boatman sat in a dark crag and fingered them near
the mischievous three pleaded in gossamer tongues
but death is beyond stone deaf and heard not a one.
The boatman did show his heart, but of Sulphur it smelled
gently placing each misfit in a boat made of flesh and bone
vultures hopped the damned in their new dead water home.
Categories:
bluing, adventure, death,
Form:
Rhyme
Lingering, ashes creep toward center,
bluing verge of desire,
frost ring edging smaller,
stoked on memory’s flower
of fractured heart wood kindling.
An aging reminiscence,
this fire I bow toward,
leaning closer inward,
wishing I could fall . . .
my flesh the keeper of the flame.
March 9, 2022
Title: Keeper of the Flame
Pick A Title, Vol 29 – Poetry Contest
Edward Ibeh, Sponsor
Categories:
bluing, betrayal, longing, lost love,
Form:
Free verse