Best Lifeblue Poems
Sometimes
life should be about
nothing more than
swirly upside down rides
and blue cotton candy
for in the end
pasts can’t be taken back
only relived
and the truth is
I’d rather live
happily
with my blue tongue
than die
with the past’s
bitter taste
on my lips.
8-8-09
Like a bat sleeping
the cocoon gently hangs
upon the massive red oak’s arm.
Gently-
And ever so lightly—
it does shake…
Tiny, little,
streaming
cracks
dance along the little egg sack.
A wing of silent, starry blue protrudes
then another-
And now a leg-
And several more!
Beautifully blue the butterfly glistens.
Her wings flutter freely
Singing a note of life newly grown
And yet a tinge of melancholy
it seems she does echoe
of a life long ago.
To the skies she soars
In search of something more
A butterfly is born…
Keep it; leave it; don't stress about it.
Hold it close; adore it and raise it.
Abandon it; forget it was ever there.
Forget about:
Lacey, Tracey, Daisy
Or Patricia, Anisha, Alexa, Esmeralda,
Miguel or maybe even Shontell.
Hate yourself; love yourself.
Receive phone calls every month,
Or see their beautiful sea blue eyes every day.
You decide.
Love; Is what brought you here,
So why would he walk out if its positive? He should stay even if,
That blue strip turned negative.
Don't OVER populate,
But NEVER underestimate.
The power of the motion floating back and forth,
Like a boat in the ocean.
Heat of the moment,
Your body an mind are controlled by emotions.
This baby, will be yours,
Forever.
Whether you abandon it or cherish it.
For 9 months you waddle and grow with size,
Only wishing to see your damn thighs.
Its not what you thought.
Protection never fully protects when it becomes,
Well…
Useless in this matter.
This little boy, this little girl,
Is the best thing thats happened to you, No matter how you see it.
Pablo; Francisco; Bruno;
They could be your amigo.
Sally; Valarie; Natalie;
You could make these your tragedy,
Only if you walk away,
And let those hormones be.
The wind dances through the trees as I sit cozy in bed, kitten at my knees.
A cream-colored ball of fur, with a boldly striped tail,
(half raccoon, half Siamese, we like to tease).
Her eyes are ice-blue, an incredible hue,
dropped off at a kill-shelter at just four weeks old
(a half-breed, not fit to be sold), with a heart of pure gold.
The thistle feeder taps the pane as the wind begins to rise,
Gold finches hanging on for their lives,
an avian carnival ride.
White caps chase across the lake,
the water a deep blue brushed with quick-silver by some artist's hand,
racing toward land.
A stark branch shudders as a solitary leaf flutters, twisting and spinning.
I wonder when it will lose its grip and drift, wafting to the ground
without a sound, as gently as a feather, but brown as aged leather,
another victim of the weather.
I hunker down to see the sky, while the kitten's purr-box is set on "high,"
warm under my duvet, I begin to pray,
reflecting on the vast experiences of my life,
so filled with strife, a vast sea of tears through all those years.
Now life has shifted gears and I'm glad to be here,
in this squat little house on a prime piece of land,
the selfless love of a wonderful man,
his mother a gift from above, showing me, finally, a true mother's love,
And the children:
Kelly, the warrior, who must fight every day and learn every lesson the hardest way;
Zach, the scholar, so much like my father,
Baby-faced Ryan, raven hair and big blue eyes, our rock-star on the rise.
And for all this I thank God, for the serenity and peace,
(no matter how brief)
And then the twisting leaf finally lets go, fluttering past the window,
waving goodbye,
riding the north wind's sigh.
The Man on The Sidewalk
Rushed out by hurried passers into the mid-day sun,
I notice the bright blue sky over me; so blue indeed!
I turn the corner and notice a man lying down,
Huddled and wrapped in a soil torn blanket.
My heart is engulfed by a dark phantom cloud,
My mind fills with questions of whom, how, and why.
There's no hint of his past only a shadowed being,
Should I wake him? Only to find his old buried woes.
Is it too late to save even himself? Question haunts me.
bending over, I try to slip him some lunch money.
Someone in the crowd yells, 'He's a lost cause, sir',
Awaked the man opens his wide tired blue eyes,
Yet, they are as blue as the sky's and more so.
His long tangled beard reveals a kind smile,
I place the wrinkled dollars into his yellowed hand,
Smiling back,I walk away speechless.
Today an imperfect circle of a moon
Was visible in the bright sun
The monster size blue moon hung low in the sky
The clear, tranquil, sky blue
Illuminated by the warm, white, bright sunlight
Light of the Earth, placed for the day
Increasing the warmth of the windy, cold, day, to a tolerable extreme.
Extreme sports, like steel challenge matches
Performed in extreme cold or extreme heat, outdoors, year round
Lead fragments fly and rain down in the clear, tranquil, blue sky.
Extreme!!