Bluish Poems

From Colorful Day to Night

A beautiful, colorful day elicits fantasy,
beginning with a dawn of tangerine-hued sky.
Envisioning a monarch’s wings fluttering,
into the sky with poetry I fly.

Lovely mellow noon offers pink quince
blossoming beneath a sky clear blue.
I imagine strolling with my love along a lane.
Romance, along with nature, blooms anew.

Radiant sun tumbles unabashedly violet
into its deep, mirroring, rippling sea.
I picture myself as a purple starling.
Winging beyond the horizon, I flee.

Lucid moonlit night opens pensively
as if it were a muse in a robe of bluish-gray.
One of myriad stars I now become,
wishing from Dreamland never to stray.

Rainbow Hues

I’m ruby red for passion
Blue sapphire like the sky
Turquoise like the ocean
These gems I have inside

Bluish green in daytime
Purplish red at night
Alexandrite symphony
Reveals my inner light

An amethyst so peaceful 
It brings me inner calm
Aquamarine tranquility 
My soul sings along

Bloodstone for courage
Citrine golden hues
Diamond strength for purity
So many gems to choose

I was born from stardust
Gems of rainbow hues 
I suspect that probably 
you my friend, were too.

For Mystic Rose’s, “Spiritual Gem inside me Poetry Contest
July 3rd 2025

ink

Big leap from pencil
Exclamation marks
Scribbles and whorls
Paragraph writing
Not erasable

A cartoonist
Writer of prose
Middle school
Soiled fingers

Permanent
Poetry
Penmanship

Bluish
Tattoo

Ink

Indian Paintbrush

Indian Paintbrush
 Cinnabar to rum.
 Bluish to a pink rose.
 Curious toward a new path.
 Waltz through painted daffodils.
 Crystalline ruby sky.
 Scarlet blood red devine.
 Indian Paintbrush.
 Open fields, red sun.
 Thine crimson deep.
 Fall asleep, can’t speak.
 Mesmerized by reverence.
 Rows of labyrinth.

Lovely Little Blue Bird

“Wake to the chirping of birds, get elated by their songs, allow the music to settle in your heart and dismiss all defeatist thoughts. Instead of burrowing like a mole, fly high like a bird” ~ By Poet

Oh! Lovely little bird, soaring and swirling,
Sliding and sweeping, making the sky your pathway,
Possessing the poet’s soul, you make me cheerful, 
With songs mellifluous and melodious.

You dive and glide through cotton candy clouds,
With dizzy spells and a spirit so buoyant.
You roam and ride through air, trusting on your wings.
You are out on an odyssey to cross a thousand seas.

With black and beady eyes, you spot everything,
And watch the world from up above.
You wear a dazzling robe of vivid bluish hues.
You have rainbow pinions and a beak so sleek. 

You chirpy friend, as you sing in tuneful voice from above,
Your songs fall in my ears as midnight choir from afar.
As you warble in sweet rhythm and lovely cadence,
You tell me that sweet spring of beauty and bliss is here.

- Glimmering Stones In Moonlight -

    - Nature's treasures - 
      are worth more than money and gold in your pocket - 
                                                                quote by poet

    A light breeze, soft as a little cat's paw
    In the moonlight on the beach, quiet and calm
    a bluish light with hints of silver on the horizon
    The stars above, I’m lost in the beauty
    Waves touch the feet, erase the footprints

    A secluded gem, a sight to explore
    Of the thousands, wonderful treasures
    A secret paradise, so unique and peaceful
    Safely hidden between grain of sand
    Quartz stones that glitter in the moonlight

    Love to turn them over and over in my hands
    Provides a soothing and softening effect upon touch

Streets of Solitude

As threads of pale winter moonlight shine upon rippling puddles,
broken reflections stare back,
setting the scene
in lonesome streets of solitude.
A bitter, harsh wind blows in from the raging river.
Reality sets in
as goosebumps coat barren, gelid flesh,
exposing bluish, translucent veins.
Leaning against icy bricks,
my breath, like smoke, rises into the atmosphere.
Touching it with bare fingers,
I try to grab at the last semblance of warmth that reminds me,
whilst a biting silence overtakes the night.
Your voice still echoes in my mutilated ears,
replaying all my insecurities on repeat.
The darkness within could never be quelled—
this I warned you time and time again.
Save me from the flames, you tried,
but they have been licking at my soul
since I drew my first breath.
In every reincarnation, every lifetime,
I watched as it seeped into your heart,
washing away your light,
replacing hope with shame,
love mangled with hate,
until even the air around us became tainted.
Each touch more toxic than the last,
ripped apart by generational curses
placed upon my forehead at the altar of my birth.

- Moonstone -

                                               A glorious glow
                                        reminiscent of moonlight
                                             Translucent in wite
                                           bluish and shiny silver
                                   Special gloss and smooth texture

Moonstone Melodies

            A translucent bluish-white mineral with a mysterious sheen


I hear them rustling behind heaven's plisse,
fabric seersucker curtains, opaque but unlaced 
One breath and suddenly 
I'm a teleported being 
letting go of all faculties and senses; 
A prayer on the lips searching for everlasting hope.  

These precious substances of color and charm
both calm and confident, ignite the soul    
and usher it to peace, love, and harmony.  
 
Filled with Goddess energy
exuding warm tones of luminescent, ephemeral light 
the hand receives what the eyes have encased 
lost inside clairaudient auditory movements  
Moonstone Melodies; 

Yokiko reveries fill me like no other  
listen to the sound they make
Angels dressed in crinoline gowns, 
swooshing and spreading light
everywhere...
Lost in their chime like sound of tinkling glass  
they are un-comparable, 
A thousand stars of heaven could never compare 
to these moonstone gems, 
who seem to claim the heart bit by bit
and then, all at once.

Under The Stars

In a trance 
Focused 
Memorized 
In a state of flow 

All alone outside in the forest, the beautiful lush green forest 
Full of trees, like evergreens 
And full of wildlife, like dainty deer

In a sparkly purple bluish dress 
And with long beautiful blond hair flowing down 
Is the Starlight Fairy

Like the magic 
The Starlight Fairy 
Dances under the twinkling stars 
Attracting Butterflies fluttering all around her 

It’s a special time to have 
A moment to treasure forever and ever 
For the Starlight Fairy

The Chair

In his old leather chair
he sits and blinks his eyes
the off white sits on his hair
like dust upon the mantle.

A murky sea of bluish grey
where smoking gave him cataracts
but they still burn of yesterday
the tobacco stains sit deep inside.

As he sits in his old leather chair
his eyes do blink and dart to catch
his arms sit closer than days gone by
holding close what was once there. 

His words are lost ghosts of the night
his world has gone out with the wind
though the photograph she wore so well
the negative still burns a flame within

and though the light will bow and dim
to him his only company
the worn out arms no longer care 
the weight lifts slowly from his chair.

The Cherishing

If we leave, 
we in turn will be left behind.
Some call it growth
some call it the karmic path of life.

We used to care for our elders
now there quickly tossed aside
to live alone in bluish silence
or with indifference by their side.

They have a million stories and lessons
behind those opaque eyes...
nobody cared enough to cherish wisdom
so, it was buried by winters' tide.

If we leave, 
we in turn will be left behind.

no bombs here

No bombs here

I walked ashore in Nagasaki 
traces of the bomb had gone
the dead buried
the maimed packed away 
no one wanted to talk about
the bomb
Nagasaki had many shops 
I bought a kimono made of silk
the beautiful shop assistant
didn't know about The bomb
she giggled and covered her
lovely hands, she found me
amusing  
Hiroshima, the world knows 
about, we have seen the pictures
Nagasaki, overlooked 
I looked for a key ring, to find
a symbol of the past, say, 
A golden bomb on a bluish sky
found none, but bought 
a key holder with a green 
stone, no, not a diamond
I bought a tiny radio also 
from a shop where they 
said: we don't talk about the bomb

Cartwheels for Veronica

   Archie did cartwheels for Veronica
   Jughead even played his harmonica ~
     But Veronica’s Jewish
     Leaving two suitors bluish ~
   Steinberg made her latkes for Chanukah 



   _________________________________
   'Latkes' are potato pancakes, a traditional
    Chanukah treat.

When Silence Speaks

Today, the doorbell of my mental hideout rang.
It rang with a sound like twinkling waterfalls without the moisture,
And tweeted like a soft pillow from my 5-year-old camping nest.
The scorching glare of darkness crawled up the stairs and seeped
Past the crackling summer which was too cold for me.
It was a chill that was like purple and green and blue.
I went to a hut to produce my own perfume,
Scented with exhaustion and misery.
There is not much else I can add, the shelves are bare as if 
A theif came in and out and never came back.
When silence finally speaks, it’s time I fall back into my chair,
A long forgotten place of rest. It’s not really that sweet,
Not really like the sugar leaves stored deep down in my 
Bluish drawer.

• Short Bluish Poems
• Famous Bluish Poems
• Best Bluish Poems
• Read Bluish Poems
• Long Bluish Poems
• Bluish Quotes