Long Blue moon Poems
Long Blue moon Poems. Below are the most popular long Blue moon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blue moon poems by poem length and keyword.
if only I could show you what you mean to me
maybe your struggles would be bearable
sometimes kindness is all it takes
if only I could express what I feel for you
maybe your pain would be easier to tolerate
sometimes a simple smile is all it takes
if only I could tell you everything I feel inside
maybe your loneliness would vaporize
sometimes a friendly hug is all it takes
if only I could share all that’s in my heart
maybe your world would be a better place
sometimes a tender word is all it takes
if only I could write the poem of all poems
maybe your heartache would heal and mend
sometimes a warm kiss is all it takes
if only maybe sometimes under this rising blue moon ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
My title - the culmination of a recent ad on TV
from a company well-respected in my home town.
They offer a nonpareil chance for those who think "free".
I take issue, feel vouchsafed and venture to frown.
"No interest, No payments for twenty-four months"
Enjoy the wide-open window of opportunity.
A bit incredible which makes one suspicious at once
this sugary-sweet offering must have finer print to see.
It brings divinity to mind, remember that puffy treat
made of whipped egg whites and sugar, maybe pecans.
Unsubstantial candy, so-named to sound so sweet --
My advice, be sure you check out all the pros and cons.
"We don't want your money!" (at least for right now)
"Go buy a pony!" how whimsical does that sound?
Ponies need space, 1-2 acres at least and lots of chow;
or you can board them at costs which truly astound?
I've gone on long enough about commercial fare.
A rarity once in a blue moon, too good to be true;
hidden catches and scams are out there everywhere.
It's the teasing of viewers with proposals beaucoup.
Pleasure is Cherry Blossoms blooming as elegant fragrance drift through the air.
Anticipating the first cup of hot chocolate on a cold spring morning
Sitting on a Park Bench and watching the exuberance of dogs chasing frisbees.
Of a Summer gentle wind caressing your face and through your hair.
A blue moon lit night dancing in rhythm from the ripples of the ocean.
Pleasure is watching a baby laugh with delight as your face is smeared with cheese.
Pleasure is watching your child for the first time when they are smothered in mud with smiles.
It is curling up on the couch in your spouse’s arms with a lovely wine, low lights and a romantic movie.
To belly laugh until it hurts at a joke from your friend or a loved one was told.
Pleasure is to share golden moments in time, remembering the beautiful life you have together.
It is walking down memory lane with your parents as their life’s story unfolds.
It is smelling the drifting fragrance of a steak sizzling on the barbeque.
It is the complete euphoric feeling when your brother Jesus makes you whole again.
The old decrepit cemetery sits abandoned in the courtyard
Whistling tumbleweeds roll, moaning and groaning out of perimeter
Its an eternal hell hole for jackals, sorcerers, witches and daemons.
Damnation is born here and it hovers like a dark cloak over the county
"Abuse them no more, " said a voice over a toasted atmosphere,
but the Demon Head with 14 tails laughs and taunts,
while Witch Viadora sprinkles Sulphur on her broom and hovers over the air
Her red eyes flare as she shoots fired breath and un-casts a spell :
"arise, arise formidable frightful emissaries
into the decanter you all go without parries
its Halloween night and everyone marries
one child at at time, go scorch the scarries
You could hear the big creeks from hinges dried up, of long ago
as little feet scurried, dead people arose to purge the earth of covidian caca
there was laughter and candy once again, and grannies moussaka ;
The caretaker awakens with a yawn behind the cemetery shed and quickly got to his knees, removing the lead from the earth
Here where souls were once enslaved by fear, are now shedding a happy tear
Tonight the blue moon smiles, for its Halloween
and all the dangers are 10 ft under.
As I dusted off an old jazz LP
A musical genie appeared to me
With seven notes in his hand
And a wish for each one
So I wished to see some singers and bands
Then I traveled back in time
On a C note
To hear the great jazz bands of old
My first stop was with the Count
Count Basie caressed the piano
As the saxophone turned out gold
The bass guitar was strumming away
And I listened to Billie Holiday
As she sang 'Blue Moon'
I then hitched a ride on a D note
And that took me to see the Duke
As I watched him tickle the ivories
I was taken for a ride on the A train
Where I heard him play Moon River
I left the train on an E note
To see Ella Fitzgerald sing
I did not want to depart
Until she sang "Cry you out of my heart"
Then a G note took me away
So I could hear Nina Simone play
I still had a few notes to spare
As Nina sang "My baby don't care.......
Before I left, I wanted to see one last show
So the B note took me to see Louie Satchmo
With his trumpet blaring
To "When the saints go marching in"
It was a great musical affair
And I rode home on the melodic notes
of the great trumpeteer
I was murdered by car bomb ignited my face Peter Gargano and my imposter jay Townsend Johnson Henry embezzled my traumatic brain injury claim this freak of nature hacked into my accounts using fake IDENTITY she nearly destroyed my life while I was recovering received traumatic brain injury procedure she used my identity miles away threatening my life 49 thousand 47 thousand 48 thousand basically supporting an aging Ciro Gargano until Peter died of horrible blood bone cancer this left jay Townsend Johnson Henry obsessed with my identity several hitmen assassination attempts on my life I am blessed the attorney general offices exposed her identity fraud upon my life simply because I wore wires pregnant for the Fbi due to terror of an arson murder of 9 threats to frame me for 9 lives that perished in those fires I can’t fear your brutal corruption IDENTITY 9 lives torched sadly Peter tried to pay off corruption with my traumatic brain injury claim he ran out of time and died stop bullying stop Identity fraud stop burning people alive blue moon comes to mind 57B 55B 37B 34B B nice stop bullying stop intimidation bullying terrorist threats B nice stop burning people alive this way you don’t have to payoff corruption to threaten humanity
Lights flip on.
Flopping to the aeropress.
Measuring my morning cuppa
fresh coffee grinds,
stirred in my mind
with cream.
Filling pill boxes.
Reading poetry,
writing poetry,
as I glance up
every blue moon
to the patriot-dance
taking place
on my stone fireplace.
Passionate zing
of orange, yellow, blue bombs -
fireworks on the celestial ballroom floor.
Lustrous gowns of a grand finale
over the Big Apple -
the towers still
intact, still
have roots, still
watch over the night life.
Celebration in the harbor.
Lady Liberty still
stands, watching
the city folk glide
with their red and white
gowns o’er the sparkl’ing glass,
with sea worthy class.
Helicopters welcomed still;
no one’s afraid of the hereafter.
Nearby on slightly tinted-teal walls
a nod to Peter Max -
Lady Liberty touches her torch
onto a specific spot on the globe -
remembers the loss.
Clearing the fog with a cuppa joe.
Lights flip on and off.
We can never go back.
Stepping forward into the dark,
the moon shining at my feet,
hiding my distress at the past,
God guides my feet into the future.
6/24/2023
Night roses dipped in purkinje, tendencies of blue
lost inside this dream I urge the winds to carry me
onto the hammocks of the night where antic roses lie,
moonlit soaked and mulched aside a big blue moon ;
Festoons of flowers strung across the midnight sky
scented florette boutonnieres of Saints and Gods
Angel wraps and gauzy shawls caressing softly stars
lost in a shimmer high above the sea , I am nigh
In exploration I am closing in, onto sweet allay
loosening the strings of yearn for my turtle dove
here in home sweet heaven, timeless as a rune
soaked in purkinje, eternally making room.
You better jump in a save me or toss me a life boat
For I’m at an unfortunate depth and I cannot swim
And unexpectedly you have me confused with the other him
Don’t play me, don’t play me, don’t play me
Why don’t you let me in
Or I’ll sleep beneath the trees
In the lovely pines of sin
I’d tell you not to worry but
For fear that you probably won't
I've got my suitcase
From the Phoenix Underground to the Bemidji streets
From the Blue Moon Saloon to the empty seats of Coda
I’m back and forth against this wind
Walking shaded in the face of the sun
Ten minutes and I’m all done
Your Purgatory lies beneath me
And I’m not catholic
So until warm weather beseech me
So I’m tiptoeing on icees
JP sings and he techno’s
I fail to empty bottles or simply let go
Media masses murder for the public’s interest
She insist that I wear a girdle
When I’m jig-sawing or playing Tetris
Rain falls
Shame calls
Looks like we’ll drag Marla
Up and down the malls
Your purgatory lies beneath me
And I’m not catholic
So I’m tiptoeing on icees
Until warm weather beseech me
Lately the future’s freaked me out
I’m indoors, she’s beneath the clouds
I figure there’s no escaping this
Awkward ending that we so often miss
Days seem to swim through time
Better than I tread the rivers
A nickel, a silver, a pint, a pitcher
And there goes my liver
You better jump in a save me or toss me a life boat
For I’m at an unfortunate depth and I cannot swim
And unexpectedly you have me confused with the other him
Don’t play me, don’t play me, don’t play me
Boundless Blue
Born in a misty rainbow,
Blue slips out from her place
between her sisters Green and Violet,
painting the heavens azure,
covering the earth like the robe of Virgin Mary.
She floats into the ocean in a navy dress,
then waltzes on waves of the Danube.
Sailing the teal waters of alpine lakes,
she journeys to glaciers,
leaving her daiquiri-colored footprints on glacial ice,
taking some with her to cool the fires of Robert Frost.
She treads into meadows and gardens,
planting delphiniums, lupines, hydrangeas,
bluebells, and cornflowers to sprout in her wake,
with morning glories to climb fences.
People copy her free spirit,
painting their china in Delft and willow patterns,
sing “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Blue Velvet,”
“Blue Moon,” “Blue Hawaii,”
even play “Rhapsody in Blue” on their pianos,
blow their cobalt glass, dye their denims,
even their ice cream and candy.
They try to capture her lapis, turquoise, and royal sapphires,
pressing them into frames of silver and gold,
hanging them on chains.
She smiles at their craftsmanship,
then saunters down the path to the forest,
seeming to sway to her own swingy music.
With only her blue tick hound trotting beside her,
she picks wild blueberries, savoring the tart fruit
as its indigo juice runs down her fingers.
This poem was inspired by Meenakshi Raina's "Optimistic Orange". That poem is a great example of how fun it is to write about and personify a color. I encourage the rest of you to try it!
Contest: All Yours (May 5)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
5-5-21