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.
It seems an eternity, waiting
for the cows to come home.
They never will, and so why
do I wait so long to take a hard look at myself?
Mirrored reflections caught in the bourbon glass,
fractured and foggy.
We drank more than our share last night,
and my memory fell down the stairs,
rolling with the bottles,
bruised,
yet always out of reach,
a blue moon waning in the distance.
The 1960s hover,
phantoms of a past we romanticize,
awaiting their return as if
a forgotten song might suddenly play,
but we can never go back,
to flower power,
to protests in the park,
to nights where anything seemed possible.
Lost in the haze of our youth.
I await their return other things,
like an old friend who swore to come back,
but never did.
Promises dissolving ithinvair,
like smoke rings we blew into the night sky.
And here I stand,
waiting,
for the cows that never come home,
for the past that never repeats,
for the moment I finally look,
deep into my own eyes,
and see not what was,
but what is,
and what might be.
# Inspired by many people who overuse hash-tag for absolutely no reason whatsoever! (#):
# You’re acting like a fool,
experimenting on every flavored pills!
Hash-tagging is worthless –
Who gets hash-tagging thrills?
You’re just looking for fame if you use that sign (# so lame)
It does eventually lead to shame without a name!
#’s overrated…seriously annoying as well!
What’s the point of using it?
Who can tell . . . It’s annoying (# just a bit!)
It’s even worse than someone saying something’s swag
# you’re so RAD! You’re bad to the bone I must add!
But, you can be a useless tool – repairing naught!
# What? Why are you still using the sign? You’re crazy and cool (# not!)
What’s the purpose of #?
It’s overused like a filthy, wet rag!
No more hash-tagging! I don’t wanna hear you brag!
# Your lame and so is your hash-tagging ability!
I hope you know no one cares about your personal life – # it’s not a cup of tea
# Say goodbye to the overrated sign!
Find something else to do than put up statuses with hash-tag in it –
I already heard about you through the grapevine – # you’re a gossiping target – I’m not trying to be rude! Obviously, I’m in a bad mood!
Don’t shut me out or ignore my calls! Hash-tag is okay to use once in a blue moon – # you are still “swag” and legit, so don’t throw your childish fit! Get over it and grow up, dude!
Okay! Maybe hash-tag is overrated in this verse, # but I have no regret! You wanna bet?
When I'm old...
I'm gonna have a tree house cave
When I'm old...
I'm going to be a lazy margarita lizard
playing with little baby sea serpents
And writing poems and verses on chalkboard
Oh, and when I'm old...
Aquarius my sign sweet'N sour
I'll lotus easy peasy
Key lime the blue moon
While washing Orion's pearl
When I go old..
I'll sing a whale song
I'll whirlpool four-leaf clovers
Frost salmon it takes two to tango
In your eyes wax seal, blush babbling brook
And after when I'm old
I shalt be not dead yet alive
In heaven be gettin my praise on...
talkin to God and Jesus eating manna-watermelon
At the golden gates
For when your in heaven you're never dead
You're rebirth, reborn ever praising God forever
9/28/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
I felt alone, though there were multiple crowds around me.
I felt, I should go to a lonely place and cry aloud.
Why, though the environs are full of flowers, there's no glee?
Death snatches the joys of the humble as well as the proud.
You were young. You, often, dreamed of a new heaven and earth.
Your thoughts, words, actions, and aspirations shone with newness.
You said you would define the fate that defined each one's birth.
Amidst your shrewdness, there was in you coolness and smoothness.
You were a friend to all. Your heart was full of love for all.
You were as uncommon as a blue moon or a shooting star.
Why should Destiny rudely send you an untimely call?
Why should you, as though the life here is not enough, go far?
Will those blissful days of fun and frolic ever come back?
Will my wistful moments, towards optimism find their track?
Didn't walk five miles per hour this morning
Barely three
For little more than two
Slow enough to feel the sun
Touch me
Through tall tree shadows
Stretched over the trail
Slow enough to feel
Loved and protected
So, why doesn't everyone
Old man on a Harley
At the trail crossing
Too tough to smile, good day
Like I did, when I stopped for him
Motorcycles, guns and trucks
Don't compensate
For what it takes to be a man
And that's what she was trying to say
About the masculine energy
Being all she felt
I stop to watch a woodpecker
Banging his head against an ancient tree
Sigh
I see Jewel singing at Woodstock 1999
"Who will save your soul
If you won't..."
And that's just it
You won't
I ponder what heals
Just being here
In the North Country
So easy
You don't even have to water your lawn
And the Black River is big and loud
But gentle as a dove
At the end of the path
Leading down to its shore
Beach gravel crunches
It spreads wide and runs still here
Across the water a lone fisherman
In a yellow boat
I'd like to be him
Always found comfort here
If I am here
Not just passing through
As I most often do
I might need a hit of acid
Once in a blue moon
To rewire my brain
Around the guilt, loss, and shame
But listening to rivers, trees, birds and sunshine
Usually heals whatever hurts
Why not everyone
We can only wish
She was right about the energy
We can all be in tune
If we just--will
There are trails where I live
That soothe the soul
Lost and forgotten
Guess I had to come here
To find them
Sigh
Conflict is inevitable
In any meaningful relationship.
It's okay to disagree.
It's okay to want different things.
No two people are exactly the same.
No matter how deeply in love
And happy a couple is,
Both are bound to be out of sync
In terms of needs and wants
Every now and then.
Conflict is inevitable
In any meaningful relationship.
Even couples with decades
Of marital bliss have spats
Once in a blue moon.
This is common knowledge.
It's impossible to be
On the same wavelength all the time.
Even longtime lovers have different fears,
Values, tastes and preferences.
Conflict is inevitable
In any meaningful relationship.
Opinions differ; rather than
Splitting hairs ad-nauseum,
It's better to brainstorm a solution.
And it's okay to arrive at an impasse.
Avoid going down the rabbit hole
Of blaming, belittling, guilt-tripping,
And threats. For the sake of peace,
Simply agree to disagree,
And everybody wins!
Date written: 12/10/2021
I don't matter.
I've never mattered to anyone
I don't matter
No one's waiting for me
And I wait for no one
I could have been a light in the night
I could have been a beacon in the dark
I could have been the shepherd's star
To find my way in the darkness
Of the blue moon
Who looks at me tonight
and for whom I matter
For once in my life
I can count on her
I count 1,2,3
And here I am
Ready to pick it up again for me
And for you too
You who look at me tonight by the moonlight
I can count on you
I can count on you
Blue glow
In the middle
of the indigo ocean
Aby M.
When silence speaks in broken dialects, to harmonize hurt,
I ponder, would the sky unravel synonyms for serenity,
amidst piercing thunder that strikes through raining regrets~
upon flowers, swaying forsaken, to butterfly ballads?
But will oblivious eyes, roaming the blackness of selfish spheres~
where prayers are abandoned as meaningless metaphors,
ever feel the darkness we carry, when tears no longer flow in lakes with swans, to be seen?
It is in melted muteness, we reveal realness of suppressed pain,
as childhood fears scribbled as forbidden secrets~
rewind on repeat through holographic lens of life,
mirroring bloodstained fingerprints etched across linen of chastity…
So tonight, when blue moon in my mind ascends in insomniac stillness,
listen to the sulfuric sins scattered as flashbacks of an onyx rose,
as vandalized veins scream in helplessness,
awaiting a sculptured sunrise that bleeds balmy ointments for burnt blisters,
while I remain, in mists of misery, weaving prose,
to erase tattooed torment that stole starry symphonies within my soul. ..
If there were none other but the shade of your eyes
Which mimics the sky on a morning
When every bird beats its wings to exhaustion
Trying to reach that periwinkle perfection above;
Were the only streak defining a rainbow's glory
To be the same as your favorite jeans, that embrace your curves with
A familiarity that only your closest friend dare use
Knowing how to bend the indigo denim deliciously;
If the seas lapped upon the shore in the exact shade of turquoise of the
Pendant that dances seductively in and out of the neckline of your favorite blouse
Creating the perfect high and low tide with your every slight catch of breath;
Then you would not only indwell me, our souls having become one,
But you would surround me, a blessing of blue as far as the eye could see.
Blue -- for a love more powerful than the ocean's unrelenting waves.
Blue -- for a love so all-encompassing yet ethereal that it rivals the very sky we exist beneath.
Blue -- for the streak in a rainbow and a promise from God of cherishing for eternity.
You are a treasure as rare as a blue moon, yet more beautiful and mysterious.
I am a humble pilgrim hoping to find gold but overwhelmed by the unexpected value of . . . Blue.
My love towards you, in which I prize,
Is, to you, overrated
One in a blue moon, we spent our good time
My love towards you, though my foolish heart can be unwise,
Is about to be updated
As soon as possible during the noontime
You brought heaven to my most bramazing - amazing and brilliant - verse
When I faced living hell on Earth...give to the Earth and don't throw a fit!
You are a gift, not a cruel, avarice-indulged - greedy & fat - curse
I wanted mirth, but you gave me what I could afford & I knew how much it was worth - a whole lifetime to receive mirth, don't take it for granite
Be a cheerful giver
I know, this poem's a mini, unwise one
Be a big, big believer
Let the day begin, let's welcome the dawn
With opens arms
With happy, lucky charms
Paint upside down frowns
And receive graceful, golden crowns
Don't be weighed down
By depression - don't drown