Long Blues Poems
Long Blues Poems. Below are the most popular long Blues by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blues poems by poem length and keyword.
I was awakened early…by a sound in the woods something running to and fro
and when I reached the porch to take a look I found the entire mountain aglow.
I noticed part of a bench on the porch was lit up…which made me stop…and smile..
It’s as if the moon was inviting me to sit down and stay a while.
So I decided not to go back to bed…after all…the moon was calling
and I was too excited to sleep…this moment too enthralling.
An indigenous legend came to me…that has a kind of magical theme…
It says if you can’t sleep at night…it means you are awake in someone else’s dream.
So with the crickets in the background singing their nightly tune
I accepted her invitation…and sat down…in the glow of the moon.
As I sat on the bench…in the quiet solitude of the night…
just like the mountains and the trees around me…I too absorbed of her light.
Yes, as I looked out at the scene in front of me…colored in blacks and muted blues…
I was truly a part of nature…for I was glowing too.
In the glow of that giant full moon…with everything in silhouette
I saw it was a family of raccoons who woke me…I guess they hadn’t finished eating yet.
In the glow if that giant full moon…cooled by an early morning breeze
the falling leaves sounded like raindrops as winter nudged them from the trees.
And I thought If I am awake in someone else’s dream…wherever that may be…
I hope the dream that they are dreaming is as beautiful…as my reality
Author Dana Redricks
April 14, 2023
Have you ever had the blues, when life seems to be filled with only bad news? When the world appears dark and bleak, and every day feels like another uphill battle in which you seem to lose. But fear not, my dear friend, for the blues will come to an end. The sun will shine again and hope will lift you above all your doubts. Remember, life is like a rollercoaster ride, full of ups and downs, twists and slides. And just like the blues, the lows will pass, and happiness will return again. So hold on tight and do not let go,
Keep moving forward, even if you have to move slow. For with time and perseverance, you will see, that the blues will disappear, and you will be at ease, and be set free. You will begin to see more clearly how the trials of life have shaped you into the person you are meant to be.
Well he wakes up early,
when the sun breaks ‘cross the land.
Then he goes out on the river,
high up on the logs he stands.
For counting twenty years now
he’s been a river-driving man.
And he don’t do anything else…
He drives that timber
down the river with the flow.
He always knows the river
will determine where it goes.
When it jams upon the curves,
he clears it out with a pole.
Dangerous job too…
Sometimes the logs they
get snagged up on the rocks.
If he don’t go get ‘em,
the whole river they will block.
But the sawmill is awaiting,
and he knows they’re on the clock.
Time is money, boys, time is money…
More than once now,
this man has fell right in.
The half-frozen water,
it starts him shivering.
One day he may test the river,
and the river it might win.
River gets like that when it’s mad…
One say some hippies
got a rule made by the state.
No more drives on the river,
it’s ‘too dirty’ and ‘not safe.’
From now on the lumber
will move by trucks and trains.
Hippies ruin everything, don’t they?
Now he sits at the diner,
shootin’ bull with Norma Jean.
He goes down to the fair,
and he wins at the log-rolling.
It just ain’t the same though,
and nobody is hiring.
That’s always how it is…
These days we got hipsters,
of lumberjacks they are a fan.
Everywhere you see flannel,
but not a single calloused hand.
The world it has no place for
an old river-driving man.
Yes, the world it has no space for
an old river-driving man…
Color my thoughts in burgundy laughter,
Place your hand on my heaviest
Graves, those that winter in my depression,
Kiss away the buttery jonquils of spring
Erasing winter’s frosty promises
With hope that comes from seeing
The freedom of lavender, pink and scarlet
Tulips posing beneath an azure sky
Meant to destroy the demons of cold
Weather, where silence is summoned
By clouds in silver, passing by
Dancing silhouettes of deliverance
Posing as enchanted fairies,
Inspirations in emerald hues, lasting
Blues and lavender truth – echoing
Musical whispers in the presence
Haunting joys who speak of hopes,
Uncovered beneath the layers of frozen
Silvery breathes, healing both
The summer’s caress and the barrenness
Where forests who glimpse the meaning
Beneath a boneyard, cemetery quests
For melancholic urges formed
In the autumn leaves, trees vibrating
Pulsing with magic that is bold,
Brilliant in blushes so alive they boast
Promising the heart, the soul
To wash away every dark thought
With crimson kindness and forever
Gentling the songs who resonate
Along the powerful rains who pour out
Memories and blessings, both
Aware of the faith it takes to reassure
Dreams that there is the timelessness
In the forest, the wings of fairies
Woodsy scents, plants
Blending grace with lasting thanks
For the beautiful that comes
To those who know that this prayer
Is the mystery who lights up
Passionate, praise – faith
With the shades of astonishment
Found inside the heart who believes,
The summertime abides
Beneath the wonders discovered
In souls who need to see
That even the wintertime can bring
Such glorious grace, the seeing
Behind the secret joys
Into the music of hope and peace,
The song that abides inside
Those who sincerely believe!
We are stil here musing toying
about frolicking throughout
the galaxy only he and I can
muster up the courage to
devour life's simple pleasures
crafted and so well hidden
a little bit of heaven on earth
that we share like freshest
peaches on a lazy river he
and i humming my favorite
songs somewhere beyond
the sea somewhere over
the rainbow colorful hearts
pour from the sky splashing
us beneath the sun rays as
we run for cover between
colorful hues dazzled by day
by night singing the blues
he and I are the only ones left
alive all our troubles has gone
leaving us here right here
right now we are still here
Sitting downstream in this delightful setting
When you close your eyes there is just no forgetting
I can still see the scene that my mind has captured
The most glorious of colours leaves me in rapture
The bluest of sky seeps through a canopy I behold
Mirrored on the stream it's dreamy blues unfold
Ancient stones sit like islands in the sun
Creating ripples of motion in downstream run
But it's the avenue of colours that delights my eyes
Season after season she always leaves her surprise
Greens mix with golds, ochres yellows, reds and browns
A spectacular collage paints this bright Autumn gown
Within weeks to a month until the last leaf falls
Then her seasons move on as Winters installed
'Frisco to Atlanta, D.C. back to L.A.
Chaos running wild in the Land of the Free
Fighting for the right of frustration and greed
We're holding court in the streets
We had to make ad hoc law for the Nazi German freaks
Now just apply the laws to all those confused by geeks
Peace cries out through the masses and their fears
Lighting the fuse of anarchy, ostracizing all that appears
It's a freedom of all amended rights
Closing our eyes to the other side
Saluting the red, white and blues
(I must ask the relativist concerning rules, who's?)
Like Superman and kryptonite and a telephone booth
We've lost sight of (Pilate asks) what is truth
I am black and I have the ability to glorify the King
I am great and in believing in him, I have authority over all things
I am the Father and Mother of past, present and future
Peacemakers, Educators, Scientists, Musicians, Scholars, Kings and Queens
I am John Love the sharpener inventor
I am Mae C. Jemison the astronaut
I am Martin Luther King the peacemaker
I am Toni Morrison a contemporary novelist.
I am Muhammad Ali the boxer
I am Wilma Rudolph the Olympic track and field champion
I am Tiger woods the golfer
I am Lucy Laney the educator.
I am Jack Johnson the heavyweight
I am Rosa Parks the segregation leader
I am Jesse Wilkins the physicist and mathematician
I am Serena Williams a tennis player.
I am Isaac Murphy the great through-bred jockey
I am Bessie Coleman the first licensed African American pilot
I am Chester Burnett the blues singer
I am Eleanor Holmes a politician and civil rights activist.
I am Thomas Dorsey the father of gospel music
I am Chadwick Boseman the famous Black Panther actor
I am Barack Obama the forty-four first
Black Afro-American president, we are the future.
We are the hope for the lost and forgotten generation.
Opps! must be dead,
looks like the pearly gates,
Rough guy levitates towards me,
think I know his face,
St Peter, I need some help
trying to get into this place,
I’ll let you enter kiddo,
but my identity you mistake,
I’m Lemmy from Motorhead,
and these are rocknroll gates.
What! where the hell am I,
bet my drink got laced,
Musical heaven my friend,
come on let’s get spaced,
Sure thing, have you got
any weed, also love a pint,
Hey that’s my middle name,
I’ve just rolled a hardcore joint,
Guess who’s on tonight,
Jimi Hendrix tops the bill,
His new girlfriends, a foxy lady,
he’s even covering my overkill,
Hows Bon Scott, haven’t
heard from him in a while,
Drinking vodka in the bar,
hitting highway to hell in style,
I’d love to see Cobane,
that guy could really write a song,
Yeah still in rehab, his will is good,
be out before too long,
This is some kickass place,
when was it conjured up,
Jagger came up with the idea,
wanted his own club,
No way! he’s definitely alive,
I seen the stones last year,
afraid overdosed on brown sugar,
Devil had sympathy, let him reappear,
Wow this black cannabis stuff,
is really kicking in,
Can we go see a show,
but please not that infernal din,
Oh ignore him, Conway Twitty,
turning this place into a zoo,
Just hangs around the gates,
heaven banned him too,
Mercury, Bowie, George michael
did they make the cut,
I’ll let you in on a secret
we don’t see them very much,
Well Freddie didn’t settle,
said he wanted to break free,
Ziggy’s here ok, all time low,
after splitting from gene genie
And for George, lost his faith,
normally stays around the loo,
Watch out for Jim Morrison,
lighting fires, gets roadhouse blues
Wow I’m wasted Lemmy,
how come your not allowed on stage,
What! oh the straight jacket,
don’t get me into a rage,
That nasty war stuff I collected,
got me sent to hell,
My noisy music drove satan crazy,
left me here for a spell,
Well nice meeting you Lemmy,
I’m off to see the show,
God was never on your side,
better off down below.
By
David Kavanagh.
The cymbals create,
A mesmerizing sound
Reaching their brass highs
I sit listening to the blues come alive.
The music is guiding me,
Reminding me of sounds and sights
We've infused our vibes, our lives
In our tune's beat, making it sound all right!
I stroll down the streets,
I can hear the Musicians Nine
They're blowing into their tin horns
Enticing everyone around them to listen.
Tiny Foster is there:
Effortlessly strumming on his cords
Making enchanting melodies on his
Beat-nick guitar; he records.
People are passionately sitting,
They started reciting in their poetries
Speaking their lines in rhythmic rhymes
Talking in verse, laying out some lines.
Representing themselves profoundly with articulations,
In the beauty of prose, it was best that I mention
An atmosphere that leads on for hours, contemplations
You can get lost in it if you give in to an elongation.