The Blue Poems - Poems about The Blue

I live my life through colours prime through colours, colours, colours prime. Can change their shades at any time can change them as I age. Beginning with the whitest page the whitest, whitest, whitest page. My youth was with me at this stage my youth with colours bright. The mix back then was blended right was blended, blended, blended right. These shades remained within my...

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Thriving in the sun she sways inside her garden each time a fragrant wind arrives from the sea Her lavender blooms fill the earth with pardon she bends at will like a tiny bud young and free She is a rare and beautiful blue moon in my hand pulled from the ground she sets my heart aglow...

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Sparrows enjoy a certain reputation For intimacy and hope Crosby Stills and Nash sang of them In Suite: Judy Blue Eyes As compatriots to the morning Air With guitar strums and high notes Truth be told Sparrows are bulkier than the normal song bird And not particularly Pretty Brown and gray as a mound of dirt Chirpy jerky punk band And they have no problem with crowding out From...

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My nail polish matches turquoise streak on the menthol cigarette. My mood matches the greenish mint blue color of my cuticles. My day going by as long as nail polish had to dry....

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BLUE MOUSE GROUP ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The blue mouse group wrote through the night, with their tiny nibs and ink, what a sight! They scribbled and scrawled, 'Til on the stairs they sprawled, They collapsed, what a comical fright! ...

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the wind blows, caressing my skin, my hair is tousled, i make no attempt to fix it. breathe, once and then twice. the waves crash against the shore, my heart fills with a strange sense of peace. breathe, once and then twice. my feet sink into the warm sand, the air is salty and profound. ...

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cut-out a simple abstract shape surfaces as the Blue nude the image triggering stark sensations drawn patterns pasted pastiche enssemblage modelled in abstraction curved & sevelte so blue so blue nude naked harmony joy & calm in stark shaped intensivity...

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I wasn’t born on the Virgin Islands No books prophesized my coming No shiny stars above the hospital bed Only handmaidens welcomed me in Most likely with awe struck expressions Slap some air into that baby me, please Make me scream, make me cry out loud What have I gotten myself into Mom says tears...

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[Verse 1] I was half a man in a boy’s disguise, Tried to speak truth, but it came out lies. Didn’t know how to break what I couldn’t define— So I blew us up like I’d lost my mind. You were books I hadn’t read yet, Said lines I loved but never met. You danced in the rain, without regret, I stood in...

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We met in a coffee shop off Fifth Avenue In Jersey. You were so magnetic; your eyes shone so brightly. A couple of years passed by; and our paths crossed once more through the entanglement of interwoven destiny. We both ended up in that coffee shop again. I have to ask: Did the blue in your hair fade naturally, or did you lose...

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"A future dawn will break, where nations transcend borders and unite as one". "A symphony of harmony will resonate, as every melody blends into a universal song". "All goddesses will be revered as facets of the Divine, reflecting the radiance of singular, all encompassing spirit". ...

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I no longer trust the vows of marriage For years, Vikings have built mystical Runes. We once soared forth in golden carriages. Now every dawn returns our dreamy tunes. A faery, I remain in vibrant flight. A mystic born with Stardust and Cosmos. My flight dreams transcend the mind's starry night To realms where big truths and visions arise. Handfasted once beneath the...

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timorous blue moon plays peek a boo in brooding clouds distant thunder claps ...

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Nowadays, people don’t 'get' the real Blues, they have blue-funks. The funks makes a person glare and simmer like a radio-active sunflower. The Blues don’t come at anyone with a rabid face, or any bad juju. Blues songs don’t club at you with a baseball bat, they won’t yell in your ear. If you got the Blues you have a dog and a guitar, even when you don't. If you got the Blues you have a whole range of sad...

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Damp sound of squelching grass beneath my feet ushers bright dew soaked morn on wild green plot of tangled twigs, stalks, leafs where young lambs bleat and blather without rein in frisky trot!...

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