Balcony Poem VI. – Blues for Lorene
phishgod
Posts: 133
Balcony Poem VI. –
Blues for Lorene
Or, last
night, and
the sky
ablaze with
new found
glory, an
electric seven
layer cake
like tied
high colors—
golds fire
reds, pinks,
orange-yellow
blues, the
sun and
clouds sharing
nicely with
sky’s desire,
and all
is warm,
satori, sunset
the new
dawn to
return in
highwhite
of morning’s
cloud armada—
flying sails
amast for
afar Portugal,
and the
crisp sails
crackling o’er
head ‘neath
the mizzen,
matey ahoy,
but first
there is
this Madeira
of evening
skyreds, and
O! Wow!
Those blues
hues blowin’
in now
like a
flotilla, goin’
don’ to
Memphis all
shimmery as
if Cape
Horn, wailing
those Urban
Blues -- yeah
li’l Red
Rooster, Back-
door Man,
Ain’t Misbehavin’
yeah, blow,
and I
realize all
IS sky,
and the
fire-red night,
all Love’s,
vast harmonius
those ol’da
Mississippi Blues,
those hot
licks Saint
Louis down
the Delta
Blues, those
hot Kansas
City Blues,
and yeah,
I can
hear the
whole balcony
singing blues
Blind boy,
blue &
red birds
(cardinals) singing
in wind,
and the
sky is
full of
Hope, and
the Blue
Midnight sadness
is no
More, and
all is
Wonderful, most
wonderful, as
winter comes,
so now
the Blues,
my Lorene.
--November 17, 2002
@pth
(first contact anniversary edition)
Blues for Lorene
Or, last
night, and
the sky
ablaze with
new found
glory, an
electric seven
layer cake
like tied
high colors—
golds fire
reds, pinks,
orange-yellow
blues, the
sun and
clouds sharing
nicely with
sky’s desire,
and all
is warm,
satori, sunset
the new
dawn to
return in
highwhite
of morning’s
cloud armada—
flying sails
amast for
afar Portugal,
and the
crisp sails
crackling o’er
head ‘neath
the mizzen,
matey ahoy,
but first
there is
this Madeira
of evening
skyreds, and
O! Wow!
Those blues
hues blowin’
in now
like a
flotilla, goin’
don’ to
Memphis all
shimmery as
if Cape
Horn, wailing
those Urban
Blues -- yeah
li’l Red
Rooster, Back-
door Man,
Ain’t Misbehavin’
yeah, blow,
and I
realize all
IS sky,
and the
fire-red night,
all Love’s,
vast harmonius
those ol’da
Mississippi Blues,
those hot
licks Saint
Louis down
the Delta
Blues, those
hot Kansas
City Blues,
and yeah,
I can
hear the
whole balcony
singing blues
Blind boy,
blue &
red birds
(cardinals) singing
in wind,
and the
sky is
full of
Hope, and
the Blue
Midnight sadness
is no
More, and
all is
Wonderful, most
wonderful, as
winter comes,
so now
the Blues,
my Lorene.
--November 17, 2002
@pth
(first contact anniversary edition)
rockon,
phishgod
phishgod
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
this one's going my way
phishgod
Man, this guy sure knows how to write a great poem!
Miss you, phishgod!
Love to you and your inspiration too!
I was going to comment at first about how the colors were too mashed in the beginning but obviously you expounded on each, dissecting the colors of a sunset, very vivid, keep em coming