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My Blues
My Blues
by vlm
My blues are red hot!
Oow, baby!
Like the blue nile in Egypt
The blue sky at dawn
The muse of my mind
Is the music of my heart --
My blues are red hot!
It burns like dry ice -- icy hot!
Searing my soul
Through and through--
Burn, baby, burn!
When you left me behind
Drained of all blood
The empty husk of me
Collapsed into the even horizon
Of my discontent --
Yet, the death of my loss
Brought the life into me
As my color temperature
Shifts the spectrum
Back into the range of
Blues, yellows, greens,
Oranges, purples, reds --
I'm seeing the rainbow's shimmer
As the molecules and atoms
And quarks and strings in
This swirling spasm of infinity
Rebirths me with a Big Bang!
My blues are red hot!
They are a boiling cauldron
Of maleficient horrors
Eking a twisted path
Into my living hell
Like molten lava
Roiling and rising within the caldera
Submerged within my sea of calm --
My blues . . .
My blues is the fire on your tongue
When you taste my sin
Like pure Louisiana cayenne
Prickling the nerve ends
Of your palate with a flame
No water can extinguish --
My blues are the pulsing
Currents of your inner river
Impacting and extracting with
Tragic consequences
The hole my soul abandoned --
My blues are not your blues, girl
Because your heart is black --
But my blues . . .
Are red hot!
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Comment by: vlm - 2008-09-12 16:49
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WOW! Thanx, Brian. That's high praise indeed. Yes, it is fun to up-end expectations. That's the real fun of poetry. It allows all types of experiments. Hopefully they won't blow up in your face (sometimes they do. LOL).
A little background: this was written as a response to my acrimonious divorce some years back. I was very depressed (blue), but soon I realized how fortunate I was to be able to get my life back. I changed many things and set myself on a direction of personal happiness. That's when my life became red hot, so to speak. So, in a way, not only my life but my universe changed (within me) and I feel truly free.
Last comment: Performance does add so much, doesn't it? But I still hope the words speak for themselves in the quiet of each reader's mind.
Peace! |
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| Okay. I am writing a little more informed then most on here. I watched you perform this at open mic after all. I can hear you getting into this still. This poem is absolutely amazing. You take something that, for many, has become cliché, and you add images to it in such a way that it is refreshed. That's part of the fun of writing, isn't it? Not just staying away from clichés altogether, but finding new ways to incorporate them so as not to give them the same dull vision that a thousand other poets before us have given them. You've done that here. You images are amazing. I particularly love the passage about the cayenne. I can't see really changing anything on this poem. That may be because I heard it performed. |
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