Blues Poems - Poems about Blues

I like hammocks. I like buzzing bees. Unseasonably warm days. Or maybe more like hours… In April, things get taken out. Then put away again. My favorite shorts. My favorite flowers. My favorite everything. Even when it’s supposed to be cold and stormy tomorrow… We don’t believe it. So we pull out clunky lawn furniture. And mow the...

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They want our rhythm but not our blues They envy our natural melanin yet tan too We wear our style and they call it hood They copy it now and say it’s all good They want to erase our heroes and heroines Because there’s a power in the skin we’re in King, Tubman, Malcom X, Garvey and more are Past heroes...

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Blues music, a genre that expresses emotive lyrics, reflecting love and joys or struggles, sorrow and hurt of everyday life, as well as frailty and vulnerability or resilience to bounce back and move on. In blues music the common instruments are guitars and vocals and blue or bent notes are featured creating a distinct melancholic and somber tone that some think, sing or listen to the blues when they are...

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The sky turned dark The poet built a fire & warmed his hands Worms crawled thru His skin& angels Cried & moments Slipped pass like Lavendar melting The Santa Fe Chief & coyote serenaded The wanderer Remembering Your hot breath Cascading like Moonlight on His back ...

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There is an enormous gumball machine in this hair cutting place. It was probably gleamingly shiny and beautiful once. Possibly held three hundred thousand gumballs. Yes, Virginia, it is that big. This machine is pathetically empty now. There are only enough gumballs to fill the bottom inch of her bowl. I feel sorry for her....

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Once man believed the world to be square And I sought the horizon Once your words were as honey Your eyes shone with magic And I sought to be part of your life Once man learned the world was round The horizon was no longer a mystery Once she left and never returned I understood the horizon...

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KODACK BLUES Up above me is an empty sky Tonight, I miss you, but I cannot cry I’m travelling like an explorer’s ship I forge a smile but don’t give a flip Nighttime calls me and I wonder why Do you see me drifting Don’t I look so sly Neon lights give me sights to see And nobody can play a fool like...

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Self-transformation through karma includes a load of drama. I should have bought a larger and deeper diorama. When a crises fully shook me, I feared my ink had dried, forced gone by the new brain managing my mind from inside. To outrun the blues, my muse likely fashioned good-bye shoes. Grieving my muse, I cried recalling decades we'd penned through. I...

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Neon haze on cobblestone nights, whispers ride on the southern moonlight. Shadows dance in the lamplight’s gleam, bourbon burns, but so do my dreams. There's a preacher on the corner, selling sinners one last prayer. But the devil’s got a table, and he’s pulling up a chair. Oh, Bourbon Street, take my soul, drown my sins in rock and roll. Golden whiskey, lace and lies, where...

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As the wind cascades out in a frenzy motion Nephophilia, a thudder crave Exclamation is a sudden urge Since soft cotton candies switches to pastels and iridescents Looking up close Still immeasurably far The old regime of sunrise and sunsets finna come up to horizon where moons and suns collide stars surrounding them blues and whites...

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Winter Blues, Spring Clues Miracle Man 2/24/2025 Soon God will usher winter days to sleep, and the warming air will cause birds to sing. Lawns will turn green and require some upkeep, this is the happening, welcoming spring. The thing most appealing, arriving birds, the Robins are our first birds to appear. Then Mocking Birds spewing other birds words, but to flocks of Starlings i...

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When certain people poison the words diversity, equity and inclusion and I see all the progress this country is about to loose… is it any wonder why, for a while now, I have had the blues. But when I think about it…it’s appropriate I have attached the color blue to me… because blue is the epitome, the embodiment…the essence...

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The trumpet cries beneath the neon glow, a golden wail that haunts the hollow night. The bass line walks where lonely spirits go, its heartbeat steady, low and laced with bite. Her voice is velvet, dipped in smoke and sin, a lullaby for hearts too torn to mend. She sings of love, of loss, of what has been, each note a ghost...

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Event: Anglo-Boer War 1899–1902—Measles epidemic in the concentration camps. In the voice of: Sannie Botha (a survivor). Jan’s cough kept me awake all through the night. The children are all coughing in the night; the fevers gave us all a mighty fright. The red, now itchy, spots on body parts; “Oh! Son Jan, don’t you scratch the itchy parts, as scabs and...

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But there's one thing I know The blues they send to meet me Won't defeat me, it won't be long Till happiness steps up to greet me … But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red Crying's not for me 'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining Because I'm free Nothing's worrying me Raindrops Keep Falling On My...

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