Light blue

Trying so hard to find my way
Through all this work while others play
Trying to find the words to use
To paint this in some other hues
The notes are shimmering my eyes
In echoes holding no surprise
Cold shivers blowing raspy tones
Self hugs swaying tired moans
As memories ache within my bones
Too bad and leavin' what's the use
Too sad to even sing the blues
The beat goes on within my head
A fever pitch of throbbing red
Put rhythm in this sweeping thing
Hum along then start to sing
It aint so bad don't feel so blue
You've got a job and work to do
Pick up the beat and dance it through

Reviews

[Gandré]

This poem was an example on airness, hunting in using short words, made a certain state of imaginery, your poem is making me believe impopssible I was thrown into someone's elses past, looking at it from the top of the mountain. great, donald.

[J]

Ugh - how I do envy your fortitude, determination, darlin'. And by gawd, you should be playin. Me too, actually, now that I think about it. I do hope there will be time enough for that. Hummingbird kisses on the wind . . .

[Laura E. Aranda]

this is the first piece that I have read by you and can't wait to get to the rest! Cheers to you, lea

[An Ordinary Woman]

Ohhh Donald. Bingo.

You nailed my life. Ugh. Sorry this isn't very formal of me from the normal perspective of a review but hell, that's exactly what it's like. EXCELLENT writing, as always.

[Christel Grady]

I can actually feel the rhythm in these words! Makes me want to sway and stomp a little. Lovely piece!