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A wash of blue
            
             Cool, calm.

Brush strokes on canvas

              Subtle, sweet.

Ocean eyes

               Pure, pretty.

Unfiltered sky

                Lucid, lush.

My kind of blue.
©️ 2021 Joshua Reece Wylie. All rights reserved.

Poem based on the colour blue.
Snowflakes hum inside my head,
bumping to and fro.
Stinging sky meets soggy ground and nothing seems to stick.

Each flake is different, so I'm told--
each unknowable and cold, they vanish when you try to grasp them--
fleeting, fragile wisps.

I've spun no story strong enough
to stake my ship upon.
My tears dry up before they're spilled for little lasts for long.

Blankets white I find here not--
that, nor green-clad earth--
only harried solitude inside these biting mists.

Perhaps my blust'ring mind is not
leading me to tread my sought-for courses; I fear I've forgot them
yearning for the drifts.

But elsewhere 'neath the firmament, there are other skies.
There are other thoughts in other hearts apart from mine.

From over where the snow falls
and beneath the bedrock's roots
flames unflinching flicker still through height and depth and width.
Some of my poems come together in a few quiet minutes or an afternoon-- this one's been in the works for over a month and I'm still mulling it over.  I first conceived it when I was driving to a college visit and it started flurrying.

I'd like to hear some criticism regarding the sound.  It's got a specific meter and lots of assonance and consonance, with a few perfect rhymes.  I really liked developing the sounds, but I think it might be a little too sing-song in certain parts, especially since all of the lines are iambic.  I intentionally broke patterns in a few places to make it a little bit disorienting and frustrating while still pleasant, and I'm not sure if I've got the effect quite right.  How would you describe the sounds?  Did you notice them working with with or the themes?  Is it happy, playful, frustrating, satisfying?  (Did anyone pick up on "windy" sounds with all the effs and esses? I was quite proud of that)

Many thanks :-D
Jason Feb 24
Sullenly, I quote whilst I quaff

Softly stammered surcease of wroth

Consummately ****** I sputter and cough

Sloshed ale sloppily sopped

Spite shed, soft shadows soughed

Soggily satiated at brimful trough
© 02/24/21 Jason R. Michie All rights Reserved

Disclaimer: No alcoholic beverages were harmed in the shaping of this soppy silliness
Cindy Feb 21
fell of the fatal fruit
forged from Father's flesh
a failing to feed
forbidden to follow

first flames favours the fool
fever of a fractured fervour
forgive me Father
for I will fall

fell of the fabled fruit
forged from Father's flesh
a feast for fast
fuel for me

Father flickers further
I was forfeited;
Father has forsaken me
I was faithful.
Blessed be the Bleak Black Skies
Where wintry winds wind far and wide
For fairest fairies heaven’s vault ignite
– My mind meandered whilst outside.
“Beware Beloved boy!” – Babushka bawled
“Lest your sleigh slides down the sleety lake
Come quick inside to escape the cold
Except my heart this Yule you yearn to ache”

Seven summers since have passed
And adamant as I always am,
Torpefied are my toes atop the tarn
Yet bare-bodied I be
Showcasing my shivering sheath
Red cheeks, red nose, and red feet
Keen to knuckle under Kári’s decree
So, I submerged myself swiftly
Below Boreas’s biting abode
Concealed in the coldest calmest of waters
Within Winter Wonderland’s whitest
For that freeze that forces you to fathom
that Corpses can’t feel the cold
I couldn't decide on a title so is either "Frostbite Freedom" or "Winter Waters" :)
blemishes borne by blueberries,
beautiful baby bruisings
jaden Jan 13
i practice putting patterns in my poetry
i know you can hear them popping
and pushing through parted lips.
starting and stopping and starting again
trying to take trash and make it treasure.
Tired and weary,
Torn and worn;
Wrung with wights,
Thick with thorns.
Written Sept 2014
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