blue

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fingers of gold sank below a navy-ridged sea,

gilded waters falling on unseeing eyes,

the question floating above the waves –

“What is Blue?”

 

my eyes met her gauzy gaze,

often met, but never known,

and silence reigned for a time

as i pondered things eternally hidden from her mind

 

at last the answer emerged from the cerebral cave,

hesitant subject, clothed in shadow,

a vessel chipped on one side –

“Blue is sorrowful;

 

“she is of the soul,

following Time, sinking low

as he takes another victim home;

She is the one who remembers the departed.

 

“Blue is the sister of Night, our reminder when the Sun,

that warm, ever-present Master,

rules the heavens –

She is the cool of the day

 

“and follows us all,

step by step,

until She rules once more;

She is the color of Lacking, of Darkness.

 

“Blue is the handmaiden of Winter, that cold Lord,

who with icy breath and iron heart

spreads sickness through the bones of men –

She taints the very light.

 

“and She is in the sea, too, and every body

of pure water,

reflecting herself from the sky,

as Her molecules of light scatter.”

 

“Blue is sorrow, then, and death?

is she painful to see?

does she cause the unfortunate

heart to weep, when Her light reaches its eyes?”

 

i paused once more, returning to that cave

where words hide

amongst Blue memories –

“no, just the opposite

 

“for often she is peace, hope,

the comfort of a breeze on a hot day,

the knowledge of the End

and of the room It makes for another Beginning;

 

“for She is the first thing you see in the morning,

before the Sun returns,

and she is the song of a cello –

the rich depth of music

 

“there is joy in melancholy,

and so there is also in Blue:

a beautiful echo,

that velvet touch shared by Death and Life.

 

“because as water sustains humankind,

Blue is something needed,

both common and rare –

found everywhere, and yet

 

“She is the hardest color

to recreate.”

Blue hovered in the silence

of mouth and of the milky-blue cataracts

 

like the sky on a hazy day, devoid of depth

yet full of light.

“She’s unique,” i whispered –

“and your eyes are Blue.”

6 thoughts on “blue

  1. I love this. The way you personified the color and used it to symbolize so many diverse things is absolutely stunning. Beautiful word choice. I do have a question though. Is your use of capitalization and punctuation intentional or unintentional? I feel like there might be some inconsistency throughout the poem, and it threw me off a little bit as I was reading just because the flow was broken up irregularly. What are your thoughts? This is a stained glass window, my friend. Keep up the excellent artwork.

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    1. I’m so glad you enjoyed it! To answer your question: yes, I was quite specific in my capitalization and punctuation, so most of those phrases, etc, were broken up on purpose. I put in a few other easter eggs, too – did you notice the wave-like shape of the stanzas?

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this! It’s so cool how you were able to capture the feeling of blue and describe it to someone who’s never seen it and I loved the last two lines you wrote: “She’s unique,” i whispered – //“and your eyes are Blue.” My favorite part about poetry is the way poets end their pieces and this one is so good! I can’t wait for more.

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  3. I really enjoyed this poem. The fact that you were able to so vividly describe a color is amazing, and I really enjoyed how you framed the poem with the dialogue between narrator and the blind girl. The contrast between loss and joy was really good, and you were really successful at moving from description of color to noting the similarities between life and death. You did an excellent job of conveying a theme of balance throughout. Thank you for the lovely poem!

    Liked by 1 person

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