BluesMan• Show poetry

Live Outside The Box...

Or Die In The Decay Of  Complacency

Who am I?

I'm a boy living in darkness
And a man afraid of the light!
But with each new day when my eyes open,

I embrace my fears
And walk among the living in the light of day.
I can't play the game of life,

if I'm sitting on the bench!

Or hiding in the box!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A special thanks to my friend Desire,

whose emotionally charged poem,

has ignited the dying embers,

in my wounded soul,

and broken heart!

*~ Sing...The BluesMan ~*

    by Desire on June 16. 

    © All rights reserved

 


Distracted by frivolous anomalies in air,
mood swings my Mother announced.
I remembered the story one did share,
when the Shadows wanted to pounce.

How I wanted to sing the BluesMan
with every fibrous ounce,

let barefeet kick the hopeless can...

[the Lord infused more Light to announce] 
He also had  an alternative plan~

but my Voice wavered,  weakened
by doubts whether a note I could hold yet
there was another who did transcend
inspired me to get my dry whistle wet.

An Angel beside his frame after loss
they both endured sometime ago,
even though
the BluesMan tried to reach across;
show how their Love can plant and grow.

We may not understand nor comprehend
why his Soul Mate had to leave;  in need
of words to comfort afterwards to mend;
I heard the BluesMan drop tears as seed:

              Of difficult days ahead
   saying Goodbye to his best Friend


brought memories to surface,  my end
presumed when my other half had gone.
Other dominoes fell in place,  out of place
Spirit wavered in search of self withdrawn.
Meaning retraced along each child's face,
             my children, my spawn
regret almost possessed,  pity did replace.

I felt sadness when it happened,  held back
deluge of Dreams Spirit once had
nevertheless rejoiced for what I didn't lack
which was the BluesMan,  

                  Marlana Alyssa's Dad.

               

He reminded me of: Life Poetry and Sobriety
plus the Author Unknown who understood
there are circumstances which circumvent
from a Sacred bench made of wood.

Thankfully, my Mother changed mood,  would 
remain  sober~ gardening with renewed Life spent.
Hold her even closer now,  like a daughter should;
smiling~ my arm around her shoulder,  head bent.                    
                                       
Some may not view its importance or may
presume it trite
however the Carpenter in all of us- someday
can sing the BluesMan and think of plight
as reason to say:

       We can make it through this alright...

This poem was written by my dear friend

Janice M. Pickett

For me, in celebration of my 50th Gold Trophy

To Bill With Love

````````````````````````

This poem was written by my dear friend Georgia AKA "aslanlight"

For me, in celebration of my 50th Gold

From Whence Does Gold Arise?
Well I definately Know of one place

From Whence does Gold Arise

From whence does gold arise?

From the ground as solid mass
smelted and moulded
into shapes
Cast into icons
cherished and worshiped
Placed as high ideals

I wonder...

St John's Wort petals
gleaming golden in the sun
Spreading fragrance
through the air
Lifting spirits
healing minds

Or could it be...

The golden lilt in your eyes
surrounding your iris
Offering your love

Holding little ones
in your arms
and being the man you are......

Favorite Quotes

#1
I believe that friends...
are quiet angels, who lift us to our feet
when our wings have trouble, remembering how to fly.

#2
Love is...Friendship caught on fire!

#3
There's always room for improvement
It's the biggest room in the house!

#4
Life is not about weathering the storm
It's about learning to dance in the rain!

#5
The will of God will never take you...
Where the Grace of God will not protect you.

#6

Religion is for people....

that are afraid of going to Hell

~ 

Spirituality is for people....

who have already been there! 

My Own Personal Quotes 

A hopeless romantic,

A song writer mainly in the style of the Blues

I have played the Blues Harmonica for the past thirty-seven years.

I started writing poetry at the age of eight.

That was fourty-three years ago.

At the age of eleven, back in 1969

I had completed a small 40 page booklet of poetry.

 Which was published when I was thirteen,

way back in 1971,

when I decided to become a Hippie

Peace, Pot & Micro-dot, Dude

Well not any more Hehehe

I have recently finished the final edit of my very first full lenght 385 page

Science Fiction Novel called...

"The Guardians"

I have decided not to do a vanity publishing on Amazon.com. Instead I am following a strict set of guidelines to enter into a contract with an Agent. 

Who will market my book to all the

Major Publishing Houses.

I write poetry for the love of writing poetry

Novels I write... For the money! Heheh