#TBT Poetry: “Not Blue”

Originally penned 12/28/00.

A moment of memory: I started out writing “Not Blue” stream-of-consciousness style, with my ex-boyfriend in mind; but as I progressed, a stranger’s image emerged. Not sure who he was, as I have never met him (not in this lifetime, at least). This imaginary lover became my constant muse. Once in a blue moon, he still visits my dreams.

dreamstimefree_2185535
Watching The Time by Diana Constantin ID 2185535 | Dreamstime Stock Photos

“Not Blue”

Your eyes
A kaleidoscope of legends long past
Two globes of swirling colors
Shifting like my impatient feet
On the wet grass
Awaiting my prince’s arrival

Two living orbs
Green as the waters bordering Stonehenge
Emerald and gold
I could look into them
For no less
Than forever

I see
Your grandmother’s casket
Friends, past and present
Your lovely’s upturned face
She smiles
As you lean in to kiss her
No, not blue
But you’ve been known to change colors
When the mood suits your fancy

Someday?
I can’t tell
Lady Fate’s phone is disconnected
But an inner voice urges me
To dig deeper
And I remember

Flames of lust
Engulfing the core of my being
The deep warm center
You’ve often sought to fill
That place aches, too
After love
Thighs carelessly entangled
Hair playfully tousled

The windows of your soul
Open doors in mine
In your eyes
The aftermath of bliss
Burns briefly blue
Yet tension builds between us
Raging water against the dam
As storm clouds
Taint the sky’s purity

Now my eyes are filled with sadness
Like troubled oceans
As the ever-widening circle of bruises
Mottles my pale, useless arms
Holding me down
Back
The tempest will soon break

Not blue, and the fault is mine
“Sometimes this cross is so heavy”
But the guilt weighing down my heart
Is heavier still
Sudden clarity comes too late
To those who keep the shutters closed
Let me peek inside

I see
Bodies fusing like stars to the sky
Melding together
As one
On vanilla-scented leaves
Above the Great Below
Love in the torch’s flame
Eternally burning
Bring me back

The hourglass is not yet empty
But I have spotted a few gray hairs
Along the temples of Time
He does not bestow his favor
Upon lovers
You and I

We are as two extremities
Crusaders compelled toward
The pointed rocks
Destined to crash
Purgatory will not last
And the ship is sinking fast
Can you hear the music now?
The mermaids are calling us down

Distant sirens.


Thank you for reading. Please feel free to share some of your #TBT poetry in the comments.

Jane

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