Monday, May 2, 2011

Blues


I cannot weary of the blues
A strange and potent tactile muse
Tapping its dissonant tone
Like rain-drops on the cobblestone
A syncopated symphony
Playing deep inside of me

A testy hymn of driving rain
Beating on my windowpane
Forcing me to contemplate
The things I cannot mediate
Nor by sheer will can I diffuse
The dissonance of moody blues

Clouds and moments dissipate
Only love can conquer hate
But they cannot touch the blues
Or the sweet and silent muse
Welling up inside of me
In tattered bits of poetry

J~

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