And when they ask you what I’m doing
Tell them I’m blooming blowing
Busy blowing the blues away
Baby Blue once infant turned baby gray
baby grave
Sooner or Later
Nothing is bound to happen.
Can’t feel and won’t do
Can’t blow it away
It won’t do me or you or them or else
Can’t blow my blues away
Because after all that trouble there’s nothing to it
So will you go now
And Take the Tale away
I’m busy blowing
blowing my blues away
-
Author:
Courtney_Morrisson (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 29th, 2026 12:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
This poem although labeled the blues feels a bit jaz with that type of beat. Nicely written it feels musical
Soren ! You have no idea what reading you felt... I study the Beats, so your comment fills me with joy ! Thank you x
You are most welcome Courtney
Courtney, this really moved me. The shifting visual presentation and the emotional undercurrent work hand in hand, creating a piece that feels both intimate and unsettling. It asks the reader to experience it as much as read it. Beautifully crafted, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Oh my !! Thank you very much, Tristan.
So I don't anticipate much response from someone only interested in themselves, therefore please make anything you pin here worthy of a read but with zero expectation of input from me.
Well I' m here now so it is easy enough to add welcome to MPS without negating any of the above...
Such a warm welcome 🙂 Thank you, Dave
I can get warmer... 'see how it goes... I might (emphasis on the 'might') have hidden depths...😜
good write
thank you so much Norman !
most welcome
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