Choose Your Blue

This year has been challenging. I’ve had to face a lot of physical illness. After another round of being sick, I just wanted to share something upbeat. I don’t know that this piece is upbeat, but it spoke to me. It just has this err or fun to it, so I’m sharing it with you today. I hope you find something fun inside it and maybe it brings a smile to your face.

Photo by Andre Moura on

Choice of Blue

I’m having so much fun alone,
is how I look like the knees from your favorite faded blue jeans.
From the bluish/brown clay of night, I let the universe play potter
grinding me up, curving me, building me up to form.
Another night I lent myself to the strong hands of the baker,
flour powdering, coursing veins in my forearms, whipping me up to taste.

I pray these days without speaking, my joy ululating like car alarms
as I share cigarette on a black and blue fire escape
with a girl who looked so lonely in blue. I sensed
she needed to feel lovely, so we dance down allies
with the ghost lines of cocaine and tar, the long boulevard of
diseased elms. The sky that seemed to have forgotten
how to rain remembered and we scattered.

The moment will always sit in my mind and when I enter it,
it will be like finding my diary writing itself. It’s odd
how much space life has for all the stuff we collect.
I stopped building my rooms around paintings and started painting my rooms
around my life. I forbid myself from limitations.
If I wanted it, nothing escaped me. There are forests for love
and rivers for grief and lanterns for hope and pies when you need to shape things.

“You are your own little God,” I’d remind myself every day.
Some days the wind is a flirt and others she’s a wreck
and when you need something said to you,
yell it off a cliff and it will echo right back.
At dusk play with your silhouette, it asks you to dance all day.
Each sunrise and sundown changes and adjusts the blankets of the sea.
Lay in them, be covered by them, let it all wash away.

Cleanse what you can no longer carry
and remember to keep it lite. There’s always a chance
you might be dancing tonight. The world writes brilliant lectures,
take pause often and just study it’s patterns. The orchard,
the limbs of the trees, the sunlight on everything
it’s there for whatever little Gods want it that day.
You can even forbid it,
and it will be there whenever you decide to show up and play.

I’m happy like the stream
rushing silently and spilling everywhere.
Every revolution begins in memory.
There are things all around you that will say, ‘it’s too late to change…,’

you can be lonely in blue or lovely in blue,
it’s up to you, beautiful,
you choose?

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