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Blues for a Dive

by LK Barrett


Life is full enough on the outside,
bursting from blankness within–
poets run far and long and fly
higher than Kolor's hills,
under white diamonds on velvet fields,
drifting above the hours–
words filled with wit and sin;
tragedy and triumph as muses tend
the near truths and white lies of brilliant friends-
no we are not alone,
for they have traveled with us
fragmentary ejecta of rhythm,
cometary craze.
crashing into poetry on this stage

Take it all, break it, eat it, let it steal your blues—
then give it back again, jagged and laughing,
nothing left but the idyll of our age.
Blue restores the shadows, the lovers' light
The sheer audacity of aching creativity
splashes stone walls with mystery,
lays your brain on the table every Sunday night—

'cause Romantics, Sceptics, Goths, Concretes,
Confessionalists, Formalists, Symbolists, Beats,
Metaphysicalists, Cowboys, New York School,
Imagists, Futurists, Conceptualists, rule...

For to be included in such company
makes us bold, and brighter—
ready to bend music and speech into one form—
muse is what you are to me.
The power and love of your atmosphere lifts us—
the light and shadows of your walls give hope—
the ragged gray cement edge of dreams clothes us like ermine,
we poets crowning each other cool,
bluely cool
and wildly diving all the night
into great.

02/24/2015

Author's Note: Written for the occasion of closing the old Blue Angel Poets' Dive above Kolor, in anticipation of its re-opening in Lanestris.

Posted on 02/24/2015
Copyright © 2022 LK Barrett

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/25/15 at 02:31 AM

I was just missing you the other day, again. So good to read you once more!

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 02/26/15 at 02:06 PM

utterly fascinating and delightful fare and I would even say savory to every bud which has the privilege to taste it.

Posted by Dan Linn on 02/28/15 at 09:08 AM

Painting with poetry of passing places.

Posted by Dan Linn on 06/05/15 at 02:44 PM

On reread, what a line, "The sheer audacity of aching creativity". While we search for meaning in concrete, something beautiful happens.

Posted by Dan Linn on 06/05/15 at 02:49 PM

On reread, what a line, "The sheer audacity of aching creativity". While we search for meaning in concrete, something beautiful happens.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/12/18 at 11:11 AM

Had to come back to this., LK. There is so much fascination occurring within each stanza it marvels the heart into songburst.

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