Happy Thanksgiving

May we all be thankful for who and what we have. And remember those who have not or who are unable to be with their families and friends. God's peace be with them, and with us all. 

As My Bugle Gently Weeps (11/22/63)

a moment of silence,

for a moment

I will not forget;

for a man,

I will not forget;

I stand,

with eyes closed

and lips slightly pursed,

I raise my bugle,

to emit

one last goodbye;

trying to be still,

trying to be calm,

I choke on a note,

as a tear

falls

from my horn.

© 2013 Joseph Powell

Strange Fruit (Class of 2013) - Jasiri X

Blue Is The Magic Number

though I’m not one to adhere to,

or be defined by, labels;

nor inclined to be fitted into certain parameters;

if you were to press me,

or choose to dig down,

to my very essence,

to the core of who I am--

you would find

that blue

is my favorite color;

the color

that inspired rhapsodies

and baseball teams;

it is the signifier of a particular mood,

the foundation

of nearly every musical genre

on this planet,

which,

if the pictures from space

are to be believed,

is also blue;

it is the color of harmony--

if you don’t believe me,

imagine our country’s flag without it;

could be one of the reasons,

why we’re called the United States

(could you imagine if we

were only made up of

only red states?);

blue

is the color of life;

it is

the color of God’s glory,

one of the primary colors

in His divine palette;

blue

is the color of this poem,

if its words

could be enveloped

in any particular color,

each letter,

a different shade

or variation

of indigo,

sapphire,

jade,

azure--

even those words

make blue sound beautiful,

which it is.

I give you

blue,

which is,

in a sense,

giving of myself;

and I hope,

that you will accept it,

in the spirit

of which it was given,

which is also

blue.

© 2013 Joseph Powell

Joseph Powell-Poetry Open Mic @Priscilla's-Toluca Lake