I am continuing my colour series this week (I got rudely interrupted by black) with the colour blue.

So far I’ve written ‘letter to colour’, then ‘black’, ‘the battle of black and colour’ and ‘red is the colour’.

blue

today
there are no clouds
to mask the breathing space,
the sun, manic and playful
holds my chin roughly,
forcing my face
to the sky,
look up
animate those dark eyes
break open your gaze,
look up
above the grey tree line,
above the uniform boxes people exist in,
above the forlorn, thin wires
hanging between haggard timber poles,
conducting a well worn tale
of power and currency,
thin wires that
swing ever so slightly
in a quiet breeze
tinged with the residue
of a cold winter,
look up
see this blue sky, so famous
this blue
will never be captured in paint,
never with stage-managed words,
look up
you need eyes
and a luminous heart,
to capture the real blue,

38 thoughts on “blue

  1. Lovely poem Gabrielle!

    There’s nothing quite like a bright blue sky to ‘open’ possibilities, minds and hearts … the sky was a wondrous colour today (I love this time of year).

  2. It seems like your summer blue is better than the one in Israel; the hotter it gets the dustier the sky is, and actually most of the summer the sky are just not so nice.

    (Have you read My Name is Red?)

  3. You have the ‘luminous heart’ and the eyes and to see the real ‘blue’ no words can describe nor paint capture, but you also to see the spoiler in the ‘forlorn wires’ ‘conducting a well worn tale
    of power and currency’. That made me sit up!
    Can’t wait to put in another solar panel and unplug shore power forever! 🙂

  4. It’s true isn’t it Gabrielle? Nothing human beings can construct will ever violate the beauty of the big blue tent. It may not be captured in paint, but sure has been captured in verse my dear 😉 Wonderful!

  5. Just came back from a great walk, with that kind of sky. Must be a bunch of us walking around with our heads raised high this week, taking it all in. Thanks for the lovely poem.

  6. The blue that will never be captured in paint is such an incredible image for me. I often look up at the blue sky and wish I could paint it. Only the most talented of painters could capture it and even then it just wouldn’t be the same. A wonderful poem.

  7. PAINT AS IT COMES

    There’s no real blue
    Out of your eyes
    So it does not need
    To be captured
    As it has no known owner
    Except a magical look
    Mostly used as a hook

    There’s no real blue
    Especially when blue
    Is just a glimpse of green
    Like a shade of purple
    Covering a full light
    Among the limbs
    Of a solitaire tree

  8. dear gabrielle,

    i love the divine beauty of your words. i just believe that this is you, in the purity of your solitude and fluidity of your thoughts. it is not everyday you can come accross with the majesty of inner peace such like this. excellent!

  9. What a fabulous poem. Everything about it contributes to the whole effect. One has always thought that we should look more at the sky, and now to find you saying this, and I have never heard it expressed as beautifully as here.

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