little puffy crowds

what i see are little puffy crowds

emanating smooth blue rays,

somebody has painted my sky,

and, a plane has just flown on by,

the r a y s have shifted,

for my sun is setting,

shifting before my eyes,

blue rays,

painted on the sky,

i never knew the sun could be so blue,

their flowing up, up and away,

and i realize, soon the sky will be black,

do you too,

see the colors of the sky ?

different shades of blue,

all for you,

. . . .blue, too much of a beau,

the purple clouds, the white rays,

a helicopter flys beneath

the crowds have begun to glow and grow

purple and red,

little white rays, shining above,

i did not know of the sun’s white light,

a little cloud in the middle

a fish on legs,

the one


turning purple,

and a glowing white craft has just flown on by,

i’d tell you it’s a plane, but that would be a lie,

a little puff has broken off

far from the big purple fog below,

it is glowing red, this fish with legs

now, a man playing ball,

violet rays,

to think i never knew of the sun’s violet arms,

i wonder,

what colors still await,

by Jove! i see the ancient gods,

in my own sky, too – and to think,

i too once thought the ancients mad,

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten little black birds fly on by,

and what is this? blue crowds before my eyes,

i wonder,

who painted the crowds before my eyes,

smoke! my dears

Blue Smoke! emanating from my neighbors house in the form of a cloud,

i wonder,

what shape the crowds will take on next

while yet another Helicopter flies on by,

and the light! the glowing white sphere,

has once more become a firefly



Buzzing Sound! sitting in the pear tree,

i did not know the bugs could be so LOUD

Louder than PlanesHelicoptersandCarsCombined!

dark blue crowds upon a velvet light blue sky,

i never knew there to be so many blues,

haven’t you ever watched the sky unfold ?

yet another helicopter flies on by,

all in one direction, all in one line,

i wonder,

how many more will pass me by,

the light blue is turning purple,

and the fountain,

in my neighbors yard is Splashing and Crashing silver light,

they speak italiano,

their speech, calmer than before,

i wonder,

what are they speaking for ?

Louder they speak, as a neighbor’s bedroom sparks a dim yellow glow

and another helicopter flies on by,

this one, stinging my mind with bright, red and white stars,

Naaaaa my italian friend disagrees,

the crickets are cracking,

and the man let’s out a moan aww it’s a country club here

they all YELL in italiano,

i wonder,

why do they not be still,


my beating breath thrown off rhythm,

i wonder,

why do they not be still!

insults, chatter, endless chatter,

all four voices in italiano



the woman yells back,

two lit up helicopters fly on by, two directions,

i wonder if they said hi but theyalreadypassedmeby,

a plane, with glaring white pebbles on it’s wings, passes by,

the crickets still cracking,

[i][size=75]my life would have been the poem i would have writ,

but i could not both live and utter it[/size][/i]–

Thoreau yells out to my delight while a helicopter passes on by,

my right knee shakes my peace disturbed,

Oh, i wonder,


were u shrooming?

Nope. In fact, I was completly sober sitting in my backyard reading the New York Times Magazine last Sunday afternoon, when suddenly, I became acutely aware of the colors in the sky. . . well, I recorded my observations and wala – poetry. I only changed two things for artistic quality, crowds for clouds, and I added the man “mews” part for alliteration (though, I don’t like it, and am looking to change this word – suggestions always welcome). And the crickets “cracking” is also artistic, i was writing so fast that I couldn’t find the right words to immitate the sound I heard, but I don’t think it’s too bad – I kind of like the surreal flair actually.