Open Poetry #29 |
Ambitious in Design |
LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Sometimes it just tempts people to catch it, Walking along in sneakers, quiet, This distinctive rearrangement Gathering dusk’s weightless balloons Reaching a state were nothing seems real Putting some effort into answers personable With great forearms which reassure This letter writer speaks of doing it all Of things that only sun and time surfboard celestial Holding hostage the squalls With a tangle of baby-blue knitting, suckling, Nudging deep plush ivory arm chairs, while Talking with a slanting resolve, asking “You’re Expecting Something?” Their voices taken very clear. Anonymous sounds that drift into twilight Strolling under someone’s window Recording upside down people Sitting like humans in a theater “I really believe they’re running… From other people’s notions of their faulty self” Then, stand up, taking a few steps onto emerald grass Leaning towards a secret purpose, which nobody looks like. Standing there waiting, waiting, with backs to good-byes Crossing ankles, drawing sentences in our mind. “We have been traveling for years, and we can’t stay In one place, but must share expressions of surprise As if your wondering how we’ve got here, borrowing medals From the cosmos, hugging therapeutic things, way across the galaxies What things were a little complicated on account Have fallen down and dried into a vast array of Silken arrangement, hibiscus, jasmine and roses Garlanded with baby’s breath…….. Not looking up, but whirled around with Muscular hands, lighting little yellow lamps There, floats spiritual fireflies with uncertain expressions And eyes not so much blue, as transparent… Seeing right through the darkness, like silhouettes Saying…. “Do you recognize me?” they inquire rather childlike while Gathering sightseeing brochures Pulling logical sounds from the night’s pregnant warm mouth. “Let me tell you, we were very quiet”, they sang, “but planned” “Think about it?” “Why don’t you just let go?” And, as promised, mist, simply sifted in like happiness with Distinctive features, painting a soft wardrobe with clothes For my blushing naked, yet willing flesh. “Unlimited the way was, joining in this summer evening sound, Which hung on and on” sprawling out on the shoulder of a couch Like mauve hued endless skies, puffing balanced bulletin boards Showing the way….. “Look here, take my picture”, pausing with a backward glace Let’s watch a soft whiteout begin! Becoming energetic expressions Joining any choices, sliding scenery right underfoot, those busy Little fireflies with antidotal mischievous thoughts. “But then, whom Am I to judge?” my mind smiled, while flying through the air Weightlessly holding a million tiny hands…we giggled in thought Rising and gliding faintly into a star-filled blue wonderland With swift stairs pouring out, a happy childhood rolling groceries Into my invisible home, filling my counters, refrigerator, you name it! And I thought…. Where life grows to be dreams…fading little sketches of themselves Drifting to be caught by the edge of promises…well! They assuredly Kiss us, slowly unfolding and driven more intense All you got to do is fill your mind with a sheet to fit it, And with the sound of music…. I’d always been the kind to spend what I got when I got it And I wasn’t sorry… Nor did I borrow much from friends…friends who’d always seem To have places to go and people to meet, although never left behind, I opted for the library door, right outside my window Being born right here, and all. These eccentric places, making me see the softer eyes of Something simpler, yet more…well, specifically, more pulling, Like an invisible gravity ever present, just nudging you towards What you didn’t know anything about, but knew was there. There, adventure was all things wickedly unexpected yet good. Where everything is realized while waiting for the train of Feathered boats, finding birthday cakes, middle-aged varicose veins Waiting their turns…. Fastening down the embers of self-consciousness and the simplest trip For new shoes and a girl’s photo….mine Releasing me in some way, allowing me to step back to a reasonable Distance where unhampered views position themselves, oh maybe a bit tangled, But… Unaltered, just the way their supposed to be…yet ancient in air… Where nothing moves for a very long time… And the child who fell and cried, was now craving for some food Out of season and way to expensive, but what the heck, you only live once Right? So I go and check my room I study with a brimming smile, while sorting my bureau drawers Totally unaware of the goings on outside, nor did it perchance me to care As there may be some things I want burned, keeping only those Things which match my eyes…no matter how old they are, To me, they are flawless and have been handed down for centuries. Keepsakes is what humans call them. Tall dark and thin, my childhood eyes raised up to the flurry of innovations Where I believe a single petal dances at dinner parties, from one end of The cosmos to the other… Hugging feelings passed onto trading glances of life… Did you ever wonder why a dog circles before laying down? It’s always right There with him…the dog, I mean…in his mind…. Anyway, there, giant hollyhock plays hostess linking every sacred moment To one another, understanding the velvet rose fastened to our bosoms. Soaking right alongside of afternoons, rinsing heavy glass negatives Under running water, splashing right across reflections of time. Can you see It? “Oh how we manage to escape the outside world”! I warmly thought, “We, writers of words”… We see, feel and touch…such earthly possessions while sipping down life, Content with this celestial navigation, with our acorns gathering closer And all our ducks in a row… All plump-faced, with the camera moving in, and up another summit we go Traveling a corridor of private, sacred weather, though portals… Urging us to wind our clocks…backwards if we must…for a time. With words from outside the world…drumming a kindness of heart, beating & Growing evermore fond of perception, and dancing at the Sophomore Prom of Tomorrow’s travel…balanced…or so we believe, but do we really know, honestly? In a world where love is moved by thought…and to, right Where our church lives, inside our vestibule, of something invisible Always there waiting…and it’s so God awful kind, caring, trusting, with a heart Of it’s own, waiting, beating for the breath of hope…that all will see Sometimes it just tempts people to catch it, Walking along in sneakers, really quiet |
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© Copyright 2003 Lee J. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
LeeJ, I do not know the subjugation of your youth but I have a touch of the results. Your acceptence is within but your bouquets are beautiful. |
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Kellie_Cantrell Senior Member
since 2002-05-22
Posts 1667New York |
Very nice write. Keep up the good work Love, |
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