Deep in a crack, where the floor meets the wall,
there's a path that winds back to a doorway so small
that the tiniest ant couldn't squeeze in or crawl,
but this story will walk you right through.
So, just loosen your thoughts to what comes from the reading
and try not to guess at the plot, where it's leading,
as whimsy surrounds us and logic's receding.
We're here, the way's open, let's go...
We step outo a land where minds go when they wander,
where artists employ what the daydreamers squander,
while philosophers stack thoughts like blocks, as they ponder;
all ignoring our casual stroll.
Many things are familiar, yet shifted askew.
Like, our shadows walk with us, mimicking what we do
and they constantly whisper about déjà vu,
insisting that we know the future.
The horizon's a slide show of cities and field.
As we watch them go by, fantasies are revealed.
And they lure our hearts to the pleasures they'd yield,
but that's a journey for you to write.
The reason we're here's not to find paradise
or to go up a mountain for my grand advice.
All this rhyming's a spell to coax your sacrifice.
I want space for my thoughts in your memories.
And I'll chase you all day, through what landscapes you choose,
'til, with evening, we tire and you grant or refuse
my single desire. You've so little to lose.
Let it rest, the spell is still spinning.
Looking up to the sun, it just smiles and winks.
Then it's gone and the sky holds its breath while it sinks
through a radiant spectrum to the blackest of brinks,
where it skids to a stop amid sparks.
The stars in this sky aren't like other stars.
They're an army of fireflies locked up in jars,
each containing a dream that was flung from the bars
of an imagination caged in order.
And we dance in the night, our toes tickling the grass,
throwing stones wrapped in thunder to shatter the glass.
With each burst of release, booming echoings pass
and hope's back, free to pilot the breeze.
But, as winds trade their whistle for thrashing, we stumble,
and the gusts scoop us up as the ground starts to crumble
in a great swirling storm that subsides with a mumble,
leaving me to drift in the void.
So, I've lost you, my anchor, whose eyes ruled the page.
You, who gave me a moment to soften my rage.
You were real, no mirage. I was free from the cage.
I will remember you.
My first thought about what it is you lost...is your thoughts? Am I right or wrong. Artists employ what the daydreams squander. I'm thinking that the answer is in that. Our thoughts. Love it when a question at the end makes you go back looking for the answer. I might keep looking....
Posted 2 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
2 Years Ago
Thanks for reading, William! :)
I lost the reader, you. Haha
I really like this! It had great rhythm, and impressive word choice. It felt whimsical, like Willy Wonka giving me a personal tour of a breakup. (I mean this in the best way possible.) Great, original poetry, keep writing!
I always enjoy reading your poems Matt. You're one of the few here who really enjoying Rhyming poetry and do it so well!
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Thanks, Ana! :)
Nothing new from me in a while. Haha
8 Years Ago
I noticed. Good to take breaks every so often...
You're welcome Matt.
(Welcome Mat). .. read moreI noticed. Good to take breaks every so often...
You're welcome Matt.
(Welcome Mat). :D
I bet you've heard that one before.
Anyhow, cheers.
Hope the family is well. :)
Brilliant. A true adventure of thought and thinking freely, going where the thought leads, rather than chasing it down and beating it into submission. We would all do well to let our thoughts off the leash like this. Superb.
I'm not following your meaning completely in places, but I very much admire your word-crafting & the general gist of your sentiments. The rhyme, rhythm, & word choices are very well done. Everything is original, but two things in particular show the brilliance of your ideas: "where artists employ what the daydreamers squander" . . . and . . . "this rhyming's a spell to coax your sacrifice" . . . Last but not least, I love the playful beckoning employed in the first 2 stanzas.
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Thank you for the feedback. :)
Which sections were unclear?
One aspect of your poem that's hard to follow is the use of pronouns. You start out with "you" as if.. read moreOne aspect of your poem that's hard to follow is the use of pronouns. You start out with "you" as if the narrator is speaking to the reader. Then it goes into "we" and I'm thinking this means the narrator and someone else, maybe the reader, maybe not. Later it goes back to "you" and I'm getting even more unsure of what these pronouns represent. In the middle of this, you describe things which don't require any pronoun, just "stuff" out there the narrator is observing. And finally it comes back to "we" so I'm still confused as to whether this means the narrator and the reader or the some special other. That's one part of what I don't follow clearly. But it doesn't detract from the artfulness of your writing.
The other part is stanzas 8 & 9 . . . first it's sunny, then it's night . . . all in all, beautiful imagery that's enjoyable to read, but I simply don't know how it fits into the overall message. I get a vague feeling that your words are just skipping around various aspects of the world around us, things we can light upon & ponder in words. I get that it's a little bit random & scattered in the observations. But some of your delightful meanderings are more tightly woven than others.
8 Years Ago
Thanks! :)
The "you" is you, Barleygirl. The "us" and "we" are you and me. Haha
Maybe .. read moreThanks! :)
The "you" is you, Barleygirl. The "us" and "we" are you and me. Haha
Maybe I could clear it up by starting with -
Dear Reader,
The"us" and "we" are you and me.
I tried to make this clear by the end of the second stanza. Then, in stanza three, we step together through the door to imagination land. I'll think on it, see if I can clear it up. Work work haha
I wanted the story to end in darkness, so in stanzas 7,8,9, I pushed it through day into night. I can be a scatterbrain sometimes, assuming people get what I'm saying when important pieces of info get pushed aside by other thoughts before I can get them out.
Thanks for the help. :)
I had a lot of fun writing this one. I'll see what I can do to improve it.
Busy busy :p
8 Years Ago
I didn't mean to say that it's a big enuf issue to bother with editing. It was just an offhand obser.. read moreI didn't mean to say that it's a big enuf issue to bother with editing. It was just an offhand observation that you asked me to elaborate on! I think other readers wouldn't even notice.
like going through a maze....we write and let the writing take us where it will, and as readers we need to do the same...don't try to find a certain ending, a certain way out of the maze...just feel our way through...and let the words take us where and when they will.
You're percolating my gray brain matter here. You're a mastermind at having us come along for ride. All senses are firing on full throttle pistons. Hard to imagine it all started in a mere crack! Outstanding, you're getting a whopping 100 for this escapade. Your mind is an interesting vessel which holds immeasurable creativity. Love the fireflies by the way. :)
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Thank you, Paloma! :)
I like fireflies. They are magical.
I loved the flow and rhythm of the poem. Absolutely beautiful and not sure what the inspiration was behind it but it awakens certain memories and feelings.
"Like, our shadows walk with us, mimicking what we do
and they constantly whisper about déjà vu,"
that's one of my favorites, along with how you ended the poem as well. Again, beautiful. Thank you for sharing this.
Cheers!
LIFE IS A PARTY. DON'T BE A PINATA.
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Hello,
Thanks for visiting my page. I'm Matt. I enjoy reading and writing poetry. If you have a poem that you'd like me to read, please let.. more..