Deep in a Crack

Its a short rhyming fantasy.

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.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think.

Reviews

[William Michael Reeves]

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....

[mattavelli]

Thanks for reading, William! :)
I lost the reader, you. Haha

[Richard🖌]

Hi, Matt!

Herein, you've freed your pen's soul to dance and soar, to sweep across and down the page, revealing the vast expanse of your imaginative, creative powers, and the result stands before us … a marvelous work most of us could only dream of producing.

Every poem tells a story of one sort or another, but it is the formation of a work that makes it a poem, and this is definitely a poem (rather than a story), composed of Tercets in mono-rhyme, each with its own uniquely original, descriptive refrain … a quite brilliant work, really … one of your (if not the) most excellent pieces from your skilled artist's hand.

Each verse stands alone as an original mini-story, captivating the reader's mind by its first line, holding attention until its revealing refrain. Flow (though, unmetered) and word choices are mostly impeccable, but I'd admonish you to take ample time with this rather amazing piece to rid the dross from some of your longer lines (such as: "couldn't" in L3 to "can't" and V2L1, lose "just", and so forth, throughout) to improve smoother cadence even more-so, in order to give this work its fair due as a virtual masterpiece, My Friend … it deserves it, it's REALLY that good.

Considering the accuracy of all the rest, I am assuming "outo" is poetic-license, and though cute, it's a stumble, a stick-in-the-eye this does not deserve, so I'd relent and replace it with "out to", "onto", or better yet, "into", for the sake of curing an unnecessary/unneeded toe stub. V3L1, omit "where". V3L2, get rid of "the" … it's a waste of wording, and again, stems flow. V4L2 is very awkward … I know you can do far better. These are merely a few examples where you can refine this splendid piece, polishing-off rough corners that keep if from its full sheen. Give each word and line throughout your very best effort, Matt … this one is more than a little special. If you're not intent on it, I'd love the opportunity to edit this one for you … just let me know. : )

There are so many exciting power lines, phrases, and verses, it seems unfair to single anything, but (for me) this really did it!

"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.
You, I will remember."

What a marvelous homage to your readers, your captivated fans, those whom come to read, respect, and revel in your amazing skills, Matt … thank you, My Friend, for the generous, thoughtful, and unforgettable recognition! ⁓ Richard


95/100
Now, go clean it up … LOL!

[mattavelli]

Hey, Richard. :)
Thank you very much for the thoughtful review and critique. I had a lot of fun writing this one. I wanted the phrasing to feel casual and bouncy. If you'd really like to edit it, I'd love to see what you'd do with it. :)

[Richard🖌]

Just a little cleanup, a littler spit shine and buff of corners here and there, Matt.
It will be a distinct pleasure, My Friend! : )

(look for a message)

[dan]

A masterful journey that the writer beckons for the readers to follow on his quest; traipsing through the magical underbrush as the writer chases the essence of one who is not identified...his muse perhaps? The reader enjoys tagging along throughout this mystical romp, reaching out for the sun and its life-giving rays.
Your rhyme scheme is done with excellence, Matt, and your word play is flawless. I am saving this to my library favorites, so thank you for that! take care...dan

[mattavelli]

Hey, Dan, thanks for the read, review, and spot in your library :)
I had a lot of fun writing this one.

[Stan Lee]

I think.... It's fantastic! The imagery takes the reader on a spectacular journey.
My favorite line was "And we dance in the night, our toes tickling the grass" Almost whimsical I guess and very attractive. Really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing. :)

[mattavelli]

Thanks, Andronicus, I wanted it to be whimsical. :)

[Stan Lee]

Bamm! you have succeeded. :)

[mattavelli]

And now that you are on my friend list, I can spam you with review requests. Muhahaha

[Stan Lee]

And vice versa. MUUhahaha

[Stan Lee]

PS. I love the photograph!

[mattavelli]

Hi :)
Thanks, my son was almost 2yrs in that photo. What are you up to?

[Stan Lee]

Your son is very cute. :)
Trying to get up to date with read requests. :) What about you?

[mattavelli]

I think I was sleeping. :p
Now, I'm waiting for my wife. We're going to a park.

[Roland Petrov]

Third word of the third verse is misspelled. So it isn't flawless after all! But it's damn close. A wonderful romp through some cracks in the mind.

[mattavelli]

Hey, Roland, thanks for reading. :)
"outo" is a word I created for this. It functions similarly to "into". When I explained to my wife the new word I'd created, she gave me the blank stare...

[Roland Petrov]

Your wife is right! If you'd written "out to", I wouldn't have complained. On the other hand, the word "into" does exist separate from "in to", so you are quite correct, and your wife is actually wrong. Oh dear, what am I saying?

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

STAND OUT LINE OF THE DAY:

"I want space for my thoughts in your memories." Absolutely stellar!

I almost skipped over this one since it was labeled as a story and not a poem, but I'm so glad I clicked to read. This has the feel of a carnival ride, with the last line causing it to come to a quick, jerking halt. Then, in the next stanza, the ride resumes; and we're off, only to come to another quickening halt. Then, the ride resumes again.

The form and structure of this poem is as important as the content itself, and both equally join hand-in-hand to create pure magic. Your picture brings to mind the words puppet master; but your words bring to mind the words poet master. Absolutely excellent!

Congratulations!

[mattavelli]

Thank you, Linda. :)
Great review! I had a lot of fun writing this one.

[Ruth]

Fabulous structure...impressive motion throughout that engages the reader from beginning to end...a triumph actually that lured me right in and absorbed me completely :)

[mattavelli]

Hi, Poppy, thanks for reading and the feedback. :)

[Emily]

Very nice wording!
Keep up the great work!!

[mattavelli]

Thanks, Emily.

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

Really good poem, Matt, great journey you have made. :) rudi

[mattavelli]

Thank you, Rudi. :)

[Roxxi]

Wow! Really beautiful poem. I love it.

[mattavelli]

Thank you, Roxxi. :)

[E G TEN]

Outstanding poetry Matt, always that memories of the yesterdays that lingers upon that is worth
All pur times and then some. Very cool thanks EG

[mattavelli]

Thanks, EG!