Lost in thought
I drift with a
Red Balloon
Through the clouds
Of your conscience.
Passing memories
On my journey,
I water the forest
With fresh tears.
Remarking how beautiful
Trees
Look when they
Regrow.
You used to tell me
I’d become nothing.
That I won’t do it,
I can’t imagine it;
That the world is
Too cruel for
Uninspired ventures.
You shoot me.
Bust my bubble.
I fall into the
Weak hands of
A distressed Earth.
She catches my heart
As it falls from
Sleeves
Breaking as it drops.
No one saw me fall.
As it should be.
I’d spend
A lifetime
Lost so deep in
Thought
That the whole world could
Search
For centuries
And never find my tracks.
Sucked into
A self-created
Blackhole.
I cannot measure up
Or down.
Is it too deep to escape?
There must not be sunshine
In my cavern of flesh and bone.
I love the "cavern of flesh and bone," but I think you can do without "bust my bubble," unless it has deeper significance than that of the expression itself.
ReplyDelete(re)reading all of these chronologically, it strikes me how much deeper your imagery has become since we first started trading stanzas :)
Bust my bubble refers to the deflation of red balloon, and is a way of saying that my inspirations died by another's actions. And yes, deeper.. or more mystique. I prefer vagueness to blunt. I think words can easily conceal. So I prefer to be secretive.
ReplyDeleteOh, I know you do :) I do like the significance of that, now that I understand it. I always enjoy walking through the layers of meaning in your poems. Every time, it seems,there is another story being told.
ReplyDelete