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as a boy
Contributed by
simonwrite
on
Wednesday, 16th February 2011 @ 06:40:24 PM in AEST
Topic:
Nostalgic
|
As a boy he had aspirations
In dreams his finger-tips grazed the incandescence of starlight
Holding heat like wet clay in his palms
Molding the rungs
He would one day grasp to climb through the hole in the ceiling
As a boy
The noise creeping out his headphones
Wove visions of a world
Where silence betrayed
Sealed lips
And words could be used as currency
As a boy
He laughed
Chased dragonflies and dreams
Made hats out of newspaper
He wore crowns detailing delicious scandals
War famine pestilince and death
Hovered complacently over the birthplace of his dreams
As a boy
He claimed he could see the future
At the dining room table
Mimicking the weary eyes of a gypsy mystic
Tapping a snow globe
As a boy he watched invisible strings pull raindrops down his window sill
He would place bets with himself over which one would streak down to a moist death first
He would clean his room depending on which microchasm evaporated
As a boy those windows were mirror images of himself the day he was told to become a man
His cheeks hungrily drank the tears until they were swollen
Leaving an imprint and milky resin
He whispered to an empty room that we all have to grow up someday
As a man he looks back and laughs at it all
Chain smokes cigarettes
Won’t let anything close enough to bite
As a man his legs are broken, his knees are bad,
The noise creeping out of his headphones
Stimulate his senses
He uses it to remind himself he’s still alive
as a man he reads newspaper
chases women and money
adds a lock to his door everytime another disaster seems impending
when he was old enough, he paid good money to brand marks of his childhood
on his virgin skin
as a boy nothing really made sense
as a man it still doesn’t but he pretends it does.
Nowadays he views himself as a separate entity
Whispers to an empty room the boy received an eviction notice
packed a bag with a couple of chromosomes his favorite blanket and a peanut butter sandwich
Snuck out the window in the dead of night
And ventured in search of whatever peter pan had spoke so passionately about
Leaving 18 dollars and a note saying that was fun but lets get real
Never considering he is just an embodiment of what he once was
That he is just the most recent in a sequence of layers
And that one day soon he too would be suffocated by future thoughts and endeavors
As I change I do admit, that a part of me must die
But I will not accept the notion that I am completely wiped clean everytime I take the next step
Even white boards leave faint streaks from last weeks lesson
Now you may call me young but it still feels like I’ve lost it
I could’ve taken a wrong turn some hundred miles before albequerqe
My interpretations of cartoons led me to believe that rockos modern life was a warning against settling for middle class
And Johnny Bravo was telling me that women won’t ***** someone who isn’t educated
I would put a single “N” in my cheerios
I blame my diagnosed anxiety on
My cereal bowl screaming
Ooooooo nooooo!
While I was trying to enjoy lazy Saturday mornings
I cannot fathom continuing with this self proclaimed vacancy
There’s always been a space in me for that boy
And through transitive properties I guess for me too
So here I am
At the crossroads
Shaking hands with someone I could swear is me
And giving my farewell
Walkin away whistling to the wind
Falling deep and hard
To a time where I made hats out of newspaper
And swore I could see the future
Copyright ©
simonwrite
... [
2011-02-16 18:40:24]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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