this is the more permanent side of "temporary loss of cabin pressure"
and maybe i don't want to swim today. that orange vest won't keep
our hopes afloat - swim for the sharks, sink for the treasure
at the bottom of the sea.
and when they come in great machines;
downdraft making waves amongst the dead, will we cry?
our salty tears to the salty ocean
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I wanted you to call me again
I wanted to kiss you
Kissing you gave me butterflies
in my tummy
I would have fed you peach melba and ginger bread men
I would have played Chopin for you
by candlelight
But you didn't call
So
The gingerbread men will eat
the peach melba
Chopin will blow out the candles
and I
will kiss butterflies
in the dark
- l. c. lanoway
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5 comments:
That last comment was not me, by the way. I liked the spacing. And the poem! Your bit and your mum's! My only objections come when your ideas get ahead of your spelling.
By the way, the words I sent you the other day were written specially you. I was attempting to write a poem to go with your parade. Clearly it turned out to be nothing of the sort, so I didn't post it. But if the right sort marches along, I'll post it in comment form for you.
-Alexa
Also, this part:
downdraft making waves amongst the dead, will we cry?
our salty tears to the salty ocean
reminded me of this:
Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
-King Richard III, act 1, scene 3.
I liked the sound of it, awful though he dreams. Perhaps you will like it too.
-Alexa
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