The Fall
Tic, tac, I’m waiting to hear
Ti, ta, my hands shake with the beat
A relapse of this self-produced Parkinson.
------I finally hear something beautiful
My toes curl up and down and dance to the music.
I float away and see my shoes from above
My hair dances to the beat and the room grows smaller
As I fly away into space
I see the same things over and over and over and over
Little, burning, british styled cottages
What is it I’m waiting to see?
I dive into a cloud in search of what I know I will not find
My back aches as I reach for that I don’t know what;
I think I’m getting closer.
Over over here the air seems to be sweater
That, I think, is a sign I’m near.
It’s grimy, I’m flying on my tiptoes now. Tiptoes.
A ghost of sugar approaches me, with the sun as a head
I follow its finger and its mysterious direction and swim away
There! I’ve seen it! My heart takes the melody over
It is me who commands the tune! Pom-pom, pom-pom…..
As I grasp it I wait and wait and linger and remain
For the explosion.
I don’t know what to expect, its wrapping so beautiful!
From here, I Jazz my way down and fall back into this painful black shoes
But all is better now;
I Samba the day with a smile smudged on my features
I know there is Salsa in this world!
Then I walk down the street, moving my body
The Polkaing fingers won’t stop
They’ve been accelerated:
Tra la la la.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
