He talks to the void and it often listens
But it feels like there is nobody there.
So he flew to the sky and tried to say hello
Except the sky never even welcomed him home.
Unwilling Icarus,
Why do you cry?
We gave you wings, feathers glued and Stitched with loving hands.
Do not mistake the wings for cruelty.
Every knot was tied
For a good cause.
The sky calls
For someone gentle enough
To answer it.
Please.
Do not make us carry
The weight of your worry.
Do not ask us
To wear the wings ourselves.
Think of the fields below
the faces who will never know your name,
the children who will inherit
the future your ashes buy.
A handful of feathers
For a thousand futures.
A single body
For all of humanity.
That is a fair exchange,
Isn't it?
So hush your frightened heart,
Lift your borrowed wings,
And fly.
When the wax begins to weep,
When the feathers fall like snow,
Do not look back to us.
Look only toward the light.
We did not send you there
Because we wished to lose you.
We sent you because
It is for a good cause.
It has always been
For a good cause.
Rays of radiation scorch my feathers
Ultraviolet bakes me from within
Each time, I feel my breath inch closer
But the reds marks never shake me
A young man tried to scale this once
The son of Bravery and Patience
Beating rays of gleaming off-yellow
Robbed him of vision and benign skin
But you, the chain link of armor
Aids my fragile skin of low melanin
With lips of soft lotion, you whisper
Blanketing me with your soft encouragement
Cold dark eyes of determination
You curse, then grip my ivory blade for me
"She'd like a duel."
The sunlight laughs, kicks his feet to the horizon
You place one last touch to me, clearing hair from my face
It makes my bosom flutter, I rise like helium
Knife placed to the jugular of the sol
Oh, my Icarus, you know better than to do this
Basking in clusters of cancer with visual appeal
Lips curl into a smile as the wound deepens
The tsar of life recoiling at my demand
It turns its head in shame and takes back its remarks
Light concentrated in its irises turns a dark violet
And as you rush to embrace me and take me into your arms
"Night is upon us," you cry, cradling me close to your heart
What a sunny day today
We are down at the quay
Strolling our time away
Sun is joking can we flee
Up above, then we may fall
Like the Icarus who lost
To the ever burning ball
Had to pay the highest cost
Gods were then a ruling class
Helios the God
Could have enticed Icarus
With the light of gold
As he fell into the sea
No one paid attention
As the story says, but we
Know of Icarus’s action
Maybe due to some old man
Who was sitting at the quay
With his coffee, bread and jam
Noticing impassively
How the boy fell from the sky
And that man could say
What a foolish way to die
On a sunny day.
Do we not all wish to fly once as Icarus flew,
is that not we all wish for,
even if we are to fall,
do we not yern for the thrill he once felt,
the pure joy he embodied as he laughed were he should feel pain.
Why is it that we wish for this,
something that should bring fear,
yet ignites a pure unbridled excitement in those that are lost to it?
I quiver with fear.
Colors fade, weaving into a spiral of heat.
Engulfed in these flames,
unlimited power remained.
Across the Earth,
blazing through the cold sky.
I asked myself, then I asked once more,
Am I Saint or Sinner?
From the distance, sings a chorus of agony.
Corpses wanting their undying light.
As the flames subside, I can finally see.
Every soul contains a whisper of pain.
The innocent and guilty burn.
Even Death suffers.
You took me high and gave me wings —
leading me into the odyssey of dreams.
'Once you have tasted flight,
you will forever walk the earth
with your eyes turned skyward,
for there you have been
and there you will always long to return,'
wrote Mr. da Vinci (1452 – 1519).
In school I did learn
the plane truth,
and for your information,
it's a collection of spare parts
flying in close formation.
And was it not Icarus in his day
who, in so many words,
was first heard to say,
"Flying is for the birds!"
For now,
call me Icarus,
for in loving you
I attempted to kiss the sun.
It may be one of the most poetic ending of all
Icarus’ fall, that is
Stupid, prideful Icarus
The boy who flew too close to sun and expected not to burn
He learned that things can be beautiful
But intangible and fatal
Everyone talks about his death
How greedy he must be to have the opportunity to fly but give up on a wistful whim
But they forget his joy
For Icarus laughed as he fell,
teeth barred to the world as they say
Maybe everyone saw him fall
But in his mind he always flying
Even as the melted wax scorched his skin
His wings, poetically enough, prevented him from swimming to save his life
Even though, it is still the undeniable fact that Icarus Flew
I’d call him a lucky bastard
While you’d call him a fool
And there is a possibility that I am wrong
For another fact is that he is dead
But that matters not to him
For, you’re not in hell if you like the way it burns
Like Moses in the desert, I have wandered.
My destination nowhere in my sight.
I’m searching for the joy I have been promised
But hampered by the seeming lack of light.
Like Icarus of old, I am a pris’ner.
I’m chained here to the ground by gravity,
And haunted by the things I can’t accomplish,
The dreams of places I will never be.
Like Samson, I’ve felt utterly defeated.
It’s hard to trust that there’s a higher plan.
I fear giving in to mediocrity.
That where I’ll always be is where I am.
Like Hercules, I’ve had my many labors.
I’ve known my share of failure and success.
So many tests still waiting in my future,
And many miles to go before I rest.
Like everybody else, I have been wounded,
But deep down I am proud of every scar.
For each one tells me I am making progress
Although it seems I haven’t traveled far…
But there’s nothing else to do but move forward, step by step.
So, hand over hand I will climb.
I know it’s true that I may never reach my horizon
But I can leave where I am behind.
All it takes is effort and some time.
I've heard people fall in this ultimate madness called love
But I fly
I fly higher and higher
And as I fuel my strength,
I make you my wings
The elite wings that even Icarus could not afford
For I surely know you will never melt
For I surely know you will never let me fall, ever...
Quietly without a sound
From the sky he spirals down
Tail on fire and broken wing
Demons laugh, no Angels sing
Earlier his flight begun
Flying high to tempt the Sun
In his ears those words would ring
Father can't know everything
Downward, downward, as he must
With a thud he hits the dust
Heaven sighs, no bells will ring
Angels cry and Demons sing
Though at first terrifying,
no denying:
dancing on a wheel
makes it feel
like I am flying.
An aside, for what it’s worth:
unbridled mirth
turns disenchanted
supplanted
by crashing to earth.
----------
A Streambed Quintet, two or more stanzas of 7a:4a:5b:3b:5a
In a house, half-mad, with mother and dad,
And a labyrinth he couldn’t escape -
He trudged the maze, with a string ball, so sad.
The sky’s warm, gay orb, too, was round in shape.
So pretty was she, he dreamt as he marched,
And he constructed a bright plan in his head,
Sweating through shirts which his mother had starched,
He remembered what his father had said.
He would see his girl (the sun in the sky).
Augmenting his arms with two waxen wings,
A catapult shot him o’er clouds so high.
He burned, melted, crashed, his arms then in slings.
Dad said, “too close”, but his expounding lacks -
It was - his wings were inferior wax.
In the nighttime hours
As the world deftly creeps by
I summon my powers
Spread my wings and fly
Past cotton clouds,
Snow-capped mountains, white
I am lost and I am found
I am beauty and blight
Past the midnight chimes
A soul searching for home
Tangling myself in rhymes
So as to not feel alone
Catch the updraft of hope
Friendship sun on my face
My place in this world in scope
Loathing, with love replace
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