.
i crossed thuh
um
writer
who'd uh thunk
i'd
shake
squirm in mine
what
the ballast uv mine
where mine rrrse 'tiz
settled
giving mine duke's digits
freeness
explicating
whilst sat in
mine firm
cathedra
here you are
"Fear"
yourn wordy
mistake
Thump
Rrrrr
;|
*For thuh poet who apologized
to thuh one who iz lie'n 'neath
mine feet
never apologize to a lead balloon
')
You could hear the sounds
of sideshow alley blaring out
from a mile away. The hollow,
metallic rasp of music
and glow of coloured lights rose
in a huge bubble
above the beach.
Adolescent dreams
would flutter the warm summer
evening like a mindless moth
revved up on hope. The clang
and clatter of rides, the yells
and excited screams sprayed out
of a whirling blur of lovely faces
wound your inflamed passions
ever tighter. The telepathic
signals you sent out
to catch an eye scarcely scored
a glance. Then poised on a chance,
your brain would freeze and hang
on your tongue like a lead balloon
leaving you gasping for air,
a hundred words away
from ruby lips tired of waiting
to blow you up.
Alone, at the end of the jetty,
all you could do was to let
the wind billow out
a swollen bag of unspoken words
and send them off winged
with a foolish hope. And then,
the long walk back, the sound
of sideshows subsiding
into the sad lament
of breaking waves, the smell
of urine soaked sand
wafting up from below
the boardwalk, the weighted
solitude of the bus ride home.
It's pretty fast
unless you are balloon or a feather,
speedy, especially if you are drugged up on painkillers
and have imbibed a few glasses of Pinot Noir
then gravity is faster than a classic corvette
stuffed full of classified documents.
Otherwise it's hard to measure
but in my case
it's about 5'11" and flapping.
I may resemble a lead balloon at such times,
but I'm okay.
if i were an astronaut adrift in space
I would be orbiting my own brain
wondering
what the hell Einstein meant.
Back on earth I am kissing carpet.
I just can't do the gravity-math,
but when the floor hit my face
I cussed-out all modern day physicists
and their impossibly confusing theories.
I am taking 'Red Bull' today, straight from the can
and hope to be lighter than air
any time soon.
I will still be here waiting
Long after time is called
And every opportunity has been spurned
Because at this moment
I am so endlessly tired
Find myself craving sleep
And in need of a break
Some precious rest
Or merely a change
And if that doesn't come anytime soon
I am eventually going to be forced
into letting go of the string on my
lead balloon
And embrace another impending doom
way after noon when I finally stir and
try my level best to awaken
To the impending sunset followed by
perennial darkness eminating from
my black tar molasses heart and soul
For I am he who for who the Midnight
Christmas Mass Bell's Toll
Imagine building a planet
One 5 litre tub of cement at a time
she was an ordinary gal
Who did extra ordinary things
There before is the key to the future
Do we take it or live in the past?
I've so many disappointments
You're not one of them
Was living there an error?
Or a blessing in disguise
Nice boss lays you off at Xmas
Pop by with an M-16
The correct 3 hotel hours
With a certain person
I feel them near me
They sent something to the sky
My past a lead balloon frees me
Always never there
When you've lived a life like mine
You feel the way I do
It's cool shooting people with lasers
Watching them melt before you
I keep messing up,
what is this recipe
to my true destiny?
Like a lead balloon
in the blue lagoon,
sinking fast to my own
doom. Yet I glance to
the surface, captivated
by a shimmering sun.
Somehow I break my
bonds and strife. Breaking
the surface with a gasp of
new life.
When my spirit was fogged in gloom
After i impacted concrete; like a lead balloon
It lifted my strength as I started to write
Of a beautiful girls toy; on its maiden flight
Intended for a contest by souper trouper P D
But I wrote it wrong in "form" if you look you'll see...)
Yet on its immersion in "the soup" I felt satisfied
It seemed to numb the pain; i had been feeling inside
Its not winning or losing while on "the soup"
Though neither string bean; or minestrone (i feel) in "the loop"
There are many places to spend a while,
But the "draw" for me is "the soups" unique flavor & style
It has content..) that's peaceful, stimulating; its fine"
Yet words versus" its essence is exercising my mind,
Let its writers and their themes be the answer to why
I extol "the soups" virtue; that's my definitely my very best try.!
Copyright Joe Maverick 2012
in support of Carol Browns what you love about "the soup"
amended 19 02 2012.
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