He allows himself to hover
over his own racing weight.
He recalls the ease
of running effortlessly…dopamine highs.
His toes are earth-pushing landmines,
his elastic ankles are circa 1980’s,
they detonate, they are the thrusters
for rocketing tendons.
His body is as light as his deepest breath,
an endless short-fused burst of energy
sustaining effortless flight.
Then, one night
restless legs push him across
a damp mattress
he is chasing his dog
across a fast-flowing river,
the dog, a running partner
that used to run beside him.
Halfway over fast-moving water
he weakens; begins to flail
as he falls into another eddy of time.
Quizzically, the dog looks back
and sits down to wait
for 30 years,
but he never does catch up.
He weighed his mind,
it had dissolved into a tar pit
and was getting heavier.
He was thirsty, hungry to get away -
from himself.
Three shots later his eyes released him
from their deep-dug jailhouse.
Sooner than expected
the crowded bar emptied,
the saloon rocketing blindly
into a darkening planet.
Outside,
the evening was smeared with red,
low dusky lights hung like a punctured lung.
He walked one step ahead of his shoes.
Back home
he dabbed damp jowls, waiting,
for his mind to wander off
inside a humming keyboard.
Meanwhile he dripped drops
of static silence onto a word
to give it a half-life,
yet only for a moment –
it was going to be a long summer.
but oblivion was only
three shots away.
Outpouring of rain
Drumbeat my heart to supple
Rocketing my soul.
My wallet is empty of cash
When it appears which is rarely
I usually give it away
Doesn’t really matter, not really
It’s gone as soon as I get it anyway
It never lasts but that's okay
Besides, I have plenty of credit
VISA, MasterCard, Discovery
And the more I “spend”
With that lending hand
The more trust I build
Upping my score. Score!
Up the stakes, wait, change the rules?
Now, it’s me who can’t trust, who?
Sky rocketing interest rates
A debt that’s out of control
Taxing me everywhere I go
The scam’s all decorated
Beautifully choreographed
Beautifully camouflaged
All alluring, so endearing
As I assume my plastic smile
At my recently installed
Big beautiful screen on the wall.
Mary rushes to the market,
To buy biscuit, bread, butter,
Finds fabulous fare for Fluffy,
Crochety cantankerous cat of her!
Bobby loves leafing through books,
Bubbles blows bothersome brother,
Baby yells sky-rocketing loud,
Daddy hugs and kisses her!
Green grass growing gorgeous,
Georgie gladly ready to mow,
Dorothy demands dance costume,
Mommy merrily decides to sew!
Foaming water, hard to see,
raft rocketing rapidly,
constant roaring on the air,
everything soaked, toe to hair,
paddles plunge and the bow shifts
slowly through the angry mists,
shoots past rocks, and eddies white,
the river drops out of sight,
stomach lurches, I feel tall,
plunge down a small waterfall,
splash hard in a swirling pool,
spun ’round as if on a spool,
hard strokes bring a quick escape,
into safer waters break,
boys are cheering, there is that,
it was their idea to raft.
Dreaming of that special day
Rocketing high to the Moon
Exiting through the spaceship doors
At last I’ve arrived tears of joy filled my eyes
My feet are ready to step on the Moon
In fact for to stay never want to go home
Now I am here with nothing to fear
Gob smacked ‘tis me with the Man in the Moon
Written 31st May 2023
PREMIERE CONTEST DREAMING
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
A Pardon was given to two turkeys,
Joe the hunter made a blunder,
Hunter forgot his laptop,
and Joe sniffed a lot,
while both are confusing to all.
Forgetting the wondering Joe,
fell off a bike putting on a show,
as stubborn as a blue mule,
we now lack diesel fuel,
while he eats his favorite ice cream cone.
We all now are wondering about Joe
running from store to store to find,
turkeys that were not pardoned,
on Walmart's empty shelf's
Enjoy this holiday season knowing,
Two Turkeys Pardoned and flew the coop,
while Hunter Joe puts on a show,
an Easter bunny moved Joe,
as he looked for Turkey eggs,
but found the golden federal aide
Our pockets have been emptied,
Fuel flew to the moon sky rocketing,
Lights flicking with unpaid bills,
Children masked and weeping
Car charging doubling our electric bill
Life has become quite a thrill
Three shots of whisky, he was in a hurry;
sooner than expected the crowded bar took off,
rocketing blindly into a dark planet.
Outside, the evening was smeared with red sky,
a bleeding light hung like a punctured lung.
Back home
he dabbed his damp eyes, waiting,
his mind wandering thoughtless
inside a humming keyboard.
After a long inert silence
he took a 'cold one' out of the fridge -
flipped himself off.
Heavy
A mass weighs on me
Heavy clouds seeking to be free
Thick and grey the eye can not see
Flash
Rocketing streaks of electricity
Pounding bolts in a crazy spree
Uncontrollable sparks shoot from me
Fallen
Sunken low it won’t release
Smothered suffocated it cannot see
Drowned below seeking to be free
Reach
Shooting from a cloud below
High in the sky like freak show
Extended hands pushed back in row
Breath
Drops of fallen water
Tears of release that bit lighter
Dark and gloomy a little brighter
Release
Just let it go
Stop the show
Be free and grow
The tang of crowberries and storm clouds
sieved through wind and limestone
sheep’s piss and heather.
Beneath the high rock, ravens spiral,
swoop through a flying sky.
This is my land, this moment
I declare myself the very image of the One image,
magnified, upright, somewhere between
a wind-blown gnat and the rocketing reach
of a reckless God.
There she is, she’s grown beyond root and branch,
at peace despite the incontinence of an unlooked for
wisdom.
And there I am,
of a sudden snagged by her knurled spell
as if she were the Virgin Mary, and I
a stumbling beast wandering through her world.
I want to keep my silence
let only my hot breath snort
but there, on a creaky bench a crone radiates,
as a young girl would
holding her newborn joyfully up to the heavens.
I surface from my reverie, my mood rocketing upwards
to a roofless place where the ages, are all still babes
rocking in a shining crib.
Shoulders back and head high I stroll past her.
“Good morrow mother,” I say with a light-head
(the archaic phrase seems appropriate, as if now
were already tomorrow).
“Good morrow good beast, will you witness”?
“I shall,” I reply,
“for am I not almost an angel, part conjurer,
part diviner, part beatific daemon,
a human thing, growing to be ever ageless?”
Together we both laugh out loud
as children may do.
Fawning and falling, there goes your heart butting
in again. faded careworn jean jacket's pockets frayed
no longer the deep indigo to match her eyes,
daring me to swing higher than she rocketing skyward
instinct failing me., how I want it to kick in..
nothing left to say, as the day wore thin, only she knew why..
go away with me in her eyes, please stay with me in mine.
Cunning cheeks proud, tho' gaunt.., how poor she must be.
asked her when she last had something to eat
restless heart hers.., so different than any I'd ever known
only a small handbag that looked once to've been mauve
lean lesson in friendship's hardest won friend..
'cause I need her to know someone cares if only this once,
so sad to see society steal her smile away.
She'll find it again, I always hoped this for Carol..
messy bun lip glossed lips whistle at a plateless car
in yet another restless turn of the sun..
lovely loveless one that learned so much from the street
endless search for you, virtue's never ending trap for me..
There are two wings
Even to my savings
To fly far on the Sky
Rocketing
Like many other viruses, they came and they went
But this one is different on so many levels
It mutates, it breeds amidst cultural surrounds
Spreading like wildfire infused in it's revel
Once it hits you, there's simply no turning back
For it's not from this Planet we've now been informed
If you recall the lights in your skies that night
It wasn't just the weather that came with the storm
It wasn't evident when at first we became ill
Rocketing fevers, throbbing's in our heads
Which was only the start for death was to fulfil
It's tearful seeing populations in waiting dread
After a few weeks we thought we're on the turn
But inside we were melting, our organs in decline
Gone was that window that we all hoped and yearned
From notes that I'd written, the end of my bloodline.
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