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#218466 - 04/16/08 07:55 AM Creativity, joy, exhaustion!
dark empathy Offline

Registered: 11/26/07
Posts: 2711
Loc: durham, north england
I once owned a silver sute with rockits at my back,
With out a notion of my route I'd fly through starry black.
Upon my blazing fusion wings,
i'd play among jupiter's rings,
And ride a comit's track,

a space explorer; that was me,
A steller runner wild and free,
my playground was the galaxy,
and so I felt no lack.

a thousand thousand blazing suns, a million worlds to tread,
A stream of silver stars and words ran ever through my head,
and one of those worlds was called earth,
the wondrous planet of my birth,
And there I often sped.

to see the molten planet core,
to understand the dinosaur,
to learn more than I knew before,
to watch the shining thread.

I'd fly through steaming jungles, or glistening desert sands,
I'd see the scarlet iron dawn across the marsian lands,
I'd learn of wizards mystic spells,
I'd thrill to sounds of golden bells,
with wonder in my hands,

I'd love to learn a million names,
I'd fly my thought a thousand ways,
I'd know I could solve any maze,
My flight ever unbound.

I'd climb the towering mountains with their peaks of shining snow,
and see the vastened vista stretching like a map below,
I'd kick my jets and laugh for fun,
I'd kiss the moon and touch the sun,
I'd not be stil for need to run,
never in dark shaddow.

I'd strafe the gleaming sea at dawn,
I'd ride upon the wings of storm,
for in my sute it's always warm,
wherever I may go.

Like Icarus I fell to ground, my flight a broken dream,
And the sute which was once light as air, was bound by gravity,
and in the silver I once prized,
all I could do was run and hide,
And try hard not to scream,

Trapped in a tangled mesh of brires,
with thorns like angry ripping wires,
My mechanical joy caught fire,
I lost the golden theme.

I've partly now rebuilt my sute, but it is not the same,
I get a warning of low fuel; and can't fly far away,
Jupiters rings are out of reach,
I cannot here the magic speech,
And silver fades to grey,

And steller space is empty void,
the barren stars lack former joy,
the golden bells lie smashed, destroyed,
my sute is cold as clay.

A thousand thousand shining worlds are bound to just a few,
the blazing suns grow old and dim, in skies of faded blue,

the mysterious is common place,
I only crawl where I once raced,
My sute is broken in many ways,
I cannot now undo.

Mars is full of rocks and rust,
the shining deserts nought but dust,
On the mountains blows a gust,
If wind's cold arid truth.

Only with effort now I saw and fly among the stars,
I think about the oxegen I need on a trip to mars,

but yet I stil want so much more,
to fly as I did before,
Explore infinity oncemore,
Yet it is too far.

to have less is worse than none at all,
to be made from onhigh to fall,
and see the skies as here I crawl,
hating the bright stars.

#218544 - 04/16/08 05:31 PM Re: Creativity, joy, exhaustion! [Re: dark empathy]
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA

Originally Posted By: dark empathy
to have less is worse than none at all,
to be made from onhigh to fall,
and see the skies as here I crawl,
hating the bright stars.

In 2000 I took a bad fall and my right shoulder was crushed right back to my neck - a total loss it seemed. But it was rebuilt and repaired, and then I had to undergo physio to relearn again how to do basic things - like write and play guitar. I was numb from my shoulder on down at first, and I was devastated. These skills were too valuable to lose, so I agreed to the physio. Needless to say, I did not relearn to write the way I could before the accident, and relearning the guitar was heartbreaking. But I did it.

My handwriting still sucks, my guitar skills may never be the same, and I only have about 60% use of my arm. But I fought for all that. It has a special value to me that my earlier skills did not have.

Just thought I would share this, in case it's relevant.

Much love,

Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)

#457670 - 12/31/13 08:16 AM Re: Creativity, joy, exhaustion! [Re: dark empathy]
victor-victim Offline

Registered: 09/27/03
Posts: 6387
Loc: 𝒪 𝒦anada
I love this POEM.

this is my inner child fantasy life.

halfway through, you mentioned touching the sun, and of course I started to think of Icarus and we must be synchronized, because you mentioned him right at that moment.

beautiful images.
excellent escapism.
breathtaking scenery.

I love this poem.



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