View From the Blue Room ~ Main Street
The sunlight filters through a century of dust
caught within the imperfections
of a lead glass window
much like all the thoughts
that attempt to catch up to me
at end of day...
is it any wonder I think I'm losing my mind?
he flies by on a skateboard
first red, then blue
then the yellow of yesteryear
passing each colored pane
as though he is carving his way through my history.
I raced like that once
on my uncle's banana board
back when I believed I could do anything
and even scraped and bloody knees wouldn't stop me
I really did believe it!
is it any wonder I'm so pissed off?
I feel as though the entire world has evolved
just to prove my incompetency...
every mistake, every blunder
imprinted at the front of my eye
leaving me forever looking through it
but never figuring anything out
distorting my entire impression
of what I want, who I am
There used to be so many things
alas...my list grows ever shorter
and we've not accomplishment to blame.
Here come's another one
She's been walking this same stretch of Main Street
every night, at the same time, for twenty years
She was there when I left
and here she is again at my forced return.
That scares me...right down to my bones
How the hell am I supposed to change anything
knowing my prison will always be waiting?
View at From The Blue Room by Natasha Head
It's OpenLinkNight at dVersePoets where Joe Hesch has been charged with manning the pub. Hope to see you there!
caught within the imperfections
of a lead glass window
much like all the thoughts
that attempt to catch up to me
at end of day...
is it any wonder I think I'm losing my mind?
he flies by on a skateboard
first red, then blue
then the yellow of yesteryear
passing each colored pane
as though he is carving his way through my history.
I raced like that once
on my uncle's banana board
back when I believed I could do anything
and even scraped and bloody knees wouldn't stop me
I really did believe it!
is it any wonder I'm so pissed off?
I feel as though the entire world has evolved
just to prove my incompetency...
every mistake, every blunder
imprinted at the front of my eye
leaving me forever looking through it
but never figuring anything out
distorting my entire impression
of what I want, who I am
There used to be so many things
alas...my list grows ever shorter
and we've not accomplishment to blame.
Here come's another one
She's been walking this same stretch of Main Street
every night, at the same time, for twenty years
She was there when I left
and here she is again at my forced return.
That scares me...right down to my bones
How the hell am I supposed to change anything
knowing my prison will always be waiting?
View at From The Blue Room by Natasha Head
It's OpenLinkNight at dVersePoets where Joe Hesch has been charged with manning the pub. Hope to see you there!
Comments
i had my midlife crisis on my 29th birthday... faced with all i had NOT accomplished. for years i was in a prison of my own making. i can't focus on that anymore, instead trying to just appreciate the journey.
i especially love
"much like all the thoughts
that attempt to catch up to me
at end of day..."
♥
just to prove my incompetency...
that resonates....good stuff
somehow we just keep going, keep living with the questions, the prison is all an illusion...
you are always free to fly...
I feel as though the entire world has evolved
just to prove my incompetency...
Sometimes it gets really irritating, too. ;_)
Very strong and engaging narrative, complemented by a terrific read.
loved this...as always never disappointed great work
I was a builder. Only one building, ever did I construct--the prison into where I locked myself.
I pause here, during this comment--
OK. Must tell you that this moved me as I followed right along, give-or-take those twenty years.
GOOD writer, you!
PEACE!
Excellent as always <3
say themselves out loud! I like the perspective of
how people can get stuck & not really grow. We can become our own prison ~ stuck in an unmoving world. So true ~ when we shrink our world away from others ~ you my dear are a most excellent poet!!
Really well written - a tale of self with your world wrapped inside.
"he flies by on a skateboard
first red, then blue
then the yellow of yesteryear
passing each colored pane
as though he is carving his way through my history.
I raced like that once"
I haven't had a chance to listen to the audio track yet but have you book marked to return...send you well sister! ~ Rose
as though he is carving his way through my history.
... those are great lines!