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Array ( [sid] => 48915 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => ashes [time] => 2004-05-24 14:06:03 [hometext] => scared of losing everything. [bodytext] => Sitting awkwardly on my extrovert seat
I try to hide in my hair
Dreamy but low
I consider grabbing a flake of warm ash that is floating through the air
To get back to the current
To drift back up to the birds
No such luck
They dropped me here for a reason
But I rarely see it
I'm wary of loving anything,
In case it gets uprooted
and tossed on the fire
By those strange unfamiliar hands
I observe them closely
Scraping, ripping, tearing, lighting, ageing,
Cracking up
My favourite branches, my favourite blossoms
Hit me,
Grey in the face. Then peel away
Smoking, crumbling...
Dying, and there's nothing I can do
I want my bird to come
On an early evening whim,
Swoop and save me
Shelter me under his wing
Stop all this.
He understands.
The hands don't. And I hate them for it.
Maybe I'll remember how to fly again
before
it's too late.
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 221 [topic] => 48 [informant] => dolly_dagger [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

ashes

Contributed by dolly_dagger on Monday, 24th May 2004 @ 02:06:03 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

Sitting awkwardly on my extrovert seat
I try to hide in my hair
Dreamy but low
I consider grabbing a flake of warm ash that is floating through the air
To get back to the current
To drift back up to the birds
No such luck
They dropped me here for a reason
But I rarely see it
I'm wary of loving anything,
In case it gets uprooted
and tossed on the fire
By those strange unfamiliar hands
I observe them closely
Scraping, ripping, tearing, lighting, ageing,
Cracking up
My favourite branches, my favourite blossoms
Hit me,
Grey in the face. Then peel away
Smoking, crumbling...
Dying, and there's nothing I can do
I want my bird to come
On an early evening whim,
Swoop and save me
Shelter me under his wing
Stop all this.
He understands.
The hands don't. And I hate them for it.
Maybe I'll remember how to fly again
before
it's too late.

Copyright © dolly_dagger ... [ 2004-05-24 14:06:03]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: ashes (User Rating: 1 )
by lostinmyself on Monday, 24th May 2004 @ 02:10:09 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

beautiful and sad. i love it. such desperation. a great, emotional write. *hugs* phil xxx

Re: ashes (User Rating: 1 )
by Silent-No-More on Monday, 24th May 2004 @ 02:26:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Incredibly well done! I think I know this feeling... and... how hard it is to know what to do with it. My recent writes are full of the same. Even if it makes sense only to you - a poem can stand on it's own... and this one does. It stands strong and moving. Powerful.

Thank you for sharing this!

Re: ashes (User Rating: 1 )
by secretwind on Monday, 24th May 2004 @ 02:33:34 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Me thinks you fly quite well...love the screen name.

Re: ashes (User Rating: 1 )
by ladyfawn on Monday, 24th May 2004 @ 04:40:04 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

very pretty:) hugs n' love nessa

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