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Array
(
[sid] => 164813
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => as a boy
[time] => 2011-02-16 18:40:24
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => As a boy he had aspirations In dreams his finger-tips grazed the incandescence of starlight Holding heat like wet clay in his palms Molding the rungs He would one day grasp to climb through the hole in the ceiling As a boy The noise creeping out his headphones Wove visions of a world Where silence betrayed Sealed lips And words could be used as currency As a boy He laughed Chased dragonflies and dreams Made hats out of newspaper He wore crowns detailing delicious scandals War famine pestilince and death Hovered complacently over the birthplace of his dreams As a boy He claimed he could see the future At the dining room table Mimicking the weary eyes of a gypsy mystic Tapping a snow globe As a boy he watched invisible strings pull raindrops down his window sill He would place bets with himself over which one would streak down to a moist death first He would clean his room depending on which microchasm evaporated As a boy those windows were mirror images of himself the day he was told to become a man His cheeks hungrily drank the tears until they were swollen Leaving an imprint and milky resin He whispered to an empty room that we all have to grow up someday As a man he looks back and laughs at it all Chain smokes cigarettes Won’t let anything close enough to bite As a man his legs are broken, his knees are bad, The noise creeping out of his headphones Stimulate his senses He uses it to remind himself he’s still alive as a man he reads newspaper chases women and money adds a lock to his door everytime another disaster seems impending when he was old enough, he paid good money to brand marks of his childhood on his virgin skin as a boy nothing really made sense as a man it still doesn’t but he pretends it does. Nowadays he views himself as a separate entity Whispers to an empty room the boy received an eviction notice packed a bag with a couple of chromosomes his favorite blanket and a peanut butter sandwich Snuck out the window in the dead of night And ventured in search of whatever peter pan had spoke so passionately about Leaving 18 dollars and a note saying that was fun but lets get real Never considering he is just an embodiment of what he once was That he is just the most recent in a sequence of layers And that one day soon he too would be suffocated by future thoughts and endeavors As I change I do admit, that a part of me must die But I will not accept the notion that I am completely wiped clean everytime I take the next step Even white boards leave faint streaks from last weeks lesson Now you may call me young but it still feels like I’ve lost it I could’ve taken a wrong turn some hundred miles before albequerqe My interpretations of cartoons led me to believe that rockos modern life was a warning against settling for middle class And Johnny Bravo was telling me that women won’t ***** someone who isn’t educated I would put a single “N” in my cheerios I blame my diagnosed anxiety on My cereal bowl screaming Ooooooo nooooo! While I was trying to enjoy lazy Saturday mornings I cannot fathom continuing with this self proclaimed vacancy There’s always been a space in me for that boy And through transitive properties I guess for me too So here I am At the crossroads Shaking hands with someone I could swear is me And giving my farewell Walkin away whistling to the wind Falling deep and hard To a time where I made hats out of newspaper And swore I could see the future [comments] => 0 [counter] => 78 [topic] => 44 [informant] => simonwrite [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )
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