by Darryl Price
Don't sleep. Tiny orange
Balloons like seahorses are bobbing
This way and that trying
To get your hair to lift
Off its marvelously mud-
Swamped pillowy support beams blue sea strand by green sea strand.
Don't you want to see that happening? Don't sleep. I want to hold
You and look into your fabulous swirling
Eyeballs. Curtains are busy
Blowing musical notes
Right through the walls like rain.
That chair you mistrusted and
Its sinister lamp are mashing all
Your stuff together in
To one big dumpling on the floor. Don't sleep!I want to show you how
Two little sparrows are
Struggling to squeeze your fingers
Into a nest. Don't
Sleep. I want to kiss you so badly right now I'm willing to let go of all these precious little words for soft and hard.
Many sprung green things are
Flirting with the bedposts.
Don't. It's snowing. The house,our house, did you know that it
Is already covered up everywhere up to its locked windows in a fluffy white and flying fur?
And gone? Completely? Help! We've disappeared from all known regions of time and space! I want you to
Say my name. I'm confused.
Move over. Let's make us.
Busy. But then so is life when you get right down to it.
That's all (there is to say).
So far YOU don't want to
Be the next one bitten by
The nasty shark because
YOU happen to be the
One swimming within its
Plenty toothy reach . Some
Surf right over top that
Monster's fat head without
One drop of blood being
Spilled between them. Most will
Never know just how close
On a daily basis
The countdown spoon comes to
Lifting them towards the
Greedy gums that will seal
Their final approach. Point
Is what goes on must go
On unless we change what
Goes on. You start. Them's the cosmic
Rules. Nothing survives still
Waters. But just you start to dance.
And signals from as far
Away as the one and only forgotten moon begin
To rattle back and
Forth. Words are finally formed. Hairs vibrate beautifully swaying sensuously to the savage beat.
Heads are lifted from their slumbers in dark herds. Smiles
Break the surface of the
Faces like air porpoises
Intent on sensing what
Everything feels like when
You believe anything
Is possible. And it is, it
Really is. That's your choice to make, while
Mine's always been to be with you.
have to slug it out
with the whole world. Everyone says
they are for that love but they lie. No one wants
to believe anyone else could find it, what they could not.
Just not possible. No one could try harder than me?Yeah well
you'll see when love finds you home alone. You won't see it coming. It's
not something you can just plant
and grow just because you have
the land. Strangely enough it
can sprout up just about anywhere and
from anything. It can come out of a look given on
a passing piece of sunglass. You never know. In the meantime
we pretend to have it in our pockets like a good
old sturdy assed plastic comb. All you have to do is simply
reach for it. The lie
perpetuates itself .Everyone agrees it works out fine so it does.
But young lovers are shunned, disbelieved,
and finally dismissed. They are
treated as children in danger of becoming swallowed by waves too
huge to imagine. How could these kind eyed strangers have found
the beautiful fountains and not shared its location with all of
us? It's selfish. Self serving at best. So unfair. Lucky bums need
their priorities set straight. Oh
we'll see to it for them.
All rights reserved.
It's the damnedest thing. After putting up what I considered my masterpiece,Bleeding the Words,and getting only one lone response to it, I decided to go simpler and more to the vest with my next poem,Awaken Sleepy Star, and BANG! just like that the lake suddenly had many nibbling fish in it.