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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 23765
Category:
personal_life
Posted: August 18th. 2006 1:50:28 PM
Views: 1165 |
the time will come
by Arianna Pendragon
Age Group: Adult
your breath will condense and collect on the window. and we'll forget about the sun and bask in the stars, we'll live by the light of the streetlamps and roadmaps. we'll follow the coffee shops and trace the indie scenes. montreal and new york, new streets we haven't run our fingers over on maps. all bars are the same until you begin to see pop art portraits on the wall. my fear will be hanging on the wall of every art gallery, and my words will be in every person's open hands. you'll see the stage lights amplify the sounds and the symbiotic relationship between the music and our laughter. the ease in the breakdown. i'll be going to school downtown and i'll visit the medical illustrator who was to interested in meeting me. i'll take you to the park and you'll describe the fragments of your heart and how they don't seem to piece together between sips of wine. i'll be the designated driver and i'll point your tired feet in the right direction. i know that it's like to look up from down there. and you have no need to worry. we'll schedule cramming sessions in the library, except the information won't stick to the nerve cells of my memory. it will be all hormones and sexual innuendoes. these conversations are taking their toll. i dream of buying a condo by the beaches of the lake, where you are within walking distance of everything. your own little centre of the world. where the hustle and bustle wakes you up early in the morning, when the city comes alive. i wrote about its life being reflected in these eyes. these eyes that grow bright and dull with each situation, each word uttered. if they don't seem normal to you then you'll know something's wrong. i avoid eye contact like i avoid confrontation. always turning away. we'll be on airplanes and watching movies and sharing blankets, sharing thoughts. you'll never know what's going through this head. it's impermeable and everything works a mile a minute. it's hard to keep up sometimes. sometimes it leaks out and everything comes spilling over and all the words are slurred together. and it's hard to make sense of anything. that's why they're usually kept inside so that they don't slip. i'll hold your hand as we walk through the crowds like rockstars. like royalty. i have dreams of kissing soft skin in bathrooms, rays of sunlight peeking through curly hair. if everyone knew what was going on inside this head, they'd say she has too much imagination, they'd say she wastes her time on the worlds that live inside her head. alternate dimensions. telling stories and putting real fictional characters into fictional situations. when i'm old and senile i won't be able to make the distinction between real memories and daydreams. i still think that i didn't dream him getting a mohawk. i could swear that he did. but of course, i know he didn't. we'll be under totem poles, under ancient trees. the kind that live to tell stories of hundreds of generations. of tree huggers and families that settled at its roots. i can't even tell where this one ends or where the next one begins.
Author's Location: Brunswick, Maine
More Poems: Arianna Pendragon has posted 55 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Arianna Pendragon - Click HERE
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