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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 23809
Category:
personal_life
Posted: August 19th. 2006 5:43:01 PM
Views: 1441 |
Worn sneakers scrape asphalt
by Arianna Pendragon
Age Group: Adult
Remember those days? Walks on the path near your house, hoods on trying as hard as vanity would allow to keep from blowing away in one of those upward gusts. Looking right (west) toward the empty, but oddly welcoming fields and laughing as you recollected a memory or three of a teacher you had last year. Kicking pebbles of glass that sparkled with understanding and acceptance, and what I so naively mistook for innocence.
As night fell, we'd stroll back towards your street and to a friend of your friend's girlfriend's house. Greetings to that guy in your English class's cousin and his friend who never seemed to make honor roll. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I'd have laughed. It seems now though, there was nothing to gain from the red plastic cups or the smoke-filled cars but a bad reputation.
Perhaps it was the combination of an especially wild comeback from freshmen year, that new kind of chemical, and the pressure of time and your friends on your shoulders that caused it. I can't remember, and I don't think you want to either. But the translucent orange of light through beer and color began to fade much more quickly than usual. The smoke in my lungs didn't ever seem to leave. I dreamt a thousand dreams in a moment and threw my limbs in desperate attempts to find safety. Ceilings were nothing but portals to dimensions previously unknown, and floors were lava, rock, and clouds. Fans stayed still as the room around me spun, and the paper stuck to my wrist fell slowly off, spiraling and twisting down, down.
Eternal bliss. Atoms screaming and laughing and dying and pleading with the shreds of dignity forgotten by their electrons, long since departed to form a bond I couldn't reason yet. Please (can't forget manners) , don't, stop. Stop what? The realm of reality so far distorted that the blankets tried to talk me back. Can you hear me? Is she alive? Yes, mantelpiece, I can hear you. You don't need to speak so loudly. Where's her date at? Oh forks and knives. Why must you end sentences with prepositions? *** it, I'm leaving. Goodbye sunshine, hello moon.
I may have been new, but I wasn't stupid.
I know.
And still, I am silenced.
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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