I don’t care if
we only ever wander
through the skylit pages
of your imaginings.
Our world should be
the one inside your head,
where we hold hands like ghosts,
with fantastic, stony arches,
high, below our dangling feet.
Let’s invent our lives,
like butterscotch and green tea,
like radiator grease and guitar strings,
like we are our own playthings.
Create me,
give me a name,
put a song in my throat
that wasn’t mine until
you placed it there.
We will intertwine
and bend together,
soaking up the distance
between us and your sunset verde,
mired with hummus clouds,
and rich despair.
Butterscotch and green tea
Radiator grease and guitar strings.
Love it.
A song in your throat
Your writing style is wonderful and so alive
thank you. poetry is living, for me.
It shows. I am so full of anticipation as I get ready to read another. I would ask for suggestions but the thrill of searching is very good
I’m flattered. I just love making people feel…
You have a gift I would say
can’t you ever stop being so fantastic? You make the rest of us hack writers look even more hack like….great stuff.
skylit pages of your imaginings… hold hands like ghosts…
you’re the tenth muse….
my goodness, thank you
🙂
really nice!
hummus clouds!
Despair, despair…
Yet if you bare
all you can bear
then you and he
shall know no care.
You shall well fare,
you shall well fare,
lass who art fair.
Let down your hair.
😉
! I love that.
Thought you might… 😉
Very well. 🙂
Done- very well done, I mean.
thank you : )
I love the part about “skylit pages of your imaginings”, especially. Such beautiful imagery throughout!
thank you so much
No problem! I really like reading your work and look forward to more!!! Please keep writing and sharing! 🙂
I definitely will, your encouragement means so much.
😀
“give me a name,
put a song in my throat”
Anastasia
P.S. Would love this poem as lyrics!
i’ve always wished to be her!
you are!
!!!
Don’t ever wish to be somebody else. Be you, please.
I can’t help it.
Of all the things one can say, there are no words to fully express how talented you are.
you are sweet and kind, your reading and feeling my words is enough.
Your so nice. Why can’t there be more of you in the world. ; )
“like butterscotch and green tea,
like radiator grease and guitar strings,
like we are our own playthings.”
LOVE the juxtaposition of imagery here. and we ARE our own playthings!
yes, we are : ) thank you.
Beautiful poem! I enjoy reading everything you write. Keep feeding your muse and your spirit will never be hungry (or bored)!
thank you so much! I believe I shall…
Beautiful!
thank you