Archive for December 2008
Window
Through this window I have seen many days start and many of them end.
I have encountered rain and hail and heat and sunshine through this glass.
The blinds and curtains change every few years, but, from this second story window, I’ve always been able to witness the same view: The hovering piece of a telephone wire on the backdrop of tree and building.
Behind that stands the top of a brown city mountain, or hill, that peaks right where the blue sky starts.
And sometimes the sky is gray like tonight, but I live for these nights.
On this side of the window I have not grown up with any ounce of ideal.
I fall down and stay down.
Sometimes I even fall asleep.
I stumble my way up staircases that lead to tomorrow.
But one thing I’ve always seen through my window is the freedom in the air that awaits on the outside, the open world that awaits my delayed arrival to it.
But I am here now.I am here to stay.
Teach ’Em: Our Children
Up and around the castle walls we go.
Up and around the castle.
The mortar and pestle art forms that are spread around this continent.
Natural Museums.
Stone walls and checkered marble floors.
Beautiful scenery inspired by the treasures of the long departed moats and drawbridges.
Then to a peek of the peeling paint and the saints that roamed these halls.
A quick glimpse of the freedom found in smoking in the bathrooms
Or the science buildings built on top of bomb shelters and history.
Canteens and warmer wooden cafeterias.
Libraries that smelled like the browning pages of the printed paper sandwiched inbetween hard covers.
Libraries that seemed to hide gold in their books.
You would just have to find them hidden among the others.
A time when all you did was what you wanted.
When rules were meant to be broken.
They didn’t have to look out for you then.
They don’t have to look out for you now.
But they do.
And until they stop, the buildings will be torn down for new.
The paint will be fresh, the halls less legendary,
The desks comfortable, and the lockers removed.
The back of the school: Buildings painted beige with rusted water stains dripping from the roofs like waterfalls frozen in motion.
The nights seemed to last for years.
This is where we stand.
A January, February time and I’m losing the vision.
Can you hear it in the melody?
We were once special.
We ruled what we liked.
We were once special.
We had it all.
Blaring Proof
It echoes against the walls.
The tiny siren alarms the unsuspecting.
One long beep.
Then another.
1, 2! 1, 2!
It makes you feel like there is still life beyond our thoughts.
There’s still something alive out there.
I’m not the only one left.
Blaring proof to the future that there was once human life here.
Just.Works
I looked to my left.
She was gleaming with the lights from the buildings on the side of the road.
And as we strolled along quickly to see the fireworks it was as if she moved in slow motion.
She just seemed so natural.
I captured every moment of it.
It was then that I noticed that the theme park brings out something from inside of her,
Just like how she only adds to the beauty of the amusement.
The sights and the sounds and her face in this wonder
only show me something of which we do not speak of.
We just live it and live on and hope for the best.
And maybe I’m blinded by the lights and the smell and the tine,
or maybe I’ve just found her hiding behind it all.
There’s just something about this all.