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stepping lightly

justamjustam Posts: 21,410
edited March 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I was thinking of those brass feet you sometimes see built into a sidewalk
(maybe they would help me learn the right sequence?)

I was thinking of tablespoons, teaspoons, and the security of following recipes
(how unlike the freedom of a test-kltchen!)

I was thinking of cliches about taking one step forward and two steps back
(though being optimistic, I prefer a reversed ratio)

I thought about closeness, distance, my tendency to be clumsy,
and how I’d really like to learn to be oh-so-slightly graceful!
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Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • oldermanolderman Posts: 1,765
    i never follow recipes .. thanks!

    and may you find a graceful way :)
    Down the street you can hear her scream youre a disgrace
    As she slams the door in his drunken face
    And now he stands outside
    And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
    He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
    What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
    Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
    And his tears fall and burn the garden green
  • CodeRiotCodeRiot Posts: 115
    watching the people pass me by
    the streets are so full of insignificant life
    It's not my fault I'm stuck inside
    the days drift by and I'm growing cold
    without your touch
    the warmth is leaving my soul

    I'm dreaming of the day when we're alone
    like the good old days we left back home
    when we'd sit upstairs admiring those tombs
    the days drift by and I'm growing old
    without your touch
    the youth is withering in my soul

    without your touch
    I don't feel like waking up
    without your touch
    I don't feel like going outside
    without your touch
    I think I might as well just die
    I know it's only been a half hour
    but without your touch
    a half hour feels like forever
    I tried to be a better me
    In the end I looked like the rest of them.
  • justamjustam Posts: 21,410
    CodeRiot wrote:
    watching the people pass me by
    the streets are so full of insignificant life
    It's not my fault I'm stuck inside
    the days drift by and I'm growing cold
    without your touch
    the warmth is leaving my soul

    I'm dreaming of the day when we're alone
    like the good old days we left back home
    when we'd sit upstairs admiring those tombs
    the days drift by and I'm growing old
    without your touch
    the youth is withering in my soul

    without your touch
    I don't feel like waking up
    without your touch
    I don't feel like going outside
    without your touch
    I think I might as well just die
    I know it's only been a half hour
    but without your touch
    a half hour feels like forever

    involuntary absence

    And on those days when the computer is blocked
    or the phone lines are down
    I feel the distance acutely
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