Kings and a Rosemary Leaf
Goulet
Posts: 918
you get on a rollercoaster-wild-ride
and you can't stop,
and your brain chemicals are a-firin'
and your heart-chest-pulse is a-poundin'
and its all because some pretty girl
batted her eyelashes in your direction
and in your face and all night long.
Suddenly the night seems so clear
and crisp and the fall leaves are orange
and more yellow and more lifeless,
and the air is cold and wet on your lips,
and your thoughts are cold
and wet on your tongue,
and you can't say anything
or think of what you should have said,
until you're in bed,
half dead,
and still you walk briskly and think
about falling in love
that very second,
and you think about your good friend Horatio
and his paper-back book collection,
and how he loves everything about you,
and Horatio's some-kind-of genius,
but you're not quite sure how,
and he's some-kind-of innocent,
yet you're not quite sure why,
and you know you're only teasing yourself,
with all your fantasies,
but tonight it feels so good,
walking down Lincoln Avenue,
feeling like the Prince of Persia
or Mary-Mary Quite-Contrary,
and back in your car,
and back on the road,
and back in your bed,
and back to sleep,
and back off to dream.
and you can't stop,
and your brain chemicals are a-firin'
and your heart-chest-pulse is a-poundin'
and its all because some pretty girl
batted her eyelashes in your direction
and in your face and all night long.
Suddenly the night seems so clear
and crisp and the fall leaves are orange
and more yellow and more lifeless,
and the air is cold and wet on your lips,
and your thoughts are cold
and wet on your tongue,
and you can't say anything
or think of what you should have said,
until you're in bed,
half dead,
and still you walk briskly and think
about falling in love
that very second,
and you think about your good friend Horatio
and his paper-back book collection,
and how he loves everything about you,
and Horatio's some-kind-of genius,
but you're not quite sure how,
and he's some-kind-of innocent,
yet you're not quite sure why,
and you know you're only teasing yourself,
with all your fantasies,
but tonight it feels so good,
walking down Lincoln Avenue,
feeling like the Prince of Persia
or Mary-Mary Quite-Contrary,
and back in your car,
and back on the road,
and back in your bed,
and back to sleep,
and back off to dream.
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Comments
Good to see that you broke through the blockade there Goulet!
Ah, to sleep, per chance to dream...
i think i was getting too much sleep and not indulging enough because it feels like the flood gates opened wide
LOL! Well then, it's a good thing you woke up.
Fantastic, the flood gates are wide open, I think I could use a good soaking.
that is my favorite bit, even though it has such a sense of longing and almost sadness.
do you ever wonder which is more real Goulet?
i know which i choose although the only disappointing part is that they're much more fun to share. but what would we be without our dreams - it hurts just to think about it don't you think?
i think that it's incredibly hard to live up to fantasies in your head which is why a lot (most) people never do anything about their dreams...its a hard, ain't it hard?
i think its easier to say that you believe its hard to live up to fantasies - but i don't think in your heart of hearts you really mean it. or that at the very least, i don't believe that you want to believe that - not with the way you can still look at this world. but for arguments sake, lets say it is hard - does it mean we shouldn't even bother to try?
i admit that its hard to live up to some of the fantasies in my head. i can admit that i didn't imagine my life to be as it is, but i'm not dead yet - there's always a chance for it to change. and so maybe i'll never help the little prince tend to his lovely rose on his tiny little planet or sail the high seas as a pirate on THIS plane of existence but i swear to you on all that i am that those moments i spend in the world in my head can be every bit as real to me as typing this response to you.
and since we're on that subject - this Goulet that I so look forward to reading - are you real or a dream? how do i quanitify your reality within the context of my life? your words breath and pulse and laugh and weep and rail against the fates - or at least they do for me. these lovely lines you leave behind for me bring me as much joy or sadness or wanting as a sunset, as a hug, as a kiss or a beautiful blossom in my hand. your passages are idyllic moments captured in time but does their perfection mean they can't be real?
and as for the love that seems to be so much a part of your poems and fantasies - this, i assure you, i believe in absolutely without a doubt above all else. do i get anxious for it the day it will arrive? do i get discouraged that i may have missed it? it would be dishonest for me to say otherwise and still i believe. and i won't ever stop believing it no matter how silly or pointless others would like me to think that it is. regardless of whether or not he ever materializes in my own life and whether or not i have the presence of mind to recognize him. no matter, i still to the core of my being believe.
you want to know what i've learned the hard way Goulet? what makes it all so damn hard isn't finding the love that you seem to dream of, finding it is the easy part. Accepting it, thats really the hard part isn't it? Accepting that it is true in the face of all the cynics. But more than that, the hardest part still is accepting the love that someone is just waiting to give to you and accepting that THAT is more real than anything we can touch or hold or measure or classify.
maybe its just me and maybe i've spent entirely too many years writing loveletters to the invisible man. whatever the case may be, i hope more than anything that you find "it". that "it" that you will only admit to yourself and that when you do find "it", i hope you grab hold of it and don't let it slip away from you. accept it when you find it and you'll have acheived the impossible.
more to come
i can't stop reading this
you should post your poems
i can't stop reading this...who are you, a mind reader????
thats exactly how i've felt about your posts
and who knows i may have posted a litte bit of nothing, i wonder if you could guess which one.
mind reader, nah, but a time or two i believe i could have asked the very same of you.
"Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men for they may act their dreams with open eyes and make it possible. "
T.E. Lawrence
goulet, i don't know if i'll ever be able to express my gratitude for the poem you left here for us to read and re-read and read yet again.
pinches to you friend. be well.