Every dream is flawed
Buru
Posts: 8,473
She was born some time after than I was
In those akward years
Of blushes and discarded dolls
The pretty coloured dresses
In piles on the floor,
A vision of ensuing chaos...
As the rocking horse
Rocked on its own,
No one to ride him now
The corners called
Come...come here
To be forgotten
Come...come here
We will find you a new home...
She was a quiet person
A beautiful portrait
Of soft demure
And soothing words
For everyone but me.
She liked to question every thought
And think about every question...
Invading doubts
Never gave me rest
Overconscious and too wrapped up
In herself
To notice the world living
Outside her window
Outside her mind...
From time to time a reaching arm
Would find its way across long hallways
inhabited by echoes and smoke
It would emerge from the thick bramble
Bearing scars of prickly caresses
And is she worth it?
I wonder... She wonders...
For one brief second we agree
Put an end to this dichotomy
As plums still rot in plum trees
And night follows day follows night
As questions still remain unanswered
And somehow she still lives on
Even years after she was born...
If I had the strength
I would kill her
I would wrestle the air out of her
Till she squirmed no more
And watch her blue and bloated
Lying lifeless on the floor
Watch as one watches
An interesting insect
That's carrying more load
It can carry on its own.
A martyr, a lost soul...
From the day she was born
A nightmare, a burden
And far too heavy a load.
The rocking-horse still beckons
Come...come play once more
we can turn back the time
If we rock hard enough...
We can kill the blackness in her
The doubts and self-control,
Bring forth the beauty dormant
That has yet to glow
Break away from this prison
Break away and run
To lands of fields ripe and gold
And if plums still rot in plum trees
We won't mind at all...
For every dream is flawed.
In those akward years
Of blushes and discarded dolls
The pretty coloured dresses
In piles on the floor,
A vision of ensuing chaos...
As the rocking horse
Rocked on its own,
No one to ride him now
The corners called
Come...come here
To be forgotten
Come...come here
We will find you a new home...
She was a quiet person
A beautiful portrait
Of soft demure
And soothing words
For everyone but me.
She liked to question every thought
And think about every question...
Invading doubts
Never gave me rest
Overconscious and too wrapped up
In herself
To notice the world living
Outside her window
Outside her mind...
From time to time a reaching arm
Would find its way across long hallways
inhabited by echoes and smoke
It would emerge from the thick bramble
Bearing scars of prickly caresses
And is she worth it?
I wonder... She wonders...
For one brief second we agree
Put an end to this dichotomy
As plums still rot in plum trees
And night follows day follows night
As questions still remain unanswered
And somehow she still lives on
Even years after she was born...
If I had the strength
I would kill her
I would wrestle the air out of her
Till she squirmed no more
And watch her blue and bloated
Lying lifeless on the floor
Watch as one watches
An interesting insect
That's carrying more load
It can carry on its own.
A martyr, a lost soul...
From the day she was born
A nightmare, a burden
And far too heavy a load.
The rocking-horse still beckons
Come...come play once more
we can turn back the time
If we rock hard enough...
We can kill the blackness in her
The doubts and self-control,
Bring forth the beauty dormant
That has yet to glow
Break away from this prison
Break away and run
To lands of fields ripe and gold
And if plums still rot in plum trees
We won't mind at all...
For every dream is flawed.
y la banda de Guille... cuando toca?
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is a poetry guru
show us more
I was just about to start bitching about no replies...
even if the reply is: it sucks!!
it's still better than silence
because ur just like "wow"
i gotta find one piece that u did about the mountains?
i didt get a chance to read it all
because i was busy at the moment
and i watned to take it in slow
was it on mtrain?
if it is
get its ass over here please
It was probably my post on Mt. Aconcagua, just some prose
I'll resurface it here
rargh -
Here's my post on the mountains, more descriptive than poetic but you're wish is my command!!
I’m back from Mt. Aconcagua! And pretty much in one piece
4200 metres (about 13800 feet) closer to heaven!
It was a wonderful experience, very tiring but fully rewarding. Imagine a lone dirt road cut into the mountains, and just a few people following it, mountains everywhere you look, mountains every color, red, green, brown, yellow and in many different shades, just simply beautiful… And in the distance, a massive wall of ice and stone (the south wall, our destination)
The altitude almost killed me, I’d walk a few steps uphill and be completely out of breath, heart beating at full speed, ready to jump out of my mouth, my head throbbing too… but then you’d pause for a few seconds, catch your breath, adjust the weight on your shoulders, take a look around, and will yourself to move on. I also sang to myself and that helped, I sang Pearl Jam, Counting Crows, Marillion (I'm in such a Marillion phase) and the songs would carry me on.
And so I arrived to Plaza Francia, our final destination by the south wall of Mt. Aconcagua, at 4200 metres. There are glaciers coming right to it, and it’s quite an impressive sight, only a few dare to go up the South wall, maybe 5-10 people a year it’s such a difficult climb, almost suicidal… our group just watched the south wall of course (Plaza Francia is the base camp for those that decide to climb that wall)
I still have to download the pics into my computer and then I’ll make them available somewhere and post more stuff about the trip for those interested (where we slept, how far we walked each day, my nightmare about rats, etc), but when I’m not at work!!
Glad to be back, a bit sore and tired but entirely happy
There's something really spiritual about the mountains...
*sigh*
u and whos_pearljam
should
work together
I am working on it
a trip with buru and whos_pearljam = AMAZING stuff
im sure u two would come up with lots
that was was great work buru
u have a talent
i liked this one. the past and youth always beckons, temptation and even the sin of it all.
keep up that flow you've got running. Descriptive is definitely a strong point especially when the conventions are dropped and you really take over.
nice.
thanks for reading and thanks for writing. Consider me a fan.
seta
*Bob gets hiking boots out of the closet, ready to visit countries that start with "A" this year*:)
Don't be mankind. ~Captain Beefheart
__________________________________
just don't get distracted and go to places like Argelia, Alaska or Australia...
Distracted?
No way!
I'm suddenly focused!
Austria in July,, Argentina in........?
Don't be mankind. ~Captain Beefheart
__________________________________
whenever you want
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
i'm just.... loving this.
www.myspace.com/birdinamitten
glad you liked
An interesting insect
That's carrying more load
It can carry on its own.
A martyr, a lost soul...
From the day she was born
A nightmare, a burden
And far too heavy a load.
...hmmph...
what the fuck is this???
Pasta Nazi and nastipatzi ... 2 in one is this?
As am I, and sometimes more
One body, too many minds