mY uTOPIA

Ali

I saw two little boys
holding hands
waiting for the bus.
And I thought,
And feel,
Why can't we live that way as adults?
As eternal children?
With no screaming,
.......no abuses
.......no wrongs to be righted.
Why can't we all just live as we were when we were children?
Balls to be thrown,
Imaginary friends,
Hands to be held,
Cheeks to be kissed.
All amongst elated joy.
This is my utopia.

pearlmutt

"Why can't we all just live as we were when we were children?"


ali, your poem is really really nice. I wonder that myself. All the time. And I don't know is the answer I've come up with, but the reason I love love love Tom Robbins is this. He said (as he trailed off into some new novel or wrapped up Still Life With Woodpecker) It's never too late to have a happy childhood. And I like that sentiment a whole lot too. (on a side note, and absolutely free information: He also said that he didn't know how to keep the mystery of love alive; it's a mystery -- I'm looking for my copy so I don't misquote him, but dang it, it's gotten off somewhere, and I've gotta go fix some eats. Anyway he gave it a great try with his remmington whatever and then his pen and then and then and then. . .)

Ali

pearlmutt wrote:

"Why can't we all just live as we were when we were children?"


ali, your poem is really really nice. I wonder that myself. All the time. And I don't know is the answer I've come up with, but the reason I love love love Tom Robbins is this. He said (as he trailed off into some new novel or wrapped up Still Life With Woodpecker) It's never too late to have a happy childhood. And I like that sentiment a whole lot too. (on a side note, and absolutely free information: He also said that he didn't know how to keep the mystery of love alive; it's a mystery -- I'm looking for my copy so I don't misquote him, but dang it, it's gotten off somewhere, and I've gotta go fix some eats. Anyway he gave it a great try with his remmington whatever and then his pen and then and then and then. . .)

Thank you pearlmautt.Iwas jus sitting on my back porch watching two little boys up the street holding hands,playing,waiting for the bus,and I couldnt help but admire them because I have very few friends,if any that I can just grab their hands and start walking down the street with.I have maybe two who wouldnt take it as an intimate gesture of adulthood and begin rumors and the latter...not that I would care.But the sense of being that God did genuinely intend for us all to live like children is such a wonderful statement in itself.I'm always looking for those friends that I can greet with a kiss....

grooveamatic

Someday I know I'll just start waking up
At six o'clock in the morning again
And drive to my old high school
Bleary-eyed and pissy
And walk unflinchingly into the first classroom
I see, ready to go again.
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
That one day soon the old friends
Will drop by and pick me up
And we'll scurry off to the drive-in theater/pizza shop
To play pool and the juke box and smoke reefer
For a few blissful hours;
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
Any day now some pals from way back
Will knock petitely upon my door
Holding a red bouncy kickball
And invite me to the church down the street
Which boasts a really large green lawn
Upon which we will play a long sweaty muddy game
Of kickball, the kind with baseball rules,
Except you can throw the ball at the runner.
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
That any time now
I will crawl directly back inside my mother
Up the wrong way
And settle down inside the scarred womb
Among the sinew and bloody tissue
To once again hear the songs of angels
And the sleep of forever.
__________________

Ali

grooveamatic wrote:

Someday I know I'll just start waking up
At six o'clock in the morning again
And drive to my old high school
Bleary-eyed and pissy
And walk unflinchingly into the first classroom
I see, ready to go again.
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
That one day soon the old friends
Will drop by and pick me up
And we'll scurry off to the drive-in theater/pizza shop
To play pool and the juke box and smoke reefer
For a few blissful hours;
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
Any day now some pals from way back
Will knock petitely upon my door
Holding a red bouncy kickball
And invite me to the church down the street
Which boasts a really large green lawn
Upon which we will play a long sweaty muddy game
Of kickball, the kind with baseball rules,
Except you can throw the ball at the runner.
Or, failing that,
It seems certain
That any time now
I will crawl directly back inside my mother
Up the wrong way
And settle down inside the scarred womb
Among the sinew and bloody tissue
To once again hear the songs of angels
And the sleep of forever.
__________________

Nice,Very nice.I can do with out that whole "pot"phase that everyone went through in their teens and twenties and thirties though.I find it useless.....

Righteous Jammer

Things were soo simpler then. No worries, not a care in the world. That's how I'm trying to live my life.

Ali

a poet wrote:

Things were soo simpler then. No worries, not a care in the world. That's how I'm trying to live my life.

Me toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo:)
*Balloon flies away!*