About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Green Peas at Stake #578482 added April 9, 2008 at 10:12pm Restrictions: None
In the Clouds (Dew Drop 9}
In the Clouds
I'll be a cloud diviner
like the aloof man from China
I once met at the foot
of the Golden Gate Bridge.
He sat on a rock, facing
the clouds at dusk with
reverence, "For mortality; yet,
for immortality," he said.
But, I'll be a seer unlike him.
Unlike him, I'll breathe fire,
I'll fatten up the clouds to
slide on for dancing the tango,
my tango nuevo, for kicking the air
with my shapely legs, and I'll
wear my red bolero and red
stilettos with ankle straps;
then I'll take my brushes up
to paint the clouds in dazzling colors.
Next, the show-off that I am,
with my ceremonial hands,
I'll put bee-hives in my clouds
for the bees to pollinate life
again, for I'll plant flowers on
all continents that no one can
trample. But first, I'll ask
the clouds this, about me.
This yearning for another realm,
will it ever go away?
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© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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