08-03-2017, 04:46 AM
Caesar’s story is whispered in VENI VIDI VICI
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you),
and he came from a womb, all the same.
Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves;
none of it matters in these dawn time days.
My world creates my reality creates my home.
I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations,
connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings
(at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.)
But first, to grow:
an ambitious mutating willow
until all that matters not is so far below
that even my roots don’t know
they’re there.
Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue.
With warm brown hair and snowflake wings,
With warm brown hair and paper wings,
I too will fly. I too will climb.
And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul.
First thread! :-)
I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you),
and he came from a womb, all the same.
Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves;
none of it matters in these dawn time days.
My world creates my reality creates my home.
I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations,
connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings
(at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.)
But first, to grow:
an ambitious mutating willow
until all that matters not is so far below
that even my roots don’t know
they’re there.
Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue.
With warm brown hair and snowflake wings,
With warm brown hair and paper wings,
I too will fly. I too will climb.
And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul.
First thread! :-)
I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!