Ran in the dark
dragging the heart of the park
on my stiff ankles.
I leave traces of it all along,
an alive artery, the art of living
a dead weight I'm carrying around.
I hadn't been brave enough
to sweat poetry in a while:
It reminded me of my
rebellious days
When I thought I could
Ride on a bike, run and
Swim while playing the poet...
And boy, I could!
I could have a spark of innocence back then...
An idea of it wrapped in
muscles burning,
A verse rushing through blood
Pierces and begs to be built,
One more verse in exhaustion
The pleasure of friction
against the ground
makes the hair in my forearm shake
and my legs quiver and I pant
and gasp and throb and
Don't give up,
for God's sake,
keep looking straight ahead, squint the
eyes of your mind and I promise,
I promise,
You will see the finishing line.
Because everything ends.
The breathing of the trees
and flowers rushed
into my nostrils and
landed on my tongue:
It tasted like an omen
to an early summer.
The darkness of shadows casting
and my own shaped a sense
of why I was still alive and
running like me and the
park were one.
In the dark I ran,
like the devil chased me around,
I ran in white, in the
heart of the park,
to be brave enough
to sweat poetry.
Strangeness & Charm
tranced by Raffaella Ciavatta Labels: circles, patterns at Thursday, November 10, 2011 0 comments