Head in the Clouds

It’s been so long since I’ve spent a holiday splashing around in the pool of poetry. There’s something vivacious and irresistible about wading through the rapid-prone shallows and the midnight purple swimming holes where you can’t tell how deep it goes down. (My mind is at home among the words I craft.) I have missed swinging from a rope of tightly woven security and plunging all-at-once into that layer of life where art and profundity can be drawn from everything imaginable… and even some things previously unimagined. Being submerged in the waters of word-play is like swimming in an opal and drinking of the loosely-bound and unreleased colors therein… only opals are usually only found in Australia, and I can go swimming anytime I want, here.

Come with me, all you lovers of lyric language. The water is bluer and deeper and more alive when we splash words at each other and scatter punctuation marks across the afternoon. My imagination needs to exchange foolish, unfabricated, far-from-phlegmatic fantasies with yours in order to survive.

:Head in the Clouds:

Your imagination is
standing on tiptoe
trying to peer over
barricades
and subway trains
To see through finger-smudged arcades.

You have found a secret portal
To the world as it should be, oh,
Can’t you teach me all you’ve found?
Can’t you sweep me off the ground?

Your imagination is
wearing tall stilts
and drinking raw milk
to boost your height,
and extend your sight
To see the colors in the light.

You have found a secret story
You’re not on speaking terms with boring
Can’t you teach me all you’ve found?
Can’t you sweep me off the ground?

Your imagination is
leaning out windows
waving to locals
nothing’s planned
nothing’s bland
You gaze into clouds and you see neverlands.

You pick up a pen and you make stories breathe.
You look at a frog and you see royalty.
You leap on a horse and you’re a cavalry of one.
You open a door and in comes the sun.

You have found a secret passage
Past the boundaries of knowledge.
Can’t you teach me all you’ve found?
Can’t you sweep me off the ground?

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8 responses

  1. Anna

    I love it! πŸ™‚

    March 7, 2011 at 10:23 pm

  2. Simply marvelous, dear Grace!

    March 7, 2011 at 11:19 pm

  3. Just imagine! I love the way you weave the possible and the impossible into a tapestry with implications for practicality. Thank you for sharing with us!

    March 8, 2011 at 8:06 am

  4. “Your imagination is
    standing on tiptoe
    trying to peer over
    barricades
    and subway trains
    To see through finger-smudged arcades.”

    Oh, Grace. That is SO me. It’s been so long since I’ve written something very poetic. But happily, and to my great relief, I am working on a new poem RIGHT now. πŸ˜‰ It’s… yeah, relieving. Especially on a day when the words just floooooooooow into your brain. Yummy. It’s a delicious feeling.

    “You gaze into clouds and you see neverlands…” ❀

    March 9, 2011 at 4:15 pm

  5. Grace,

    Please tell me you didn’t write this. It is much, much, much too good to belong to a friend of mine!

    Also, may I print it out? And put it in a pretty sort of frame? On my wall? If I give you credit?

    ❀

    March 10, 2011 at 9:47 am

    • Well, I did write it, so I’m sorry I can’t oblige you! ;D

      You may do anything you like with it, short of selling it. πŸ˜‰ I don’t mind a bit!

      ❀

      March 10, 2011 at 10:06 am

  6. Words like the shoelaces on a new pair of shoes. Dangling and swinging in the sunlight, you tied them up neatly, and just took me for a jog.
    πŸ™‚

    Thank you Grace for that vibrant string of poetry.

    April 3, 2011 at 1:49 pm

  7. Andy

    That is awesome.

    May 31, 2011 at 3:09 pm

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