PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I remember
a house of brick
on a concrete street in a medium sized city
where stretched imagination
in a little boys world
like wide open spaces
in a country vast and new filled with
diamond promises of flowers and life

I remember
the people who shared the house
with life stressed eyes
of hopeless confrontations
endlessly replaying the tragedy of
their mundane emptiness
that floated like amber winds of
distraction in the ever shrinking
promenade of routine and daily grind

I remember
feeling the tension of
a gripping intensity such as a
little boy could not comprehend
puzzled at the level of incoherence
that grew like waterfalls
glistening in a park
hiding shell-like in the womb of
fantasy and illusion
risking nothing by venturing nothing
safe inside a tomb
I remember
running around the street
practicing the distance that would
come to represent the security
of being a grown up man
walking carefully around the water
that threatened to drown the
people in the brick house
on the concrete street where the
dreams were harsh and
vaguely argumentative

I remember
breathing the air of fire
that wrapped its hazy glare around
the bottom of every lake
I swam upon
tarnished visions of the graveyard
of belief that like a picked rose
would wither and die even
though it had been placed in water