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Snowflake Swing

 
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Miho



Joined: 11 Apr 2008
Posts: 435
Location: Wouldn't you like to know.

PostPosted: Tue Dec 08, 2009 1:55 am    Post subject: Snowflake Swing Reply with quote

I have another one.
I haven't written one in a bit.
Well i started this a few months ago when i was pondering jumping. Just jumping in general.
And I know my poems don't really follow... much anything, but I like them. It's basically just spitting out thoughts. I mean, if you wanna know how my brain works... this is it. I sit and I write and this is it. Admittedly, I'll fix stuff at times, but usually these are the rough stuff and I like them rough and unfixed.

So snow fell and I felt like finishing it.



Swinging legs too far from the ground,
Swinging between denial and memories.
Barred naivety and the white in the winter night.
Every snowflake lost itís colour descending to kiss the dirt
Every frozen piece of water is brave in the jump
Cowards in the fall.
The wind for all itís stubborn physics speaks in ignorance.
Wind told us the secret.
Told us riddled in equations and derivatives.
The secret of how wind never had the courage to jump.
Jump.
A verb.
Content with itís position.
Noun is far too stressful.
Adjective too specific.
Preposition- time consuming.
Jumpís jealousy of the wind is justified against the sound it makes.
Jump is where the heroes lie.
My little town is full of heroes.
We all jumped.
Swinging legs too far from the ground,
Swinging between idiocy and bravery.
That fine line that we all tight-roped from here to there
That fine line that we skitterjumped and teased
Ripcurl waves crashed beneath our swinging feet
Ripcurl always swallowed up any hope
But jump was stronger.
Fall takes no guts, no glory, no luggie hawkin talk.
Fall takes wind.
Try jumping with open eyes wide.
Try jumping with the coward taunting in your canals.
Try jumping with vessels fighting gravity.
Then kick at the fall.
Kick till your legs no longer flail.
Kick until your legs are swinging.
Swinging legs too far form the ground,
Swinging between innocence and spirits.
I recognize jump now.
Weíre old friends.
He comes like a drunken frat boy,
Loud, obnoxious, but always persistent.
Jump screams until you listen.
Repeats it all until you satisfy.
Picks you up with swinging legs far from the ground.
In my little town, jump was our time well spent.
In my little town, legs were always kinked at the knees.
In my little town, fall was for those who had to be pushed.
Swinging legs too far from the ground.
Swinging between the gods and wind.
Jump is where the heroes live.
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