Monday, May 23, 2011

Plain as can be, plain as me.

Open up my heart, darling
Before I fall apart, starling
Refreshment in a desert hallucination
Refreshment for my pallid imagination

All that can exist here
Summed up in a single tear
In this desert hallucination
Falls down from the dark cloud's top
Drop after lonely drop
Here in my pallid imagination

Dust sprinkled across the seams
All the old and older dreams
Refresh, refresh my being.

title: surreal appeal

Storyteller, weave your tale from thin, sweet air.
Whistling through your teeth,
the wind carries your words
miles and miles lapped up
Farther and father from its place
Past the familiar horizon into the unknown
when you only attempt to reach
the nearest of open hearts.
Hear the tune the old winds sing
of stories told long ago
Scattered through lonely space.
Met with vibrations of excitement,
New hope, new light, new tunes.
Slowly after so long,
those words return, through your lips,
bid adieu to the open air,
And approach a heart from which they sprung
Not originally, but a soft spot was saved for them.
Convicted to sensations
no longer bare to humiliation
Not on the lonely road, but home in another.

title: magic wind

I made these up today (sorry the last one doesn't rhyme). I'm not really sure why I feel in such a sensational mood today. I read the lines below on (which I highly suggest you digest) last night, and was just stunned and stimulated by how they made me feel. Reading it is so much different than hearing it, true, but seeing it with those charged emotions each word brings to the others calls for a lovely, lovely poem. Owl City is not just a musician with a possible imsomniatic disorder (or I guess it isn't a disorder, because it supposedly improves his talent), but a poet, and a human being with a very open heart and open emotions.

"Weighed down by heavy lids and lunar lullabies, I knew you were wide awake because you smile with your eyes."

"This particular sad farewell left a hole in my chest and a bittersweet taste in my mouth, as saying goodbye has a way of doing. It tasted like past romance, a bouquet of indelible memories laced with lost love and confused emotions, the flowery passion and affection of two starry-eyed dreamers, tangled up in the ribbons of a faded fairy tale."

mack.  :)

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