I take off the spectacles
and I realize
the Emerald City
isn’t green at all
I see you
in the light of day
and I realize
you’re not the person
I thought I needed
to make me feel good about myself
I was asleep in the poppies
and the validation wasn’t worth it
I loved you last night
but I was dreaming
too far over the rainbow
I just want to go
Someone please take me
- Manifest Destiny
She pours poetry in her drawings
When her age is only four
Answering her talent's callings
That were never seen before.
Zealously she churns the marker
Into spirals,into circles
Making scribbles on the paper
And connecting miraged circuits.
Should her teacher see her now
She probably would interupt her
Would hold her hand to show her how
“Let's draw a flower!” she might spur,
"Let's glue these neatly precut shapes!"
And then her muse might start to flicker,
Her talent steadily reshapes
Just for another “well done” sticker…
I am ashamed, I almost stopped her
But then I felt the rithm in her hands
Saw her rhymes in her joyous stir
Picking her idea’s strands.
“Look mama, it is a cyclone!”
Finally I see the meaning,
In your poem that you've drawn
With your wide smile, and eyes gleaming
You add quickly Dorothy's house
A triangle on top of square,
Reminiscing ‘f old type schoolhouse,
Your poem starts, right there, mid-air...
True story of today
Soon she won’t need a dream induced tornado Like Dorothy did.
A little puff of air will carry her off to Oz.
It’s a bit like shock therapy
When you’d come to.
It was the Depression, sure,
And I was barely clothed and fed
But I woke up refreshed
Realigned and adjusted.
A clean sweep!
Surrounded by my loving family.
So this is the way things are;
The way things were,
But it’s not so bad in comparison.
That over there was a disaster
“Loss of consciousness”
Was I in a coma?
With witch’s feet
And those dancing trolls
A road leading where and why?
There are no other roads, so who cares the color?
It was a horror story, not a morality play
They were so presumptuous,
What I needed!
They told me that I had killed someone,
a complete stranger
That’s when it all got worse.
Yes I suppose they do!
You are right!
I got my wish in a sick kind of way
I went beyond a “rainbow”
as it were
It was bad.
I liked those gorgeous orange woozy poppies
but so what,
I was asleep anyway.
Do you see what I mean?
Chased by monkeys and
people who don’t really like me.
Not any more than anywhere else.
Despite what they say.
Anyway, everyone clearly had their own agenda.
It was a matter of convenience and opportunities.
What was mine again?
For it to stop.
The Wizard was a Kansas Man
He said so himself
And when I showed up
Well he decided to clear out
I guess we were two Kansans too many
Stay with us Dorothy!
We love you!
All of us!
We don’t want you to go!
Doesn’t that sound a bit odd?
So I came back with this bit about
Well “if I ever look
for my heart’s desire
I will look no further
than my own backyard
Because if it isn’t there
(It gets good!)
I never really lost it
To begin with!”
Can you believe that?
I also relentlessly repeated
and the word
Which isn’t really a total and complete
And somehow it worked
It came to an end
I can’t really explain why but
It could have been a Jim Jones situation.
But do you think that I believed any of it?
And now I think that I know how to do it.
And I can do it again.
But to someplace
Synapses roll off the tongue,
Stutter and glitch
Stut-t-t-ter and glitch
You a broken doll
With your bright brilliance.
I loved the character Glitch from Syfy's Wizard of Oz
shall we meet
if only for the first time
though I feel we have danced
in times past
in the life I still live
in these fields of gold
songs that haunt me with their beauty
over that rainbow of dreams
I sense you wait for me
when Autumn leaves fall
how dare I love a spirit
I do not know
yet it is my conviction that we are bound somehow
in those darkest nights
in the absence of purity
before my soul is taken by the abyss
a whisper is all I need
whisper the word from that song...
oldie - slightly revised - I was motivated to write this piece after hearing Eva Cassidy' s version of 'Over the Rainbow' which she never knew became a hit in England as she passed from cancer without ever having a record contract. She was offered, but they wouldn't allow her to choose her songs, so she refused to sign. She grew up in my town.
I gave up somewhere along this road—
When it was I don’t know.
So I’ll sit here, underneath the shade
And wait for the Tin man,
Now rusted in time, far behind me.
I discovered, sitting there, that day—
That losing a heart
Was actually an easy thing to do.
Long ago relationship poem, that still has some bearing on the present, almost funny how these things come right back around sometimes.
A brick road laid in front of me,
one slab at a time
I took a step along the path
to see what I could find
A scarecrow cried out for help,
sounded like he was in pain
I asked him what he needed
and he expressed to me,
So I sliced my forehead carefully,
and took mine from my skull
I placed it in his head and said,
"there, now your mind is full."
He thanked me as I wandered on
to find another friend
I met a lion on the bricks
whose life was at its end
He was afraid of everything,
and he was so discouraged
So I reached into my gut
and I gave him all my courage
He smiled and waved
as I left
to give someone else a hand
And I heard the cries of sadness
from a rusted, old tin man
I asked him what he needed and he wailed out,
So I pulled myself open and tore my ribs and chest apart
Now that I am empty,
I'm dumb, scared, and alone
All that I can think is,
"there is no place like home."
I could while away the hours
Conferrin' with the flower
Consultin' with the rain
And my head, I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain...
Alms to flashes,
Storms on television sets
Domesticating nature for High Definition ****** fixation.
Suffocating families in screens.
Screens and flashes,
Alms to flashes.
Distractions spurn all my senses
I am hard and flaccid
and want more
but right now
I can feel the needle connect to my veins and into my spine
Push the plunger down and connection is made.
I would not be just a nuffin' my head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a brain.
Media has a powerful suggestive force on our lives.
Every home has a Mother
Waiting with open arms at the door.
And a Dad in his armchair,
As the tradition goes.
Welcome to the lounge
Where we can huddle by the fire.
TV in the corner
And - if you have them –
Dogs and cats to stroke.
Then there’s Sunday Lunch
And those daily aromas of baking.
Memories of scooping out the bowl
And eating most of the peas you shelled.
Home – a place of refuge
Where you can bring all your troubles
And have them resolved.
Our Mum kept a beautiful garden,
Resplendent with colourful flowers.
An oasis on a council estate.
As Dorothy Gale of Oz fame said before me:
There’s no place like Home.
© PB 20\11\2017.
Looks like I've started an "Every" series.