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06/14/26 4:59:58pm [ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ]

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Date Posted: 08/ 2/08 1:30:35am
Author: Dimon
Subject: Vertigo (1st edit)

Let Loose
we have a large back-yard
with a couple of old oaks
and a perimeter of young,
thick bushes sprouting wild shoots
we pretend are x-wing fighters.

"Go play, unless you want to help me clean"
Mom's code for she's going to sleep.

I walk through the yard,
wondering about double meanings.
When I reach the clothes line
my mind is full of everything:
all of those tales about heroic princes
and needy princesses my mother
would tell us at bed time,
all the news shows I sat and watched
with my silent father,
every scripture and verse I'd memorized
from the King James Bible,
the deaths I had witnessed,
the births I had witnessed,
prophesies, parables, proverbs,
every sound, image, and touch
I'd ever had
came rushing into my construct (until i find a better noun)
all at once
then the idea of heaven
of eternity spent in a far off place
eternity
forever
ever and ever
stretching out beyond imagination.................


I woke up on the ground,
staring up at a damp sheet
my stomach doing donuts
and nausea directing traffic.

Numb, stretched out in the cool grass,
Vertigo, I accused, had claimed its first victim.


Three years later
Pacman is at my mercy.
I've got the perfect video-gamer posture,
the perfect rhythm,
even at ten years old
I own this machine.
My whole world right now
in this Blue Springs arcade
is
"Wacka Wacka Wacka Wacka Blump Wacka Wacka"

I'd watched Reagan get shot,
I'd played a cardboard guitar as Page
for the talent contest
I'd sang lead in the holidays pageant,
though all that matters right now is
not dying.

In the background, behind the ghosts,
I hear a soft sob.
Turning, my eyes lock with the ice cream guy.
For some reason he's crying.
I look at the girls who are always at the counter
(they are much older, and sexier than me)
and they are crying.
I turn to where they all keep looking
then looking away
and it's a tv
changing from image to image
of an image of
a skinny bearded man with round glasses.
My attention fully envelops the broadcast.

Nothing. There is nothing of interest here for me.
Everyone is crying and I don't understand.

Three weeks later I am at the same arcade
only playing Joust
and owning.
I can hear in the background a song playing,
something of mourning,
something of eternity.
Automatically I turn to the speakers mounted above the
ice-cream counter
and all of a sudden
the life of a man
I had known through music
always played by others
and the genius
the scope
of
of
what is it that
someone in awe of eternity
and challenging
to perfect......

Numb, stretched out in a hot arcade,
vertigo, I accused, was getting redundant.

Even at ten, I knew Lennon and Jesus were cut
of different cloths,
but to live a philosophy....
to contemplate mortality
in all of it's facets,
I dunno.
I wonder what made them fall down?
MD


BTW The song was Empty Garden my Elton John.

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