Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath -- Poetry Grace and Insanity

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Date Posted: 12/ 5/08 11:04:25pm
Author: Leisa
Subject: Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath

Growing Up;
It's Like Holding Your Breath

Prey:
Unable to unwind because of the loss;
away from home
away from normal

Preamble:
He asked me with a smile
why was I thinking about death
and what I would wear to my burial

Solution 1:
Next time I'll bring the "death" poem
or maybe I'll make a fresh list
since there are so many to add

Enwreathing:
the thing is
when you grow up surviving
all those around you;
you a)never acclimate
no matter how many
b)think about death and mortality
more
than the average person

It isn't "morbid" as he said
it's my "normal"
unbreathing
holding every precious scrap
every breath becomes laboured
every shoe waits to drop
yet every now and then
in the middle, in the pauses
I exhale

Settle:
it's no wonder
the afflictions
I've grown over years
like vines over ruins
and wine under veins
that seep, distilled
and toxic
brain waves that forgot
pageantry
on some long remembered travail
tapestry travesty
back
back
way back when

Tired unyielding
unwilling to give up
or in
I traipse along
this crooked path

Leisa*)
12.05.08©

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Replies:

Re: Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath -- Brad, 12/10/08 10:54:13pm
- Re: Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath -- Leisa, 12/21/08 10:11:15pm
  - Re: Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath -- Brad, 12/22/08 12:23:16am
    - Re: Growing Up; It's Like Holding Your Breath -- lp, 01/24/09 9:19:31pm

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>Growing Up; >It's Like Holding Your Breath > >Prey: >Unable to unwind because of the loss; >away from home >away from normal > >Preamble: >He asked me with a smile >why was I thinking about death >and what I would wear to my burial > >Solution 1: >Next time I'll bring the "death" poem >or maybe I'll make a fresh list >since there are so many to add > >Enwreathing: >the thing is >when you grow up surviving >all those around you; >you a)never acclimate >no matter how many >b)think about death and mortality >more >than the average person > >It isn't "morbid" as he said >it's my "normal" >unbreathing >holding every precious scrap >every breath becomes laboured >every shoe waits to drop >yet every now and then >in the middle, in the pauses >I exhale > >Settle: >it's no wonder >the afflictions >I've grown over years >like vines over ruins >and wine under veins >that seep, distilled >and toxic >brain waves that forgot >pageantry >on some long remembered travail >tapestry travesty >back >back >way back when > >Tired unyielding >unwilling to give up >or in >I traipse along >this crooked path > >Leisa*) >12.05.08©
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