Let us dance to the spring
It is spewing wine for us this year
But we get so drunk
With the goodness of spring
We forget the harsh winds of reality
Seasons come and go
But I am none the better for it
This winter past
I was found in the jungle
Caught in shivers of emotions
Till I let them all freeze
It was all I could do
As I lay lifeless-frozen
Before then was the autumn
Which appealed to some sobriety and reality
As I saw leaves dead and dropping
Death blowing in the autumn breeze
Please pray for their kind souls departed
Life is a 50 metre dash
Very few of us have lanes long as 80
And there was, and shall be, summer
A fickle mimicry of a hellish existence
Oh please cry for winter again
Let the cold arms comfort you
For if you shivered in the cold
Resonated with spring’s life and slowed with autumn
Then you are not made of a material
Tough enough to stand the heat of summer!
P.S.: lest you see me as cynical,
Seasons are only for “a short season”
Whilst on earth
The last autumn will come soon
Then you shall rest and be done.
With the seasons ON EARTH!
(I guess I am cynical!!!)
this is awesome, X. It rally speaks to me. It seems like you from the heart, and the flow is just beautiful, and the imagery of seasons correlating to life–in particular the “50 metre dash”–is completely revitalized! Fresh and wistful at once, you’ve outdone yourself, Magic Pen…:)
Woah! Cally, slow down there before you literally drown me. A minute please while I log on to http//:www.blamethebestonmymuse.God
Glad you enjoyed it Cally. Nice having you around.
I think your blog name should be realitycynicallyenchanted! hehehehehe this was a really good one…..love how you were E-motionless, snicker snicker, was that the week you didn’t post anything on line?? lol the best part was the “death blowing in the autumn breeze”, very nice!! people are never happy with thier life, they want to move on, or hang around in the past, they just don’t understand the difference between 100 years and all eternity! seasons come and go, there is only now!
Hehehe. Sounds somewhat apt though. Realitycynicallyenchan…
Nope. That would be for all the times I was too weak to show any hurt or doubt. So weak I could only collapse. Too weak to resist being helped by another person, One beyond my wrecked psychological defences, One above all. I was lifeless and motionless, sapped of all emotional energy.
Hmm!!! Your best line was from autumn. Charron’s best line was from autumn too -50 metre dash. Mine was from autumn too -death in the breeze. That speaks a lot. Remember what I said about autumn -season of death, reality and sobriety.
True Shards. True. @hanging on for this short season. I see you caught the last line. The rest from life’s seasons are only temporary. Then comes another world of seasons -a permanent one from which there’s no escape. We both are cynical after all. Anyway, you are the shards that pierce us in the toes after all. How can you not be cynical???
Im normally more sarcastic than cynical. I do still have a bit of hope for humanity, but only about 1% of it! hahhaha
My dear friend, I have nominated you The Dragon’s Loyalty award! Please visit this link for the rules:transcendingbordersblog.wordpress.com/2013/03/19/the-dragons-loyalty-award-2/
Many thanks, Tazein. Hope you have been well?
I guess it’s time for hand-breaking work. *phew!
here is your rotten comment back –I see it’s a massacre on green today.
Err…please remember to leave the messy/shitty remains as manure for green plants.
Notice how mine was not rude.
Now now enchanted one, play nice! Karen is a lady, she’s not use to your senseless sensibilities and hypoxic humor. I on the other hand have no qualms about your quaaludic prose. All the best Doc!
well, you know, thrown stones are relatively moss-free, –so all things being equal, along with other obscure cross-cliche/metaphorical reference,and of course: smiley face.
Looking back, I am beginning to think you misunderstood my comments on your post.
You did your word-stunts on the colour green. You dealt with it, hence “massacre”. I’d have said “bloody” remains, but blood does no good to GREEN plants, hence the alternative -shit, which works well as manure. Besides, why spoil the fun by bringing in red.
Let’s throw away the stones, Cally (even though moss is coloured GREEN). Let’s smear ink playfully on each other.
you can see where such a remark may be interpreted poorly though, surely, and I’ll stop calling you surely. All kidding aside, I try to be kind and polite and that’s my MO across the blog-O-sphere–less a lady than a humanitarian.
clean slate. > imaginary hand-shake emoticon <
Here is our friendly neighbourhood proselytizer again. Cheers everyone!
Err… She is an unusual kind that one. Same, I’ll keep in mind she is still a lady. Maddy, you are yet to hit with my poo. I hope you can stand it. Hehehe.
Hellllp! How d’u mean quaaludic prose?
Please excuse my poetic license to ill. Quaaludes dude, as in oh hum – what’s new Doc? Sleepy-ass prose. Haha, I’m just messin’ with ya, let the poo fly where it may. When it comes to literature… God Save the Queen… ill communication and all that jazz…
Cally, *shaking hands too*
Maddy, poetic license to ill then. Hehehe. Poo season, eh? Keep them hard. We want to knock out heads as well as mess them up!
Wow!!! I am blessed with deserving crazy friends.
Shards, err…yeah, you are not cynical at all!
Cally gurl, aww…that was a much nicer version of my comment!!!
What did I do to deserve such friends as these??? I am in awe with grateful horror!