I
when I look at him frozen stiff, atop algae-bound playground slide, I see time watch with bated breath for a nanosecond. the little voice above whispering that some things are permanent, and eternal, and endless.
but we all know how things turned out, turn out, will forever turn out. still better to take the plunge than return the way you came. always happens - little boys trapped for that endless eyewink at the top of the world. they all come tumbling down somehow.
thinking that they're flying, arms, legs, flailing in all directions "down the long slide" faster, still, till the blue line divorcing sky from sea dissipates; till all around dissolves in a flurry of past memories, old songs, dying fires. and when you swallow that mouthful of sand you find that sky looks like sea, and sea looks like sand, and you don't know better.
II
pretend as we may that the spirit never dies, believing as ever in the timeless lie - you fall, you get stronger, as the dawns grow shorter each frozen instant let slip, is reclaimed.
"I fall, I fall, headfirst towards warm orange glow below. lightning scratches across sobbing sky another crazed calligraphy. Charlotte spins no thread of salvation, Gossamer webs glide gently down. Deft hands to these lifelines, snip. Whistling guillotine blade sings sad soliloquy. Old man plays familiar song."
III
and then, hitting rock-bottom, I remain in soundless playground world. sitting silently still on swiftly spinning carousel nighttime world continues revolving, revolving. walking towards the centre where all spins a little slower, I gaze up at the infinite sky, the cookie-faced moon on opposite sides of the drum, spinning round in star-struck moondance wondering.
back where I came from, perhaps I never left. above, the great black air parts wisps of cloud which shield the stars, which are nothing, and everything,
and laugh themselves to pity.
when I look at him frozen stiff, atop algae-bound playground slide, I see time watch with bated breath for a nanosecond. the little voice above whispering that some things are permanent, and eternal, and endless.
but we all know how things turned out, turn out, will forever turn out. still better to take the plunge than return the way you came. always happens - little boys trapped for that endless eyewink at the top of the world. they all come tumbling down somehow.
thinking that they're flying, arms, legs, flailing in all directions "down the long slide" faster, still, till the blue line divorcing sky from sea dissipates; till all around dissolves in a flurry of past memories, old songs, dying fires. and when you swallow that mouthful of sand you find that sky looks like sea, and sea looks like sand, and you don't know better.
II
pretend as we may that the spirit never dies, believing as ever in the timeless lie - you fall, you get stronger, as the dawns grow shorter each frozen instant let slip, is reclaimed.
"I fall, I fall, headfirst towards warm orange glow below. lightning scratches across sobbing sky another crazed calligraphy. Charlotte spins no thread of salvation, Gossamer webs glide gently down. Deft hands to these lifelines, snip. Whistling guillotine blade sings sad soliloquy. Old man plays familiar song."
III
and then, hitting rock-bottom, I remain in soundless playground world. sitting silently still on swiftly spinning carousel nighttime world continues revolving, revolving. walking towards the centre where all spins a little slower, I gaze up at the infinite sky, the cookie-faced moon on opposite sides of the drum, spinning round in star-struck moondance wondering.
back where I came from, perhaps I never left. above, the great black air parts wisps of cloud which shield the stars, which are nothing, and everything,
and laugh themselves to pity.