PART II - 5 FRIENDS
RAIN MAN
The sun danced across the river's glass
In a ballerina sway.
The auburn-haired maiden
stands kerb-side this day.
Black cabs swarm in hornet storms
With pollen-yellow beacons.
The metropolis puffs and pants with life,
What gift is this girl seeking?
Green man beams down, returned to Earth,
He beckons the people parade.
She bounds across the barcode of zebras,
Vivid memories of journeys past made.
With a hop, skip and jump, in her palm rests, cherished,
A lone rose for the man she loves.
But her passion is secret, enclosed in a chest
That this day shall release all its doves.
A shriek of rubber on road, horns melt into tears,
The traffic, a toddler, it bawls.
A rocket launches, hurls her feet in the air.
No gravity, she floats, she falls.
Weightless, life wanes in her eyes, no longer
full moons like the orb newly risen
In the canvas of sky, stars splattered in paint.
Day to night, it was God's decision.
She clatters on concrete, a sack of bruised bones,
Sultry breath brushes her cheeks.
A boy's in her arms, his heart pumping, a piston,
Truck-struck too his fragile frame weak.
Yet with one swipe of his hands, with one swoop of his legs,
Rod upright, he cradled the maiden.
Flames flew, a phoenix, from hot, mangled metal.
The wreckage, heartbreak-laiden
From the hazed blaze of sorrow, the pair arose,
Her limbs limp, her tongue lolling.
The clouds prised apart by a storm's iron arms,
Walls of water cascaded, falling.
The little boy shuffled down a thronged thoroughfare,
The ocean of traffic can't flow.
Maiden sprawled in his arms, is she deep in slumber,
Or were demons with her long ago?
Will she plummet to hell, where the demons dwell?
"Not for now," the boy grimaced and marched.
As he turned a corner, his rags sodden, skin-clinging,
His broader back lengthened, unarched.
The floorwards flood would never cease.
The forever night kept shrouded
Her cashmere skin, fuschia bow in fringe,
The boy so grateful he'd found it.
The street wore on, unchanged, bright headlights gazed
Into his eyes, searching for answers.
He had none to share and nor did he care,
Now a teen, he was desperate to ask her
What her doves would sigh if they were let loose,
But his train of thought derailed.
As his face was bathed in crimson blood,
As the Lord's rain morphed to hail.
The teen plodded on, his soul long gone,
Feet sunken in quicksand no more.
As he carefully played the Grim Reaper's game,
He would lose if she fell to the floor.
Stones of hail smatter down, each an anvil itself,
His cheeks sallow and browned with dried blood.
Stems of stubble sprout from peach soil of his chin.
The youth wades through a park's knee-high mud.
With his feet blistered red, they slowly bled.
Until within a copse he halted.
Thunder calls, amber trident of twilight.
His tears taste bitter, salted.
The seed of responsibility, love,
faith and grace and hope,
talent and wisdom, kindness and friendship,
in his heart began to grow
And flourish into a veteran oak.
He took great gulps of air.
She's an infant, vulnerable, he thought as he blew
New leaves into her air.
His legs jump-started, his heart departed,
the youth and his maiden soon followed.
The terrible torrent of heavens raged on,
Eroding him, leaving him hollowed.
Earth strobe light's flickered, jagged scar of skies,
Made his shoulders expand within seconds.
He emerges on streets, where the crossroads meet,
Has his burning courage lessened?
He follows a stream, poured from gutters it seems,
nuzzling the maiden, close to his chest.
His bulging biceps cloak her in warmth,
Of what he can manage, it's best.
The night-tide is Arctic, his pale, pallid flesh
Almost bare and naked to nature.
Life wafts from her pores like steam from a kettle,
She must live but he can't make her.
The downpour drives on, the man's trek has been long.
In agony, he arrives at a porch.
He lays her to rest in a basket of bliss
Where she'll bask in the light of Life's torch.
...
She arouses, her vision like blurry white noise,
Her memory loosely threaded.
But deep in the delves of her mind somewhere is
One more decade of knowledge embedded.
Warm and close to her arms, is a man's beating heart,
The original receiver of roses.
He loved me back, and that was that,
So we're married, she supposes.
Oystered in duvet with the man of her dreams,
She recalled who carried her home:
It's not the man embracing me.
Surfaced snapshots of long ago -
An ethereal air, his locks snowy strands,
Arms of whispering, wispy white.
Black iris in eyes, his formless feet
Float an inch above ground in the night.
When he'd left her to be, into history,
The man faded, a tragic sensation.
Like the harrowing rains of eve long ago,
She now flooded with realization.
He had perished in God's accident,
His soul soars in the embers.
In a ghost's crib she was carried homewards,
For eternity she'll remember.
The accident had changed her,
Made her thick-skinned, strong as willow.
As her petalled fingers happened upon
That same rose under her pillow.
Notes
- I have used a variety of tenses ON PURPOSE because it adds to the state of confusion in Water's state of mind.
- Some verses run on to each other (Enjambement. Oooh! Fancy word!) to show how relentless the pain of his journey is.
- The boy growing to a man as he carries the girl home (the girl in this case representing the burden of difficulties that living your life in the real world throws at you) is symbolic of the journey I have to take and how much I will have to grow mentally to be able to face up to my fears.
- The boy/man carrying the girl represents 1) my want to have and care for my own girlfriend (not Water, we're good friends and she's hot but we're still friends) 2) my want to be a strong man capable of looking after not only myself but others too 3) that Water will have a partner who will mind her forever.
- The boy/man turning out to be a ghost is representative of my fears that things that appear to be going well, are in reality as bad as they could possibly be.
- The rose represents the happiness and care-free life Water led as a child and that she will return to once she is done and dusted with this illness.
- 'Earth's strobe light' is lightning.
- 'her memory loosely threaded' is in reference to traumatic repressed memories of mine.
- The mention of God, the Lord and the Grim Reaper is referring to the idea that maybe are lives are influenced by more than just biology... don't worry, I'm not going to get all holistic and spiritual and crap, I'm just writing poetry!
- The 'green man' is on a traffic light and the 'barcode of zebras' is a zebra crossing, in case you didn't know.
- The 'demons' are anorexia.
Keep an eye out for a poem about indecision titled 'Pirouette'. Keep reading! And a huge thank you to my 2, I repeat 2, followers. THAT'S TWO MORE THAN ON MONDAY! YAY! I'M JUST SOOO POPULAR! Okay, I'll calm down now...
:)
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