Poem Hunter
Sleeping In Airports
LNC (11/09/1986 / Cork, Ireland.)

Sleeping In Airports

When did this certainty become certain?
I didn’t notice it emerge.
But now it plays in my garden
And laughs when I wonder at its presence.

I fell asleep again at the airport
And had strange dreams of our distortion,
Just like an elastic band we snapped back,
Almost the same, but devoid of something.

Like a used car, just not the same
As a first time ride in a new model.
We’ll sup up the engine and spray paint
Our frames. And fool a few.

Time will sweep us away
To our tomorrows.
That’s as certain as anything.

I’ll turn away to stack my socks.
And you will get bored.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 3 votes ) 5

Comments (5)

Wonderfully original in texture. ‘Just like an elastic band we snapped back, almost the same, but devoid of something’, is articulated beautifully. Perhaps, in part, an answer to your opening question. If it ‘snaps back’ is it not now certain, much as a rubber band is sure to do so. Alas, it may break and then certainty is no more. I loved the poem! Stone
awesome....i like your style quite a bit, very original. I feel like we write kind of similarly. Of the lines that caught my eye in particular were 'now it plays in my garden', i guess that could mean a few different things, and like alison said i was drawn in initially by 'when did this certainty become certain' hahah thats great. Your quite the effective writer, i will have to check out more! - david
Again, it is the first line that demands the reader's attention. Love the used car analogy (there is something unmistakable about the 'smell' of new) and the 'stacking of socks'. You have a great poetic style - masterful in fact and an emotional depth that is very appealing. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxx
...extraordinarily well written, congratulations
Powerful analogies used here, sleeping in airports has the obvious connection but a sense of rootlessness, or statelessness, is not stated as much as hinted a symptom of the 'change' malaise. Fine introspection. Rgds, Ivan