Winter

Get high
Take me out of this town
I'm in love with your time and money 
Spent on a pretty smile like mine
And the song worries me
I am running out of lines 
Hovering instead of soaring 
How can it be that I'm flying 
Do you wanna jump with me?
Be my baby on the moon
A world, a land that is ours 
Violent kind of dreams in infinity 
Driving past the stars 
Dark and alone 
Hold on to the emptiness in outer space 
I scream out hands up
But no voice reaches sound waves 
This silence is not in my head 
And the sun keeps shining 
The golden one 
Like a Hawaiian dream
Palm trees, tiki lights 
Salty winds, the taste of an ocean breeze 
Lingering on my lips 
From licking your finger 
Tastes like love in winter
Like you used to be 
Before I fell to pieces 
Before you dropped your baby on concrete floors
I wait
Am I alive 
Do I wish I was dead?
Or is it all the same tune repeating behind these eyes
So open to the brightness
They sometimes go blind 
I breathe in the ghost of sadness passed
Exhale the fragile hopes of happiness in today
Maybe tomorrow
We live in a beautiful world 
Floating like angels on fire carved out of stone 
Heavy with the burden of the fall
Deaf to your call
My love divine, sweet winter wine 
I play the cool fool
Who knows too much to care
Headed for a good time
A real good time 
In a fools paradise 
I could drive on forever
Sunset after moonrise 
Dawn after morning tides 
Will it ever be enough?  
For this heart, this body, this soul and mind 
Of mine 
Only a brilliant fool can ever be satisfied 
There's a lack of something here
I think I'll always be hungry 
Sometimes I think it's best to never find the cause, The cure
Sorrow is art, a crystal glimmer of happiness shining when the sun glows through the window 
In an honest cut,
An honest form 
Don't obey the world they built around you,
Colour it with the spark of electricity running inside your veins. 

by Leah Ayliffe

Comments (2)

I jotted down five lines that struck me as the poetic argument snaking through the poem. I can't fit all of my thoughts in this box, but here's goes my attempt: A metaphor signals your discontent HOVERING INSTEAD OF SOARING. The quality of experience you want, indeed need is untrammeled, not just being released into flight (which I take to be a metaphor of free and satisfying activities) , but a flight which never cloys or palls or diminishes. The key line is one of self-knowledge: I'LL ALWAYS BE HUNGRY. You also ask yourself: WILL THIS EVER BE ENOUGH? Perhaps a yes/no response is irrelevant. In fact, the whole poem which seems to be one of continual disappointment really disguises a growing resolution inside to NEVER settle for the second-rate, but to persevere in pursuing some transcendent possibility. Is it out there? Only a determined seeker will know that answer.
Very lovely Leah. YOu did well to tell the change in tides of life. My favorite lines are.... Exhale the fragile hopes of happiness in today Maybe tomorrow I play the cool fool Who knows to much to care. Well done!