Going Crazy: A Poem

Going Crazy: A Poem

Just gonna first say…oops! I’ve missed FIVE weeks of poem posts! Because of that (and because of previous occasions of missing weeks), I will no longer falsely title my posts “a poem a week” because, well, it has not exactly been faithful to that timeframe. Anyway…have a poem!

Going Crazy

I pull the string and get off
Anywhere, and I walk, walk, walk.
Sit in front of a house I like
And close my eyes, pretend I live there.
Pretend, pretend.
Daydream until it breaks my heart.
Until I’m broken.
Then I get up and breathe,
Walk, walk, run.
My feet clop-clop on the sidewalk
Because I wore my heeled boots today.
And I breathe to that sound.
I breathe, and lose, and lose,
And can’t stop running.
Away, away,
Sit down and hold my breath.
I see another bus pass by.
Close my eyes again because
I can’t scream.
I tap my toe, bite my lip,
Bring my fingers to my scalp.
I look up to the leaves,
The shining orange leaves
That are beautiful and feel like forever.
They could stay forever, in my mind,
If I choose to let them.
There’s a house with a porch
And I almost take the steps,
Just so I can stand there and pretend
I could stand there forever.
And then I remember: nothing lasts forever.
There’s a bus stop three meters away,
And I walk, walk, walk.
I put headphones to my ears
And forget I was ever here.
And so to the end, the end of days
When I’ll remember this moment again,
And I’ll think to myself,
“Boy, was I crazy.”

Catherine Joy

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A Poem A Week #36

A Poem A Week #36

This week, after I stumbled upon this poem by my favorite author, C. S. Lewis, I just loved it too much that I was compelled to share it.

 

What the Bird said Early in the Year

I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear:
This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.

Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year nor want of rain destroy the peas.

This year time’s nature will no more defeat you.
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.

This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older, by the well worn track.

This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.

Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
Quick, quick, quick, quick! – the gates are drawn apart.

by C.S. Lewis