Saturday, June 23, 2007

Burning to Fly

Because now we fly
No control over this
wing veering clouds
mountains and burnt
orange horizon—
following the sun
and finding the
moon behind us

Because now we fly
higher than the air
breaking through earth
born from a volcano
shot into the world
a blazing eye of god
feathers burning the air
with sapphire spears

Because now we fly
with pure hell to pay
our debts on time
though it's never enough
for right behind you
so close the finger nails
reach your neck and pull;
the one behind us
is a bullet—has already
passed the sun twice
and we are nothing
a wing with no control
chasing the sun
since birth from
a volcano’s mouth
burning, now—crash
It'll be fine, my love


Five5six said...

God hates a Coward.

eric313 said...

But he loves a good chase, you gotta give Him that.

Whats up, fred?

skinnylittleblonde said...

Gawd, I wanna fly...
fly and be free
even if the bullets are chasing me

eric313 said...

And its that freedom to fly
that may let us flip and
leave the bullets behind
..with some care
not to flip out!

I hope and write anyway

Thanks, Skinny

the oaktree with names of stars
etched into the bare arm
swaying over my head

as always

singleton said...

I want to fly so high and fast and hard that even the falling, the crash, is the biggest ride I've ever been on.......
peace~love~lightening speed

eric313 said...

fly to the ocean
and let go the wind;
what did it ever do that
the waters can't?

eric313 said...


Bardouble29 said...

Love that picture!

benjibopper said...

no matter how fast you are
no matter how many records you break...slow one now, later fast

Susan Miller said...

And the words are your wings.

the walking man said...

Seems like drug debt had to be paid. Glad the shooter got right to the neck of the victim most people can't fire a pistol worth a shit.

eric313 said...

Thank you everyone
This was about more than flying, yes. It's not quite drugs or running from a dealer.

It's insanity and love. It is one voice calling to the only thing that matters to it, with desire only to flee with love to somewhere unknown to all. It is urgency and paranoid fear of an unknowable death. It is panic on the wing, as well a desire to exceed all boundries with a fight of fancy. It is a waking nightmare.

Thank you!

Scott from Oregon said...

you're a loquacious one, aren't you Mr. eric?

eric313 said...

Whatever could you mean? Ha.
Yes, I do indeed love the communication arts of every kind. Talking a lot leads to writing a lot. It just worked out good for me.
Thanks for the comment.

Crashdummie said...

Oh, you said “crash”!

Sowwie, selective memory :

eric313 said...

you know it. Thanks for noticing. You do have an eye for poetry and it will serve you well!