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Gets Around in My Head
by Rachel C JohnsonAmbient light
now sneaks its way into my room
at night the way it
sneaks away the stars
and nothing is ever truly dark,
not anymore.
Even the moon is lost somewhere,
though, occasionally, I can see it peer
over the lake, on the Michigan
side of life.
Everything is closer, cramped in
and tight around me,
suffocating in an intoxicating way.
And my throat longs for the freedom
of places Ive come from
where everything was good and right,
wholesome and predictable,
and nobody lost their job, their money,
no body lost their life.
It was safe, where
though we knew not where
we were going or how to get there
we believed we could handle anything,
we believed it was possible to leave.
Leaving was one thing, living is another.
And, though part of my body and my heart
yearn for the place in which safety nets were cast
around every corner, the rest would be hard pressed
to turn around and go back
to that innocence and that naivety
to that life in which I was miserable
living too far from ambient light.
Sure, I could go back, and return myself
to the state of mind I was once in, if only
to abolish this particular thought process.
But leaving is one thing, living another;
and, its important to remember
I had never done much living,
neither here nor there;
Id never been living before.
11/26/2008 Author's Note: I haven't written poetry in a while, and it isn't necessarily something I am proud of; nor is this piece, but I can over look my disappointment to post it here. Also, mainly, things don't get easier based on where you live. Some say they do, but they don't understand the definition of easy, I think.
Posted on 11/26/2008
Copyright © 2010 Rachel C Johnson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/26/08 at 01:16 PM I think it just depends on the person. You seem pretty damn tough, so I'd like to imagine you'll be fine. This poem was pretty damn good, too. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 11/26/08 at 07:36 PM ...rache, this is poetry, (is this thing on?) rache, hey, this is poetry, ok?...ok...ok.now you say much in words, be careful when you edit...one of the words you edit to "make it Poetry"[generally all our preconceived notions are preconcieved--doh!]so edit, but edit carefully, this is a poem and as gabe says a good one...more than once while reading i would stop at a word and enjoy it and the way you used it, we can speak of what we've done and what's been done to us, what we've seen real or surreal, yada, yada...this was a steady flow of a candle flickering out...everslowly! i love the title. love it. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Grey on 11/26/08 at 08:45 PM "leaving is one thing, living another." That line's going to stick with me for a long time. So true.
I really like it. There's a subtle rhythm that really emphasizes the feeling of self-reflection. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 11/29/08 at 07:41 PM Your "ambient light" reflecting difficult reality! "No body lost their job, their money, No body lost their life," reflecting an introversion that has lost touch with reality. You pose two intense extremes. Pollyanna or Apolcalypse! |
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