Alexander Coppedge

Rookie - 75 Points (June 25,1954 / Warrenton, North Carolina)

Downward Fall - Poem by Alexander Coppedge

I in my living journey am not a mighty super man,
my designed form has no flight, you see,
life dream didn't want for me this endeavor.
Adrift and sadly alone, I am in chilled autumn sunlight,
me pondering in mind given emotions,
I'm falling,
I can not flee or fly, my limbs lacking feathers.
Gutless in my form, I am, I can't release my inners,
me flipping at times, I in violently rapid turns,
head circling in a spin with mouth opened wide.
I having lost my barrens, as I tumble in swirls,
my consciousness emptied, me trapped in a fog,
eyes perception of event seeing just a whirl.
Shell slides from side to side, not rhythmic in my motions,
I'm in a definite, me in constant descent,
a gravity fall for me clearly, me in mid air going down.
My drop is off a tree, I once gripped,
that high branch, in the air up there,
I in a plunge, me now in a constant fall.
Journey for me, tour is nerving to say,
slip is a certainty, from the branch above me,
a glide to me in assurance, for me downward for sure.
Body breaking away, from tree in my grip somehow,
flashed clips of life, blurs passing by my eyes,
frames of me in timed lapse, moments as I fall.
I am grabbed by unseen forces, to become whipped in tosses,
me whirled, and snapped in wind currents,
legs to become toys, flipped over my head.
This descent for me is unavoidable,
me to go back up there upon the branch,
despite my all challenging efforts -no way.
Thought of end assured and confirmed to me,
mind displays dangling vivid colour memories,
my fall in its wisdom, I can't pretend.
Abyss void within its turbulence holds me,
eyes see a stop, knowledge of me knowing,
I am in a drop, me approaching the ground.
Green light in the air was for my go,
earth closing in to seal, my soon fated end,
red light becoming my ground.
Grave turning me right for moments,
I again briefly feeling life hot sun blaze,
my touch of joy, with my smiling death frown.
I being as others decayed by changing seasons,
backwards rolling left upon my other side,
my vessel pre-destined end was to come to fall.
While I fall, I yelling no utterances,
upwards at times I soar in wind care,
aimlessly slow in my speed descent down.
Arms in my youth did stretch out,
time has changed them,
my limbs now curled my body around.
My slip was promised to occur in Fall,
me being a leaf,
me dropping in life's sunlight.
Down.
Down.
Down.

,

Form: Prose Poem


Poet's Notes about The Poem

The season change to autumn

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 7, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, July 27, 2015


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