Imagination Spreads Wings Flies Free Poem by Terence George Craddock

my daughter Kayla summer drifted
upon warm heated sunbeams far away
from poetic thoughts 'Dying Winter Tree'
just wants to play on a tablet and draw...
a little now she had a few other poems
in that closed spent used nine year old
aged schoolbook which for her I put away
which she can word process when she is 13...

or ready if she wants or if she poems cares?
yes I agree with you free first poem came
from nowhere and at the time I could not...
even spell one of the simple words in that
poem I was strapped three times in a row
asking a friend how to spell it and the last...

time he had already written it on a piece
of paper when I had been sent back to my
chair to finish an age early primary class
assignment thus 'The Beach' was escape...
born between boy stinging straps girls tears
as a child stood before male teacher rigid
recieved class silent speechless unfair fate
words gift young do not easy free come...

most of my first poems years later came like that
a line or two free and then the work of trying to get
the next net lines from the mind to the page caught

in childhood we walk with young eyes
everything is fresh new buzzing
with curiosity appeal sun wind rain breeze
light smell sound all bids for child mind...
curiosity attention like a bird dog
traces mystery scents fast to nest source
easily distracted a flash of light a snap sound
an errant scent all can overpower time...

space awareness rushing us into looking glass
rabbit holes of reality imagination merging mind
time dissolves into play appreciation transporting...

us instantly completely irretrievably
into any thought which slays responsibility
clock fixated adult minds we are cast
adrift into all moments absorbed in now...
experiential worlds where imagination waves
wash over rock solid adult foundations
words cannot describe experiences analyse
thoughts emotions dictionary anchors do not...

yet exist implanted into knowledge fields
to define our realities without definition hooks
we are adrift afloat upon first hand absorbing...

adventures which only we can define all is first
hand all is new nothing is superimposed to limit
frame experiences emotions as Adam Eve we
are first born child walking through first Eden...
paradise where we name each space tree plant
animal new our world is as unique as first Eden
paradise until time clock adult minds reel us in
define trap collective cultural taboos traditions...

regulations yes no possibilities smothering
free first innocence imaginations forever
adults become bound rigid immorable stones
and thus in a few short minutes the draft...

for a poem in a random reply comment
to the poet John Richter is born created
in thought stream swift flowing current
to be arranged titled dedicated to John Richter...
then read by any wandering passing mind
which takes a brief slip in time to read
these swift random friend poet penned lines
imagination in concrete is now set defined...


Copyright © Terence George Craddock