Now you know I'm made of stone and only dream
of flying and shall never stop until I fall and die,
though at present it feels as if I'm falling, but I'm
stalling in accepting this Requiem of Death
Always believing tomorrow will be another day;
I'm in need of stimulating conversation, oh, God
in Heaven, the stuff I find on earth is killing my
soul and smothering my life - how can we all
be without any growth or changing of direction?
I know the magic must first be in me myself, in
my prism-thoughts and feelings; it cannot come
from outside, but the fountain has run dry
Temporarily, I surmise - still; a little death is still
dead and losing something, even only for a while,
is just too much to bear in stony silence! I feel
like screeching in high-pitched soprano -
'I'm bored, I'm suffocating in the nothingness;
help or let me die and find the lovely regions
of the notorious afterlife - in the sky! '
What terrible judgment can you or anybody
else pronounce over me so I can become
contrite and reconciled with my fate of
living such a boring life –
I KNOW the fault is mine; but telling me
off as being bad might awaken my dead
conscience and motivate my crocodilian
hand to start writing a translation
More boring than desert sand and just as
suffocating – which still enables me to be
free in between - by living life
in cyberspace!
good poem about certain truisms of life - but just 'certain', and not the ones that truly matter after all. and you got it all, you know them all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice write Margaret, but with a touch of sadness, boredom comes and goes in everyone at one time or another, now don't get lost, in cyberspace! ! *10*! ! ! Best wishes, Friend Thad