Poem: Trippin’ Crawlin’ Learning to Fly by David L O’Nan

gray pigeons flying under blue sky

Trippin’ Crawlin’ Learning to Fly

Crawling out of his crooked shoe
His mission is to fly
He swallows one raindrop
From storm cloud after storm cloud
He shadows his face and hides.

In his ears, the harmonious peasants sing of love
He disappears,
A fading tumble into seclusion
Why does the wind play tricks on the brain?
Acting as though the whispering is real.

It is another game
We laugh at the fool
"Look at him stumbling out of his shoe"
Trap him, corner him
Into submission
Bury his dreams in with the oblivious
Pull apart the blue sky to devalue his freedom.
"What is behind those blue curtains"?

Just air, smoke, unbreathable distance?

Whistling echoes from the well
He has fallen into his long unwinding spell
Now lord help me, all that is mighty!
Give me a hand, let me stop the blind crawl
I can't see or hear the visuals, the auditory bleeding missions.

Searching for guidance
The hand that cradles you into thought
To no longer fear the frightening.

We are not a puppet controlled by the flirtatious mind of mercy
Flames become invisible
If you want to fly,
You must first run into walls.

The skin, the heart must thicken when struck by the whip of evil.

Time and time again.

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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