a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

flying true and straight

Should we tell our children what might lie ahead? What might be expected? Or should we paint sugar plum fairies all over their walls in hope it might be true. Which disservice the greater? Should we speak of knights but warn of dragons able to defeat knights? Should we pat pat there there and smooth tangled curls? Should we warn them that bears sometimes eat children, wolves often win and Repunzel doesn't always let down her hair? Or will they find out soon enough and forgive us our folly?

she can't dance
to the bullets craze
while all wrapped up
in Charlotte's

brought on by...

dreams cooked
in bathtime suds
whales in water grown colder
promises locked
in chests of hope
believing all that was
told her

Barbie hustled to
disney's lore
the dollar painted her passions
sons of bitches
with evil intentions
are the ones who
lathered her fashions

fairy tales and nursery rhymes
tame birds
and cats that spoke
but never warned
when the books would close
it all was just a joke
ta ta

it's not so simple
after all
Seuss not even his name
pretty ribbons of lace
and easter egg baskets
were all
just part of the game

each generation lies and charms
and promises
without deliver
streams of gold,
like flowers grown old
all too soon must wither

babies die
and uncles pervert
chemicals boil the dream
too late in Charlotte's web
she finds
all is not as it seems

so she closes her eyes
and screws up her heart
and shakes in reality's pillow
swallows a star
swims in the deep
and floats in fantasy's billow