Fishing for Comets in a Tub

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You get cookies...lots of cookies if you don't fall asleep by the end

Fishing for Comets in a Tub


Do you remember? When you said you wanted grass, greener than mine and then you left, your golden strands of hair fluttering in the bothersome sunset wind?
And do you recall? That night when it was down pouring as if the end of days was knocking at my door?
You simply smiled and mentioned that it didn't match the colour of your eyes...You shuddered and went to take a shower...
Leaving me at the entrance watching the raindrops splashing my toes.



By morning, you were gone or maybe you never came in the first place...since I didn't bother to look after you and fell asleep on the couch...
If it weren't for the piece of paper fallen on the kitchen floor...I might've as well think it was a daydream like fantasy
You wrote: "Don't wear that perfume anymore." And next to it was a smiling face: ^_^
That was true....the thing I couldn't piece together while I glanced my eyes over you...



Next time you dropped by....You had your hair cut at least by half its initial length....
And somehow I felt sorry. You brought lunch that day. Chinese,
Yet you ended up chewing on the sticks rather than actually eating...
I couldn't look at you. Anyway, you made it tenfold harder when I was the only object your eyes staggered on.



After you got up from the table, you kissed me quick on the forehead, put your hand on my arm and kneaded it gently a couple of times
To say I was moonstricken yet again, would be an exaggeration...though I remembered what you said about quick waters and rocks....
And about all the trivia I so easily discarded...Damn!
Gotta hand it over to you and to your remorse like vanilla essence with all your whimsical merry-go-rounds that somehow keep on going without a turning key....



You know? You said stars and galaxies mess with space and time causing here and now to suffer alterations.
Fascinating as well was to cross a street and end up on the other side of one's soul as if God and His Garden stood in a clap of hands....
At that time I was feeling agnostic so I basically ignored you...
Yet you added: "You're missing on an epic love story, darling." and threw the pillow in my face.



Even now I let the words slide cuz I always was a bit on the SM frat house and the thought of this status quo everlasting
Was something I could not fathom. And you knew this and I knew that losing you wouldn't be the worst part...
Of course, now....particularly when you drop by as if to torment me and rub the knife a bit deeper in my moronic excuse of a soul,
Now, I know better....You, me and the essence ghosting by the window...



We can't be our intended halves even if we died a thousand times and come back each time either as butterflies in a white solstice or as praying mantes...
I'm just not that straight cat which found its end after the Persian white died...and you are way too self-sufficient for me to be able to cherish and protect...
Don't you hate the bittersweet irony?
Christ! You're like the toothache for which evolution hasn't found a cure....And all I want to do is find a reason to hate you.



Conundrum
is the watchword, I guess....There you are again...eating noodles and talking about the planetary tantrums
And about how TOE was doomed from the beginning and how basically nobody's meant to be happy
Because God kinda sucks at playing dices and you can't possibly begin to understand why father left...
Or maybe you do and don't like to admit...that limits are there for a reason and they don't falter no matter how hard one might scratch at their foundations.



Whatever....I hardly am the right person to talk about these issues
I, the ignorant one, who casually smiles while letting the whispers behind his back fester and sicken him.
The one with the annoying answers...the self-proclaimed king of one over the entire land of fairy tales and baked cookies...
The one who doesn't bother to take a stand and rather lets himself beaten to the punch...



"I'm such a drama queen?
"- you said. But weren't you, smarty-pants....the one who suggested to pay a trip to Oz?
To cure me of what you so condescendingly called: "insecurities" and I replied as politely and manly as one would:
"I need no cure. I'm doing just peachy." And then you pinched me, hard and added: "You're soft as a marshmallow...."
And as there ain't no light at the end of the tunnel, there ain't no way to win against you...either....



These days there's no more you...no more dancing crabs and poisonous jellyfish....no more witty remarks and giggles, chuckles or straightforward laughters...
Just me, pained by a rapture,
Guess this is what you meant by epic.....
Don't happen to know any good practitioner to mend my broken disillusions, do you?



So, this is my Hallmark get well card....a not so brilliant will that more or less asserts what an ungrateful vertebrate I am...
There, I said it...happy now? Though I'm pretty sure this isn't what you wanted to hear...you want presence by default...
You want completeness and the a good all happy-end, a crimson sky always and forever and a dog called "Flawless"
While I, on the other hand...want for the flow of seconds to come to a standstill. I want to see those shy kids holding hands and then moving into a tight embrace



I want so much more than words could possibly explain, I want Margarita like kindness, I want your soaked strands dripping on my oak, polished floor,
I want my confession never to stop, I want us back to that ilo tempore from which we so easily torn off....I want to get plastered while spelling nankurunaisa
I don't know what cicadas are but I sure want them to lighten up my September blues....
Finally I guess I'm just hopeless...and all I want to, is to atone my misery.




nankurunaisa (everything will work out in the end)

Hope you enjoyed it...




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Hmmm. I did not fall asleep. Can I have cookies? XD

What I did do was become irate.

The main issue is the massing extra words. EG:

Do you remember? When you said you wanted grass, greener than mine and then you left, your golden strands of hair fluttering in the bothersome sunset wind?

OR:

Do you remember? You wanted grass, greener than mine--
so you left; your golden strands of hair fluttering in the sunset wind.

Do you see how a simple change in structure changes the flow?

Now: this is alot of telling, a story almost. Poetry makes the story different, makes it...well...poetic. Try to shift from telling to painting. You want to paint a picture in poetry--draw out the meaning.

By the fifth stanza, you dropped into the "You know...you said....you remember...you left..." pattern. Try to mix it up, let it out.

Hope this helped!
-Evang.
Break the boundaries, hunt the hunter, and leave me a tip.
----to kill or not to kill



There are those who say that life is like a book, with chapters for each event in your life and a limited number of pages on which you can spend your time. But I prefer to think that a book is like a life, particularly a good one, which is well to worth staying up all night to finish.
— Lemony Snicket