Poetic Interlude : Adrenalin Junkie.


 There’s going to be a lot of space in this update because I’ve copied and pasted from Word and for some reason the format has stretched out. At some point I’ll train myself up re IT skills so I can reformat stuff – but for now, please bear with me. 😉

Poet at Rest

Poet at Rest

 Adrenalin Junkie.

 Let no-one fool you:

 It’s not a roller coaster ride.

 

You’re in an aeroplane

and you’re feeling tense;

You have an immense sense

of what’s to befall you:

 

You concentrate intensely

on your every strand

of knowledge, training,

Imagination

 

And you feel good. So good.

The door is by your side.

All your need is this:

Slide it open.

 

And you do. The blast of air

that nearly pulls you out,

sucks you in against the walls

of your every hope, stuns you.

 

You can hardly gather breath.

But you have your eyes on the sky –

It’s vast, it’s blue, it’s white, it calls you –

And of course you go, fly,

 

leave your parachute behind.

 

Wow! The air is clear, cold,

everything you ever thought it could be.

You’re free and you’re falling

Through air.

 

English: Cliffs at Gaitnip In the late afterno...

English: Cliffs at Gaitnip In the late afternoon sun. Wideford Hill in the centre, above the line of the cliffs. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Over mountains, over  housetops,

over  trees and the fields so green;

over sea, over cliffs.

And back. Over cliffs.

 

The land Is nearer now,

and you reach for your parachute

button much, much too late.

Too late to reverse your velocity,

 

too late for retrieving your life-

 

saving equipment, too late for second thoughts

And a considered plan of free-flying action

The rocks beneath and the lashing waves invite you:

With their black and white and blue they’re going to kill you.

 

1998/Janie G/ originally titled ‘manic depression’.

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