Pilots and Dreamers know the dangers of a life unmoved. Rev.Speeding wind and loneliness. |
Hurling Through Life Unmoved As we fly through the clouds, the speeding wind divides. We're moving faster than sound. And yet, we feel nothing, insulated in this steel enclosure amid countless souls we’ll never meet. We’ve never heard their stories, their desires. Our cares, our worries, never crossed their minds. We sit inches away. Skin meets skin. We move and say, "sorry" for the careless touch. But still, we yearn for a gentle caress, to feel the wind carry our souls, to drift upon water, to rise with the waves. And yet, we’re paralyzed by fears of falling, drowning, losing who we are, who we love. We peer through our little plastic windows, as we journey through the darkness with souls we’re afraid to meet. We imagine ourselves standing tall upon the wings, arms outstretched, the wind roaring in our ears. Deafened by the sound of impossible dreams, we close the shades, plug our ears, and insulate our minds from the sounds of human life. We’re caught between the speeding wind and loneliness, yearning for connections, too stubborn to commit. We believe we’re safely buried in the stagnate sands of denial, only to find we're lonely, calloused stones hurling through life unmoved. But, pilots and dreamers know the secret. We can't soar through the clouds if we’re afraid to lift off. We can't be grounded if we’re afraid to fall. If we stall mid-flight, we’ll die. And if we’re content to hurl through life unmoved, we might want to prepare for a rough landing. ************************************************************* The next version is not changed other than the line breaks and stanzas. I hope the first one will be easier to read. Comments are welcome about which reads better. Thanks. ************************************************************* Hurling Through Life Unmoved As we fly through the clouds, the speeding wind divides. We're moving faster than sound. And yet, we feel nothing, insulated in this steel enclosure amid countless souls we’ll never meet. We’ve never heard their stories, their desires. Our cares, our worries, never crossed their minds. We sit inches away. Skin meets skin. We move and say, "sorry" for the careless touch. But still, we yearn for a gentle caress, to feel the wind carry our souls, to drift upon water, to rise with the waves. And yet, we let our fears of falling, drowning, losing who we are or who we love, hold us captive. We peer through little plastic windows, as we journey through the darkness with souls we’re afraid to meet. We imagine ourselves standing tall upon the wings, arms outstretched, the wind roaring in our ears. Deafened by the sound of impossible dreams, we close the shades, plug our ears, and insulate our minds from the sounds of human life. We’re caught between the speeding wind and loneliness, yearning for connections, too stubborn to commit. We believe we’re safely buried in the stagnate sands of denial, only to find we're lonely, calloused stones hurling through life unmoved. But, pilots and dreamers know the secret. We can't soar through the clouds if we’re afraid to lift off. We can't be grounded if we’re afraid to fall. If we stall mid-flight, we will die. And if we’re content to hurl through life unmoved, we might want to prepare for a rough landing. SWPoet Concrete version: Hurling Through Life Unmoved As we fly through the clouds, the speeding wind divides. We're moving faster than sound. And yet, we feel nothing, insulated in this steel enclosure amid countless souls we’ve never met. We don’t care about their stories, their desires. Our cares, our worries, never crossed their minds. We sit inches away. Skin meets skin, we move and say, "sorry" for the careless touch. But still, we yearn for a gentle caress, to feel the wind carry our souls, to drift upon water, to rise with the waves. And yet, we let our fears of falling, drowning, losing who we love, keep us captive. We peer through little plastic windows, as we journey through the darkness with souls we yearn to meet. We imagine ourselves standing tall upon the wing, arms outstretched. Deafened by the sound of impossible dreams, we close the shades, plug our ears, and insulate our minds from the sounds of human life. We’re caught between the speeding wind and loneliness, yearning for connections, too stubborn to commit. We believe we’re safely buried in the stagnate sands of denial, only to find we're lonely, calloused stones hurling through life unmoved. But, pilots and dreamers know the secret. We can't soar through the clouds if we’re afraid to lift off. We can't be grounded if we’re afraid to fall. If we stall mid-flight, we will die. And if we’re content to hurl through life unmoved, we might want to prepare for a rough landing. SWPoet 30 Lines* *Note: Edited on 8-28-08 to show 30 lines instead of 26 - no changes to poem itself-Originally 26 lines and forgot to change it earlier. ********************************************************************** Below is the original version. If you're judging a contest, please read the one above. I'm keeping the version below just for my own sake. Feel free to comment on both, if you feel inclined. ********************************************************************** Speeding wind and loneliness Across the clouds, the air around us splits Moving faster than the speed of light, We feel nothing, insulated in this steel enclosure Surrounded by souls we’ve never met, We don’t care about their stories, their desires, Our cares, our worries, never crossed their minds We sit inches from each other, skin hits skin, we move away And apologize for the accidental touch, yet we yearn For something to move us, to feel the wind Outside our little world, to feel the water flow around us But fear grips us, fear of falling, drowning, losing who we love, Terror keeps us watching, through the little plastic window As we journey through the darkness with souls we’ll never meet, Dreaming of surfing on the wing, freedom we’ll never know, We settle for tuning out the little sounds of life, Insulating our minds from our world, We’re caught between the speeding wind and loneliness, Yearning for touch, yet afraid of contact, We pull ourselves tightly in our own little cell, And hurl through life unmoved, But, my friend, it doesn't have to be that way. |