Adults look foolish – wordprompt

Give to me a life of laughter
Smiles, silly faces and random noises all submerged into an existence where *adults look foolish*
Lend to me days and seconds and weeks and minutes where the foolish look (as) adults traipsing through the playground of growing up in a world governed by Pan and designed by Tink. I am suffocating beneath the corruption of adult expectation, too quirky to grow old gracefully and to delicate to survive Neverland and the endless swings and roundabouts. My toes tingle when forced into heels, my hips twitch, my fingers rat a tat tat my eyes crawl across the landscape looking for adventure, but alas all I ever find is greyscale billboards declaring, “Do not play on the equipment of life, else stuffy adults look foolish” and I sigh, imagine myself a cherry pie, lay back and dream of clouds floating by.

Karen Hayward ©2018

 

This poem was inspired by a wordprompt I came across this morning by the talented Teresa Creation’s check out the prompt by clicking right here on this word….boom

Three word prompt #69 “adults look foolish”

 

Image from wordpress library 

Cursed cages. 

Must I carry the burden of my daemon at my side? Surely I can pick the golden thread stitches and set myself free of this treacherous power it holds on me.A shadow for Neverland perhaps, or maybe Satan will rise from the abyss to collect treasures found within, I have sold it him many times in darkened shadows of urine scented alleys for the dark secrets it possesses, perhaps he will come now as I shed myself of this torturous light. Yes, one stitch at a time I shall unpick the daemon that follows upon my shoulder a flaming phoenix she whistles a melancholic melody to the heavens or the hells, I no longer recognise. And without such a burden I shall reach for those stars that they say are outside of my reach, watch me, as I take what is mine to take, and leave behind the broken weepers that place upon me cursed cages of distraction. 
Karen Hayward ©2016

Portal of my mind. Photo prompt. 

I watch you through the portal.of my mind

as you weave indifference across the page. 

The bellwether rings, her little finger is lonesome. 

You leave behind a trail of wanton lips, lost gazes and exasperated sighs.

I slip my fingers through the safety net of words you created to stop my fall

They are written in hb pencil, I have an eraser.

I wonder as I feel the familiar tingle and pull as I search in my mind for my dark place,

Are you aware you penetrate the psyche? Are you aware when you penetrate my mind and divert my thoughts? 

Either way doesnt matter, I create a shield this time that keeps you out. I am left wondering if it worked. 

I watch through the portal of my mind, from the window seat beneath an ethereal moon.

Peter playing in Neverland.
This is a photo prompt from g+ I will link it up in a short while 😀.

Neverland caught in an eternal loop of death.

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Let me bury my head in the grains of sand

that slip

slowly

through

the

hour

glass.

Eyes closed let me divulge my fancies in the

depths of suffocation of the ticking belly of

Hooks arch enemy. Let Neverland become my

Foreverland as Tink swallows me whole and

spits me out at the pit of the roaring audience

as Barrie’s pirates whisk me away aboard a ship of sinners.

I will be the curse that drowns them,

pulling them down into Davy Jones’ locker.

Tick tock, tick tock as Croc searches the rising tide

his blood lust salivating at my offering.

Then let night fall and the sun silently implode

as darkness befalls the earth and silent stars

twinkle down at us as their life is draining from the

skies above as Neverland slowly dies.

Karen Hayward ©2016