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 

…And when you slept I wandered the empty alleys…

peterpangosh

When she slept,

lime scented gas

filling her lungs,

I wandered the

corridors. White

wash walls. Faces,

faces…

Always someone.

When she slept,

Late Into the night,

Lights out…Silence.

So much silence.

I wandered the empty

corridors. Alone.

So very alone.

I saw  silence,

I heard empty spaces,

I felt sweet British tea,

I tasted….

Love and pain,

Hope and fear

Relief and confusion.

I bid good evening

To the security guard

A big man who wore

His soul in his smile.

I wandered out into

Dark streets and

Darker alleys

Where tears fell

With the ease of

Breathing.
And I breathed

And I breathed

And I breathed.
A lost alley,

Seeped in darkness

At the foot of medicines

Glory,  I ponder for

A moment, Wendy’s

Window and peters

Story.
Did Barrie know?

Where do the souls

Of young and lost go?

Peter’s statue stands

Proud at the doors…

I wandered up

And down the empty

Floors.
Karen Hayward ©2017

For those that do not know, J.M.Barrie gave the rights of PeterPan to Great Ormand Street Hospital  (GOSH), many many many years ago. There is a statue of Peter at the front entrance, guarding the children. ♥

Neverland caught in an eternal loop of death.

img_20160330_194419.jpg

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