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Delta40
10-23-2012, 06:27 PM
Up above the noisy traffic,
the intersection,
the honking noise,
it's difficult to row back
without going round
in circles.
My umbrella oars
pop open,
as if their close proximity
to the clouds tell them,
'here it gets stormy'
My wishes won't navigate me safely
to where I want to be.
Me wearing my favourite bikini
with feet no bigger than a child's.
But umbrella oars never paddle
fast enough.
Not enough to escape bad memory rips
that suck you in for all eternity.
Here I wish for SOS patterns in the sky,
hoping I can avoid a crash landing.
My feet are just too small now
to walk the long distance home.

Delta40
10-25-2012, 06:07 PM
Oh come on! This is my first poem on the new Lit-Net format! Christen me....

MystyrMystyry
10-25-2012, 06:31 PM
Well done Delta! :)

I like:

My umbrella oars
pop open,
as if their close proximity
to the clouds tell them,
'here it gets stormy'

Jerrybaldy
10-28-2012, 07:29 PM
I hate the new format and love your poem .