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"A novel idea stems from an original sin" - Esme, An exercise in buddy breathing, Asphyxia that gripsya, Don't pop, For the benefit of Mr Kite., Largifical lungs, to enter your sleep as it's smooth dark wave., Waiting for inspiration., within one's favourite darkness lies one's favourite half-light
I’m holding my breath
Till the cows come home,
My eyes are widening fast.
The beat of my heart is a thunderous roar,
Will the die ever be cast?
My teeth are clenched
And my stomach a stone,
And I’m sure I’ll be here forever.
A metaphysical marvel for aeons to come,
A victim of being too clever.
For the rhymes and chimeras,
That fatten the pages,
And maketh this charmed odyssey,
See morrows all shrouded on happenstance waves;
An ocean of me and of thee.
My cockles are soaring,
Simpatico it reigns,
Two rosy cheeks now turning blue;
I’m waiting for the cows to come home you see,
I’m waiting in stasis for you.
Esme's Cloud 
Oooh I love this. I love the idea of being a victim of being too clever. Not a thing I have to fear certainly. Great flow to this, it kinda feels ‘tragically bouncy’. I mean that in a good way.
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“tragically bouncy” – I take it in a very good way Porter Girl, that’s exactly as I’d wish it to flow. nods energetically. Thank you very muchly.
And I know you’re a sharper pencil than you make out too!
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Aha then you have achieved your aim exactly! My hat is off to you, dear lady. Be happy as a bee upon your cloud 🙂
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And mine to you in return!
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😀
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Mmmmm… this my fair Lady Esme will go into my fond favorites! I am assuming this is your own delightful creation given no credits? (smiles with reserved hope)
Ah, human longing. Such a real and peculiar necessary human condition, but in relative moderations, eh? (wink)
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Yes, tis indeed from esme’s quill Professor, thank you – shakes him by the hand warmly
“but in relative moderations, eh? (wink)” – Oh yes, one has to keep a tight grip on these things methinks.
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Well, moderating the moderation is wise too you know! One hasn’t the need to not live and be very alive, whether in euphoria and/or in longing, and alll in between… LIVE!!!
(and in the utter silence the professor slowly lowers his arms from the sky and humbly walks off stage to no applause) – wink
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The crowd goes wild and carries him off into the sunset
esme grinning upon the Cloud
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Yipe! Who’s taking liberties with my rear-end!!!? (jumps uncomfortably upon the carrying)
You are too kind Lady to pander my ego. Warning! That too needs moderation. (laughing)
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Oh that’s ok Prof, your ego is just one of many that is planet-sized which have ended up perching on the edge of the Cloud. No favouritism here.
Hahahahahaha.
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“Planet-sized“??? ‘Perched on the edge‘??? “Favouritism“??? Ah-hum. On those three…
— Maybe.
— Yes, until nudged off or a fine groveling jig & juggling act; coin accepted.
— A very fine word subject to one’s flavors I think. (wink)
Ducking and diving? Ooooo…I do like a good hide-n-sneak-a-peek game! (grins)
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Yes, I agree with Porter Girl, at least in respect to the 12/8 feel of the first verse – is that called a ‘verse’, those first five lines? I’m sort of thinking musically here, as I know nothing about poetry at all. Then the first two lines of the second verse echo the clunky, leaden physicality of what’s written about – like one’s attention coalescing and collapsing one-pointedly around the clenched jaw, then the abdominal region, as if all that exists is this, then this. On then once again to 12/8 for the third, and closing with a reprise of the second’s metre. There’s a formula in all this Esme – correct? Am I way off-beam looking at it technically like that? Anyway, I’ve rather bypassed the emotional content here, though I do hope the cows come home for the narrator, and many congratulations on binding together this deep sense of intimacy along with (what seems to be) a very clever way of imparting it to the reader.
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Yes I’d say verse, they are verses, beyond that I stick to no formula at all other than knowing when the beat is right, and that may be five lines, three lines, eight lines…whatever appears really, per verse. There are specific categories of poetic verse, beat-wise, but I have nothing to do with them in any way that’s obvious to me, so there’s every chance I’m breaking rules and would have those who like poetry to be written sticking to said rules frowning and mayhaps calling it all bollocks. Which bothers me not a jot so long as they keep their iron bands of displeasure to themselves. It flows as it wishes, and that’s just as I want it.
“like one’s attention coalescing and collapsing one-pointedly around the clenched jaw, then the abdominal region, as if all that exists is this, then this.” – lovely, yes, yes, yes.
Thank you Hariod, you are very kind to impart your thoughts in such an elegant fashion for me – smiles.
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I very much enjoy your gentle ‘rebel’ ways Esme. (winks)
As I do too! And I suspect Hariod does as well. (discretely kicks the shin of Hariod, the heady Scientist)
P.S. Kidding you of course Hariod. (wink)
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deft as ever, Iniesta-like Hariod slinks past the professor’s effusive tackle [ 😮 ]
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You two. Get a football pitch won’t you?
Hahahahaha.
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Hahaha! (throws arms in air in defeat)
Why did I ever think I could stop him? (wink)
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Your wide-eyed, stone-stomached, blue-cheeked rendition of breath-holding pulled me right in Esme. Suddenly I was holding my own breath, too, sensing perhaps that upping the ante in this mighty dare might just be the thing to convince the muses and the fates we are unflinching in our resolve to be inspired. The line is drawn. Inspiration, or utter cessation.
shaking a fist pixellating with numbness at the unheeding sky
(Don’t you have some pull up there…???)
Michael
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Not as much as I’d like by half. shakes her head.
You’ve hit the nail on the head Michael, very perceptive of you, though that doesn’t surprise me at all, smiles and nods Inspiration – so often held fast in the tight little fists of the muses and the fates. It takes a certain kind of dogged determination to loosen those fingers…or go blue and fade away into oblivion trying.
“shaking a fist pixellating with numbness at the unheeding sky” – very nice indeed sir. Thank you.
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