I have started to use my old tumblr account for poetry so I might not share poetry here in the future (Don’t see this as a promise that I never will however;)). And in today’s post-publishing anti-climatic spirit I’ve written a poem I’ll share with you.
The frost roses painted on the car window freeze my insides,
remind me of a different world,
one that may have been just make-believe.
Such a lovely word – make-believe –
It’s the art of being active while being completely still,
it’s the art of thinking further,
pushing your boundaries towards what never would be.
The world I now see,
is strange, hostile and cold,
the frost roses make it harsher,
and there are just a few of them,
but it’s as if they’re slowly multiplying on the windscreen
like cancer cells, guppies, or rabbits,
fluffy white rabbits with red eyes.
I push the key into its cylinder and turn,
The happy neighbour waves at me,
sits in his car and drives away.
I’m left listening to the advertisement on the radio
asking me if I want to have a better sex-life than my neighbours.
There never seem to be evil frost roses on his windscreen,
but then he takes care of his garden,
doesn’t leave it in disarray.
I rub my hands together and pull out a reminder,
it’s a four-leave clover I found last fall,
it’s hard and dry
its potential still imminent,
the wish still unfulfilled.
And of course it’s just make-believe,
(there is that word again, taste it, it’s fresh)
but it thaws my innards,
makes me warm and mushy,
and then I turn the key again
the car starts and soon the frost roses have melted away.
I’m on my way to see you.