"When reliving the past was too unbearable
I would conjure up the future"
This definately caught me. Although I do have good memories from the past, it has always, always been a habit of mine to "conjure up the future," a future that is everything I want and I am satisfied that I am able to imagine it, satisfied enough with it in my imagination so that I don't mourn over it not coming true.
"and when that pealed
I'd conduct my life form beneath my eyelids"
The word peal throws me off here. I looked it up, and it has to do with loud sounds and summons. I assume that this means when the speaker finds imagination appealing, well, my first thought was of him or her turning into some kind of mega alien. (Been playing too much Ben 10 )
"Forming
Depicting
Discovering
Erasing
Redoing"
I love lists in poems, and this one comes in perfect timing. The ideas form, the solidify into a picture, the speaker discovers something wrong with them, he/she erases, and begins over.
"Believing myslef
deceiving myself"
He decieves himself with belief in his fantastic imagination. That is one thing imaginitive people must learn to do: recognize the barrier between imagination and reality.
"Drone, I now sit.
Lonesome
My cry immortal
Yet never utterd"
Sitting and dreaming, but the pleasant dream becomes a pain because it won't come true for real. wow. This yearning is never been uttered, but has been burning within the person's soul and continues to burn.
"The silence was only mute
because of my actions
My imagination took the life I onced happily lived"
What a wonderful sentence. My imagination took the life I once happily lived. When the speaker started imagining things that he wanted, that were in reality impossible, he found his real life less than satisfying.
"Every breath can now be redone
In the room I lay
Nevertheless my illusion stimulating
My passion alive
My happiness ever forward?
My fear ever overcame?"
Whatever ruin he has caused because of his imagination can certainly be repaired. However, imagination is tempting, and imaginary passions are strong. They whisper to you: "happiness ever forward."
"My, My what have I done?"
A perfect finish. All in all, this was a great read. (And I actually didn't have to read it over at all, I commented as I read for the first time.) I'm surprised that the idea I had in the beginning, of how I keep my imagination seperate from real life, is the theme that I find in this poem. My favorite lines are the two in the beginning and the one at the end. In your own words, great write, Buster!
ok let me start by saying that, why are u in my head? my plan didnt work it never does. what have i done? is what i ask myself everyday. so yeah good observation.
Submission Name: An Image too Lonesome
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