Sorry about the hissing sound

redux

a hundred years from now,
it won't matter what i did today.
because the world will keep on going
while i slowly decay.

everything i do right now,
will be forgotten over time.
the only impact i'll have
is right now, in my prime.

it's my only time to love,
laugh and cherish
before the time comes
when we all must perish.

if i could do one thing,
while i'm still whole and real,
i wish i'd finally stand up
and tell you how i feel.

:)

this is the kind of poem
i haven't done in a while,
but writing one now,
i can't help but smile.

a small glimmer of hope
that all will be as it should,
and everything that's inside
will finally be understood.

and even if it's impossible
for things to be that way,
i'm just simply glad
you made me smile today.

寫

hey you,
sit down
and do it.

no excuses,
start now,
stop later.

do it so i
know more
about you.

once upon a time

imagine when you die
you go on a really long vacation
for all eternity
somewhere in the sky.

everyone who has ever lived is there,
well - almost everyone,
and some say pets go there, too,
to this magical place.

your grandparents are there
(but are they still old?)
as is your best friend
(didn't they die young?)

on this vacation you relax,
and spend your days
in pure bliss and joy
without any worries at all.

but without electricity,
what will you do?
how do inventions prosper,
and who invents them?

wouldn't your family annoy you,
if you spent eternity with them?
oh - of course not!
this is a fairy tale, after all!

where there are no diseases
because a powerful unknown force
keeps them at bay....
and no one is ever sad
because a powerful unknown force
keeps everybody happy.....
where you never age a year
because a powerful unknown force
stops all concepts of time....
and you'll wait and wait
while a powerful unknown force
sends your children to this place....
where you don't need science
because you have faith
that everything will be OK in the end.

/warning\ wrong way

it's a lot like walking
up an escalator
the wrong way
for a long time.

you want to reach the top,
but you can't
run for fear of falling
or stop and give it up.

so what are you to do then,
when the top slowly shrinks
and starts to look
further and further away?

stop and wait?
let the top come to you?
continue to fight?
what are you to do then?

orange soda?

all the time i wonder
about holding it in my hand
until it gets warm.

pressing my lips against it
just long enough to know
i made the right decision.

but it might be best
if i didn't tamper at all
with the perfect Crush.

fly

probably my favorite poem i've ever written

a wish for a day,
the ability to fly.
a world in which to play,
through an endless sky.

flying for miles and miles,
my new wings so tired.
rows of cities like aisles,
as i soar on, inspired...

the wind carries me,
seamlessly like a dream.
the ground is gone, gone,
and the sun but a gleam.

but the best part of this trip,
isn't the sensation or the view.
it's when after all day long,
i finally land next to you.

atleast one will understand

i lie on my back
and stare up.
it's dark out,
and kind of chilly.

ever stare at ceiling tiles?
so many little holes -
like an ant hill
you ponder stomping on.

the floor is hard, cold,
and starts to make my ass hurt.
it gets warmer and brighter
as my a/c finally starts up.

i hold a book to read it
until my arms get tired,
then it's back to the tiles
that form pluses and crosses.

soon it's too dark to see the holes,
and i only see the smoke detector blinking
before the street lights shut off
and it gets kind of chilly.

if you google my name, some links come up with poetry from some other kid named stephen townsend.

none of those are mine. i only write poetry here.