Deep in a Crack

Deep in a Crack

A Poem by mattavelli

Its a short rhyming fantasy.


Deep in a crack, where the floor meets the wall,
there's a path that winds back to a doorway so small
that the tiniest ant couldn't squeeze in or crawl,
but this story will walk you right through.

So, just loosen your thoughts to what comes from the reading
and try not to guess at the plot, where it's leading,
as whimsy surrounds us and logic's receding.
We're here, the way's open, let's go...

We step outo a land where minds go when they wander,
where artists employ what the daydreamers squander,
while philosophers stack thoughts like blocks, as they ponder;
all ignoring our casual stroll.

Many things are familiar, yet shifted askew.
Like, our shadows walk with us, mimicking what we do
and they constantly whisper about déjà vu, 
insisting that we know the future.

The horizon's a slide show of cities and field.
As we watch them go by, fantasies are revealed.
And they lure our hearts to the pleasures they'd yield, 
but that's a journey for you to write.

The reason we're here's not to find paradise
or to go up a mountain for my grand advice.
All this rhyming's a spell to coax your sacrifice.
I want space for my thoughts in your memories.

And I'll chase you all day, through what landscapes you choose,
'til, with evening, we tire and you grant or refuse
my single desire. You've so little to lose.
Let it rest, the spell is still spinning.

Looking up to the sun, it just smiles and winks.
Then it's gone and the sky holds its breath while it sinks
through a radiant spectrum to the blackest of brinks,
where it skids to a stop amid sparks.

The stars in this sky aren't like other stars.
They're an army of fireflies locked up in jars,
each containing a dream that was flung from the bars
of an imagination caged in order.

And we dance in the night, our toes tickling the grass,
throwing stones wrapped in thunder to shatter the glass.
With each burst of release, booming echoings pass
and hope's back, free to pilot the breeze.

But, as winds trade their whistle for thrashing, we stumble,
and the gusts scoop us up as the ground starts to crumble
in a great swirling storm that subsides with a mumble,
leaving me to drift in the void.

So, I've lost you, my anchor, whose eyes ruled the page.
You, who gave me a moment to soften my rage.
You were real, no mirage. I was free from the cage.
I will remember you.

© 2016 mattavelli

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think.

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I loved it....great use of words, great imagery, just plain fun to read...the ending was brilliant!

Posted 2 Years Ago


2 Years Ago

Thank you, Ellen. :)
My poems have been depressing lately. I wanted to get away from that.
Yet another great poem with no flaws
splattered brains on the walls,
yet again you blew my mind.

On a more serious note, you are one of the best poets I've read. If anything, I'm kind of annoyed I can't dedicate myself to make a poem that rivals your own but everyone has strong and weak points. Anyway have you considered releasing any of your work. I would love to add a hardcover book of your poems to my collection.

Posted 2 Years Ago


2 Years Ago

Thank you, Z! I'll find a hose for the wall. :)
Damn! Your poetry is flawless. I'm very impressed. You're one of the best poets I've come across. This was a wonderful read. Let me tell you about another poet who is quite talented. You can find him online. His name is Paul Tristram.

Posted 2 Years Ago


2 Years Ago

Thank you, Karen. :) ... You'll give me a big head. Haha
I'll check out his writing.

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43 Reviews
Shelved in 7 Libraries
Added on March 15, 2016
Last Updated on May 10, 2016




LIFE IS A PARTY. DON'T BE A PINATA. ------------------- Hello, Welcome to My page. I'm Matt. I enjoy reading and writing poetry. If you have a poem that you'd like me to read, please let me know .. more..


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