Time Stood Still at the Drive-In

Time Stood Still at the Drive-In

A Poem by Brenden Taylor

I was at the drive-in

with two of my good friends.

We were watching the latest new

freak-show of a movie,

trying to figure out

the psychologically twisted plotline.

Needing to give my eyes and my mind a rest,

I turned my head to the right of me,

 

when time stood still.

 

The gravel on the ground

grew great under the grandeur of the sky,

almost meeting the horizon

with its coarse soul.

The clouds in the night air

were a dull purple, perfectly blending

the heavenly host and the city below

into a smear of forgotten nonsense

that hovered over everything

and made its second existence

on the gravelly parking lot below.

 

Scattered

around the perimeter of the area

were knee-high garden lights

radiating with a blue-white hue

that made them seem like

stationary orbs of hope,

only meant to be encountered

in small doses,

because such happiness all at once

isn’t supposed to happen in this world.

 

Limbo?

 

The place where

everything stops,

and for one second,

you can think forever,

let your mind wander

without worrying about

what you want and where you were

and who you are.

You can remember the past,

change the past,

change the present,

see the future

all between the height of your aspirations

and the pit of reality.

 

A place where you can relive

every relationship you’ve ever had,

the bad ones that make the good ones

that much more beautiful.

 

You see the music that you’ve heard your whole life,

except now you see it floating in the air,

making melodies and humming harmonies in the soft wind.

 

In the distance, you see

one point;

it’s a crossroads, an intersection;

the horizontal axis is

everything you could ever hope for in the life,

and the vertical axis is

everything you can ever interrupt that hope,

and you can’t help but feel that where you’re at

is where you’re supposed to be at that time.

 

You feel in control of so little,

and you feel overwhelmed by so much,

that the only thing you know you can safely do

to alleviate that heavy pressure in your lungs

is breathe,

in long, slow huhs,

and think about where you go from here.

 

I was at the drive-in,

and all of this happened

in a second.

© 2011 Brenden Taylor


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

144 Views
Added on August 23, 2011
Last Updated on October 16, 2011

Author

Brenden Taylor
Brenden Taylor

Shelbyville, TN



About
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Jesus the Christ I am Brenden Taylor. I hope you like what you find here... more..

Writing