If anyone could hear this,
If anyone could feel this pain.
It's like a knife wound covered with a band-aid,
The surface looks ok, but underneath...
Underneath...

There's a bowl of vanilla perfume and i have a Flower petal to float on.
There's an elephant by the river side,
Rocking the boat.
I'm going to die.

The serated knife edge digs deeper,
Asking me questions in another language.
There's a mouse at the elephan't feet,
But neither one of them is scared.
I am.

Another mouse on the mountain,
Calling to me with it's eyes.
It wants me to jump into the river,
But i don't know what it means.
All in time i suppose.

The river swirls in on me,
And i can hear singing.
The bowl is moving,
And it is moving me too.
I'm drowning in vanilla purfume and not a mouse alive will save me.

But maybe i can save myself.

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JAMES:*facing impending doom* whoever said beauty doesn't last must have been thinking of us.

[This message was edited by Madogis on 09 January 2004 at 08:05 AM.]

Interesting images.

I like the optimistic twist at the end very much. It stops the poem from being just another soppy melodrama.

I particularly like the contrast of the tiny mouse not being afraid of the giant elephant, unlike the narrator.

Did Taronga inspire you?

~~~~~~~~~~

Who did you think I would be? - HA! - well you got me instead.

no, not taronga

i just happen to have all these things sitting on or around my desk: bottle of vanilla purfume, dessert bowl, elephant carving, computer mouse below it, toy mouse above it, steak knife, packet of bandaids, own sense of morbidity and twisted optimism

well, the toy mouse did come from the taronga gift shop

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JAMES:*facing impending doom* whoever said beauty doesn't last must have been thinking of us.

[This message was edited by Madogis on 09 January 2004 at 09:57 AM.]

i like your inspiration. excellent exercise--i'll have to use that one sometime.

i'd rather be having a mouse save me than one of those tigers or crocs from the what if thread, eh?

WHAT WOULD XENA DO?

are you sitting on the soap?

It's not the Fates; it's not Ares; it's not something I ate; no, I have no poison dart marks; I have no Bacchae bites!

hehe, yeah

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JAMES:*facing impending doom* whoever said beauty doesn't last must have been thinking of us.