In the surburbanned cavorting of my dirty knee youth... <br />the smells anchored me in <br /> orange slices <br /> clean cut grass <br />and asphalt <br /> <br />the sights of forever blue skies <br />of the deep end swimming pool <br />standing 20feet above with <br />the girl below <br /> <br />to be simple: a hero, a rockstar, a sports star, the dynamic battle with Satan for the sake of the girl. <br /> <br />For the price of gum, <br />friendship came easy. <br /> <br />It was bug hunting in snake and mossy canals, <br />It was Atari playing in friends' basements <br />and dirty cable at 2am. my first breast shot. <br /> <br />It was empty lots of BMX racing where our dreams lived and died, <br />dirt jumps from loved lost objects-abandoned. <br />(we put a context) <br /> <br />My friendships were celebrated in those days. <br /> <br />It was throwing eggs in the glee of our juvenile doom. <br />It was coca cola classic binges in garages and kitchens. <br />It was racing the sun home to find dinner cold but warm. <br />It was confiding to another in a hiccup. <br /> <br />Oh how those forever blue sky days. <br />They were long and now <br /> <br />...they are subtly redolent in my tempered adultness <br />The bountiful heart of boys finding the expansive in a cul de sac <br />a block from home. <br /> <br />My friendships, today, in cusped greyness <br />can be found in a menu, an electronic one, where I am disturbed from my doldrums via electronic notifications <br /> <br />I wake with the smells farther and farther away. A physical distance I am no longer to bridge. Only hoping as I trudge on through this land of rock that my Ipod will give me one last hour. <br /> <br />I risk the daylight and construct melancholic rustic buildings that shade me endlessly from the forever blue skies of my youth.<br /><br />Blaine Reilly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sound-of-the-gong-goes-gone/
