A Small Chitchat

Ambling on the heap sullied soil,

A zephyr from the wild blue yonder

Appeared very slowly and very softly

And grabbed my back so very gently

And bit by bit my feet started to swing

As if a leaf saying farewell to its knot;

“Shivering and scared stiff to death,

For never again would I see the earth

And all of my materials,” I whispered.

Then a tone at a snail’s pace echoed,                                  10

“You’ll have new wealth on a safe spot,

Where there is no appearance of oil

That can blacken the core of your soul.”

As I laughed as if with my best friend,

The voice loudly sighed, “Not time yet,

For you might exclusively feel regret.”

Again, laughingly, I said, “Yeah right,

You better get me down with seconds,”

And then added, “as I thought you liar.”

However, nothing was uttered further;                                 20

Thus, I conceived of the sullied soil

On which I dwelled as if an outcast

And I mellifluously uttered, “Why not?”

Up and up and then up, I let myself go

As though escaping from a wicked foe;

And owing to easiness, my toes curled

As if a dog does its strong and furry tail

As hearing from its master within hail,

Its name, after totally being abandoned

And now the past’s assuredly condoned.                              30

Sleeping on my back hands under head

As though being recumbent on my bed;

I stared at iridescent ranks of stars.

As aiming only for the wild blue yonder,

At the top of my voice, I asked, “Why?”

Then slowly added, “Aren’t we yet there,

For I am scared and yet about…to cry;”

But putting the right index finger on lips

And whispering, “Have…some nips…”

“What?” shouted I, “this is very rude!”                                 40

By dint of that, I was taken to the cloud

But lines of lights were as if from cars.

And I thus realized I was in right hands

And then, when girdled by lots of winds,

I implanted a colossal smile on my face

As if being ready to take a nice picture

As if not care about the, uh, uh…future

And at last, without cerebrating twice,

Yet smiling, I uttered, “Somewhere nice.”

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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