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By flamy at 09/07/2008 - 06:29
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He has had a mighty dose
of helium; and carries who knows
Anything else that goes
With his baby pink rose
Sighing as he gets it close
To his shiny happy nose
And sighs again as he flows
and bounces and topples and crows
Some twangy tune; all of not woes
And all for her - it shows!
Hm... "he" is a better pronoun, don't you think, than "me", yes definitely. I shudder at what ink might blotch the dailies when I'd take (or try to) an innocent stroll down the park. I personally, would like to find my balance on one limb and lift the other to some respectable height; scorning Ma Gravity; and toe it at some distance from my present position, and take its twin through the same cycle, which would hopefully result in my forward displacement - and in an acceptable manner. But no, though displaced, I just can't seem to obey the laws of inertia. I am like a charged microparticle (a hopelessly confused one at that), that tries to comprehend its designated path in a boisterously oscillating magnetic field. The co-ordinates here are quite complex. We would have to seek the assistance of Messrs. Loney or Euler to unravel my travel curve. I seem to favour the vertical axis most of the time, and then once in air, like an inflated baloon that respects Newton Sir, come down and graze some of my brethren, who attempt arduously to puncture my bulbous disposition.
It particularly gets difficult when I assume the role of a city passenger. The ticket bloke and I have become quick and fat foes. And an unwelcoming old lady with a proud moustache hosts the party of people that despise of me. It is a difficult thing to compose music when you are amidst aliens who have no feelings for the finer feelings and it is a sad condition present among my immediate neighbours, who seem to care not for my efforts to spread happiness around the place. Present in these mundane affairs is also a greeting shop fellow, who ironically has not a resourceful intelligence to reverently note down the glorious verses that I recite to my unbecoming audience. So, as I was saying, it is my deepest of yearnings, not to use public transport, for me in my present bubbly spirit have an irresistible urge to dance, to fling my arms about, thwacking other living things on board. And the whee-glee sounds that issue from any allowed part of my anatomy, help little to mollify the reddened eyes and blackened breath. So, naturally I've become a notorious object of distaste among the journey breed.
This annoying relative of either hydrogen or helium that fills me, I've found has the empirical formula that's decoded as 'l.o.v.e', a recently discovered element (by me!), which somehow always manages to find itself in my vicinal atmosphere.
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Btw, was this a riddle or poetry. You've got me confused. You seem to head over heals in love with someone.
How can this happen to me!?!