Poem -
Moths
Dust laden wings
Hover...Â
Drunk on the moonlit sky
Seduced by the warm summer air
They splat off my windscreenÂ
Do they value their life?
They don't seem to care
Their lives to most are like mine...
Beyond comprehensionÂ
They live like I driveÂ
Without due care and attentionÂ
Ninety miles per hourÂ
I race home to my flame
As more splat on my windscreenÂ
A realisation washes over me
Maybe we're quite the same?
I am captiveÂ
In society...Â
Anchored in the open sea
They have wings
And the open sky
They can fly...
But they are not free
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Comments
I sometimes think that they are all playing a game of chicken and accidents happen when you mess around. Great poem Syd, it really makes you think about our position, I wonder if we could fly would we be any different or would we still continue to murder and rape and fall.Â
Hi Gerard, thank you. I think we would still continue to murder, rape and fall.
Just look at the soaps (not that I ever watch them) the majority of the human race likes to see others suffer. It's entertaining to them. No one would watch if they all lead happy lives.Â
We're doomed and don't deserve saving.
- SydÂ
Damn right, now how do we go about destroying the human race, I've been working on a cloud dispersal formula that once inhaled makes us all sterile.Â
I probably wouldn't go that far Gerard ??? although I do know quite a few people who would benefit your formula for the greater good of mankindÂ
- SydÂ
Hi Syd, love the metaphor but the images in my mind come from about thirty five years ago. I was riding down to Porlock to meet some mates in the Royal Oak and I crested an unlit road. I must of been the only headlamp for miles 'cos I was hit by big fat squidgy moths like crossed machinegun fire on the Somme. It really hurt, I always wear an open faced helmet, but I got through two dodgy corners and then they disappeared as I went back down into the valley. I sort of forgot about it after that. Concentrated on the road.Â
Got to the Royal Oak, at the time the most greebo of biker haunts, the barman said "I'm not serving you looking like that, wash off those fucking moths !"
Great metaphor Syd, but really thanks for the memory more.
Nigel.
Hi Nigel, that sounds nasty (and funny!...sorry!) I wouldn't like to be riding with an open face helmet in the summer nights. My friend was really into the Mods and scooters in his teens, he used to wear one also. He never mentioned moths between his teeth but I bet it happened. Funny story.
Thanks for reading - SydÂ
What's the last thing that goes through an insects mind when it hits your windshield, Syd?
It's ass...
Nice writing, as usual.
~Dean
Ha ha, nice one Dean! Thanks for reading and leaving feed back. How are you keeping? Hope you're well.
Take care - SydÂ
I'm doin' okay I guess, Syd.
You're welcome, buddy.
~Dean
?
An interesting pondering poem on those pretty delicate moths with short lifespans. Great muse indeed. Kudos.
 Pleez also write your thoughts/comment on my newest poem, titled , "jumbo jet vs jays" too.Â
I like to know different conclusions and say hi to poets thereby in this cold world.
Hi there, thank you for reading and leaving feed back. Yes I will be sure to stop by your page when I get time. The title of your poem sounds very interesting.
- SydÂ
Hey SYD!!......it is interesting ~ the places the mind can take an insightful observer of life's intricacies...... your ability to take the reader to the place where your initial inspiration for an idea or analogy has striking clarity..... and a bit of a tease to it!!..... clever stuff my friend!!..... Love It!!.......ALL STARS!!......LOVE and ROCKETS!!......T xo â¤
Hi Tony, thank you so much for positive feedback. I'm glad you like this one. Apologies for my late reply. I too have a lot on my plate at the moment. This weekend should be beautiful though.
Love & rockets - Syd xoÂ