Posted in Poetry

Running Wild

take my hand
     walk with me
          through these corridors
where numbered
     doorways
          stairways
               elevators

slide past us
in dull tones
of blue and beige
of grey and sage

hold tight my hand
     run with me
          through these hallways

until the flat surfaces
begin to blur

until
the doors become
ears of corn
the tiles
roll into clods
of dirt
the fluorescent lights
turn into the moon
they were
meant to be

and
we run
through
the fields
letting
the
wet leaves
slap us
across
our
cool faces
and
we laugh
forgetting
our
names

 

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

quote-and-the-wild-regrets-and-the-bloody-sweats-none-knew-so-well-as-i-for-he-who-lives-more-oscar-wilde-278285
izquotes

Join me tonight at dVerse Poet’s Pub where I am hosting Poetics and we will be writing Wild.  !!!

Author:

A wild soul writing poetry.

64 thoughts on “Running Wild

  1. Thank you for the really wild prompt, Jill! As I read your poem, I visualised it and love the way it took me slowly through the corridors – the shape looks like staircases and it slows the reading. The second stanza started to speed up, with its short lines and blur of colour. And then we started to run and suddenly there were ears of corn, clouds and moon! Dreamlike and very visual!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A break from the monotony of predictable stairs — bravo! These lines were just perfect:
    “the fluorescent lights
    turn into the moon
    they were
    meant to be”
    I like how your poem effectively created the needed transformation right before my eyes. Thanks for the prompt, Jilly!

    Like

  3. Oh, you have written this so well, Jilly! What a great turn to the wild — corn running in the night. I love the metamorphosis from staid hallway to children-inundated rows. Awesome!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. kaykuala

    letting
    the
    wet leaves
    slap us
    across
    our
    cool faces
    and
    we laugh
    forgetting
    our
    names

    How nice Jilly, to throw it all to the winds and be wild and carefree. Thanks for the prompt, Ma’am!

    Hank

    Liked by 1 person

  5. fabulous fantasy trip of skipping school and finding free time – I love the moment the pace starts to “slide past us
    in dull tones
    of blue and beige
    of grey and sage”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I think, but I am not sure, that you have just turned us all into Wild Mustangs. (whinnies, snorts, stamps the ground). This reminded me of the joy and wildness in Ursula LeGuin’s “Horse Camp” Could somebody pass the oats please…? (Super pace and thrill in this poem!)

    Liked by 2 people

  7. I had such vivid images in my mind while reading this. It was like a dream–maybe sort of nightmare-ish at first–but then happy. I suppose if you are living in a nightmare, it’s good to forget your names and start over. (Or turn into wild mustangs.) 🙂
    Love the Wilde wild quote.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. SMiLeS Not only does the World
    Need More Feral Poet Odes to:
    Pan of the Wild FoRest From:
    WildFiRE FLoWeRS
    oF MaY
    LiTeRaLLy
    MoRE PaN
    WiLL Do aLL iN
    Naked Poetry DaY NoW
    oF God FReED as Nature
    DanceS AnD SingS A Wild oF aLL..
    Thanks Jilly for this Prompt i wouldn’t
    MisS iT
    For
    A
    PriSon
    oF PoeTry
    WitHouT A SouL..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  9. A very Jilly poem for this Jilliest of prompts! Love the nod to Sendak with the parts of the building becoming the wild. I like especially that final idea of running so wild that you forget your names. 🙂

    Like

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