In Search of Freedom

by Larry Chamberlin   May 22, 2013


Tire memories:
I was his childhood, my donut torso
took him soaring toward his dreams
as we swung from the ancient pine
hanging by my rope-strong arm.

I loved him for his daring: at the top
I could feel him almost lift out of me,
felt his urge to discover flight;
once or more he did fly out - always
succumbing to the treachery of earth.

But then he rarely visited as if the hint
of release were more frustration
than he could bear anymore;
one day he left, never to return;
when it rains my tears collect inside
with no one to cry them out for me.

Balloon experiment:
I was his youth, I carried him through
the portal and into the clouds
where blasts of fiery gas lifted us
beyond the pale of earth's grip.

He loved my great bulbous body,
as I breathed deep in the morning sun,
just as he breathed deeply in sync
and we were one person aloft
wherever the winds chose to carry
our fortunes, adrift in the nimbus air.

Yet it was not enough for him to love me;
we tormented ourselves with fans
propellers and air rudders -
to no avail: we went where we went;
he seemed to lose interest in my taut
frame and brilliant colors;
eventually I became too unreliable,
was put to rest behind the barn
with my shriveled body stuffed
rudely in the wicker coffin.

Boat fortunata:
I am his life now and forever;
my white flesh skims the waves
as he caresses my mahogany
interior, spinning the wheel,
calling for the boom to swing;
I capture fickle wind in my cheeks
and blow it out to the side
without a fig of concern that
it gusts the wrong way, for we
form a symbiotic team and take
the breeze as an unwilling accessory
and still go where we will.

Going about is sheer nerve and wood:
cloth stretched so tight it whistles
as he pulls my chin into the force
of the blow, I lean to the side, shoulders
nearly to the vertical, my keel & rudder
slicing through the water like a hand
in the wind before he decides
whether to jibe or restore the tack.

Days we spend out to sea together
and I sing to him through the ropes
and we laugh at the dolphins
as they tumble through my wake;
we silently glide into some lagoon,
tie my sails and toss anchor
so that just he and I converse
with the tide and the shore.
Soon enough we will again
fly away on freedom's wind.

Challenge poem with the following prompts:
tire swing
hot air balloon
sailboat

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by Meme

    You wrote this with such a deep and wonderful emotion. I found myself nstolgic about a lot of stops in my life just by reading this piece.

    Simply amazing :)

  • 11 years ago

    by Jenni Marie

    ""when it rains my tears collect inside
    with no one to cry them out for me."
    "with my shriveled body stuffed
    rudely in the wicker coffin."
    I found I really liked these particular lines, they were so unique and moving and it really allows me to feel the pain that the tire swing and the balloon is feeling here. I love this. I thought the author used these objects perfectly and the way they showcase someone growing older and outgrowing them as they become an adult is beautiful. I adore the imagery conveyed in this poem, it really is elegant and dazzling.
    "Soon enough we will again
    fly away on freedom's wind."
    I adore the hope here and I enjoyed how even though the author paints loss and pain previously, they end on such a positive and uplifting note. I thought the author did a magnificent job at bringing the objects to life."

    :)

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