SUPERMAN AND MORTAL

SUPERMAN AND MORTAL  

For all my hype and happy talk, I'm broken on the sidewalk,

Halo all busted and shattered into shards, littering up the neighbors' yards,

Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, recklessly careening, in the mirror preening,

I apologize to everyone for carelessly dreaming, that life could somehow be more.

I was aiming for the rooftops but wound up on the floor,

Blood spilling from every cavity, what you get for defying gravity.

You can only float so long until you find out you were wrong,

Remember when you were a kid, the wild things that you did, all in the name of escape,

You played fast and loose with the rules, you thought it'd be cool, donning Superman's cape.

Ignoring the warnings not to try, that only Superman could really fly,

You truly did not give a hoot who manufactured the Superman suit.

You were young and what is more, you just knew that you could soar.

Given the right velocity of wind, to the clouds you could ascend.

But now today you stay close to home where you have a steady bed,

And a walker and a wheelchair and a certain sense of dread,

Of tumbling and of falling and of landing on your head.

I guess the moral of the story is to forever walk the tightrope,

The thin blurry line between bleak despair and hope.

Before Father Time summons you to his castle, to earn your golden gown and tassel.

Through the magic of sleep and the alchemy of dreams,

Childhood's at your fingertips and life is what it seems.

In the end there's not much difference between Superman and mortal,

Just sprinkle down that pixie dust and slip into the portal.

-Bruce Potts 

Copyright 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

MORNING

MORNING

Morning, when i wake to find you,
Breathing still beside me,
I send a grateful prayer to heaven,
And my lesser self derides me.
For being such a faithless man,
For believing that the shifting sand,
Could pull you from my orbit.

For years I wandered aimlessly,
Lovers mere illusions,
Fairies, gnomes and blithesome sprites,
That flitted through my dreams at night. 
And I in sweet collusion,
Joined in the confusion.

Morning when I wake to see you,
Hair all tousled and divine.
Warm and tender tactile treasure,
A gift in flesh divinely measured,
To the height of my delight.

The sunrise flickers through the window,
Gratefully I kiss your spine,
Spooning in this carnival,
Cotton candy sweet in time.
Flesh and blood you lie beside me,
Far more fitting than a dream,
Every inhale, every exhale,
Rise and fall, you never fail.
Never fail to lift and cushion,
Never fail to answer prayers,
Mornings when I wake and see,
Your face upon the pillow there.

Morning when I wake and see you,
And watch your chest as it gently heaves
For fourteen years it has been this way,
Lying here silently, watching you breathe
May this love be the pastoral scene.
The way you hoped that it could be
As sprites and fairies swirl around us,
As magic fills our waking dreams.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED