Balloon
I have a ballon
Red, naturally
That follows
Wherever I go
I took to calling
It Lucy, and
Let it come into
My home
Now, I’m afraid
I’ve made the most
Grave mistake
Of my whole life
For Lucy won’t leave
She’s always hovering,
Right between me
And my wife
We tried having
A romantic dinner,
Just the two
Of us there
But Lucy
Just wasn’t having it,
So she rubbed me
And clung to my hair
Now, try to imagine
My wife’s distress
It left her
Pale and reeling
When Lucy
Came into the bedroom
That night and stuck
Herself onto the ceiling
“That’s it,”
My wife said,
“I’ve had enough!
This balloon has to go.”
She ran and found
A safety pin
But Lucy
Started to grow
She grew and grew
Until she filled
The room
And I couldn’t breathe
When my wife came back
And pricked her side,
Lucy started
To bleed
Pretty soon
The two of us
Were swimming in
Warm balloon blood
And Lucy shrank
Back down, happily
Bobbing along
Just above
Now our home
Is completely ruined
And Lucy still won’t
Go away
She lingers
Just over the bookshelf
Reminding us
Everyday
That one should
Be more careful
Inviting balloons
Into their home
Next thing you know,
The balloon will not go
And you’ll never
Be alone
Did you ever read “The Balloon” by Donald Barthelme? This reminded me of that. Yours makes me laugh. Barthelme’s makes my head hurt. In a good way. 🙂
I haven’t read it, but I will check it out!
I was laughing until Lucy started bleeding blood. Then I was thrilled. Unexpected turn.
And then I read the tags and felt a little sad.
Such an array of emotions so early in the morning!
I’ll count that as a win. Thanks, Katrina!
Definitely a win! And you just keep doing what you do.
This was one trippy read! Brilliant!
Nitrous specifically? Or some other drug? Or drugs in general?
I haven’t had much of a problem with addiction to most drugs, except amphetamines, which is the subject of this particular allegory. It got so bad last year that I was regularly going 90-100 hours at a time with no sleep, barely eating, always speeding, and I was so paranoid I didn’t even want to speak to anyone. I was hallucinating, and not in the fun, let’s stare at the wall and see colors kind of way. The fucked up, I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming, alive or dead sort of hallucinations. At times it felt like a physical presence in the room, sitting on the couch, between Chelsy and I, but I’m happy to say I have been off amphetamines for almost a year now, and I’m just starting to cope with it, mostly through writing.
I’ve been there for like a month or two before I stopped. Kept doing lots of other drugs at the time though. Now I drink.
Yeah, I’ve basically substituted the amphetamines for a variety of other things. I don’t drink as often anymore, but I do tend to have any number of psychotropic drugs in my system at one time, like MDMA, LSD, Cannabis, Psilocybin, DMT… etc. I use these experiences as inspiration in my writing, and to learn more about myself and my own consciousness. Hence my claim to be a “psychonaut.”
I wish I had access to those
When I have money I take dxm some, and before i was on venlafaxine (which can give you a nice buzz if youve been off it a couple days or take a lot) I took hawaiin baby woodrose. SSRIs block serotonergic psychedelic.
I’ve actually never tried those, which is surprising, because I’ve tried most everything once. SSRIs are pure evil.
Theyre not pure evil for me
Always hated them. Hate the way they make me feel.
Its actually an SNRI
I love this…thanks for the reminder that writing should also be fun, whimsical…and poems can rhyme, sometimes. I lose my way, occasionally. 🙂
You’re welcome, Courtney! I’m no Sherpa, I get lost on this mountain myself from time to time.
Reblogged this on The Dreaming Path and commented:
Love this poem – good blog I will be following with pleasure
I just read the comments, and wow! I interpreted this in a totally different way! I like my way better. But I definitely understand the other way, as well. 🙂
Awesome! 🙂
For some reason this reminds me of my depression. And what it can do to a relationship.
Wow. This was intriguing.
Great job! 🙂
Thank you! That’s the beauty of poetry; it can mean whatever you need it to mean, and that meaning can change over time. 😊 thanks for reading!
We all have our personal balloons and they often seem piquant, even frivolous, until the downside appears and reality rears its ugly head.
Terrific poetry. Hope your experiments don’t become a scourge……it would be a true loss.
Sigh. It was bad enough to be the sort that is afraid of clowns for no other reason than that I read Stephen King’s “It”. Not the movie of course, for it was rather silly. I’ve never actually had a nasty encounter with a clown personally although I know some who have. Now, I may have to add balloons to the list and I’ve always rather liked them before. We shall have to wait and see. Maybe I should fear my imagination (and yours, of course) instead… No, that would be a terrible waste to fear imagination, for what is life without it.
I don’t know, though. It may very well be prudent to fear my imagination.
Prudent maybe…wise never. I’ve spent enough time avoiding risk. I’m following you now…I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.
Haha welcome to the swarm. 😉
Its lovely 🙂
Is it weird that lucy seems a lot like my two year old daughter?
Haha, well, I suppose perhaps not. Then again, we all read it with our own eyes, our own agendas.
Your imagination is beyond me!
Loved this one very much!