Give Me A Boat

Give me a boat.

No, give me ship.

Made from childhood fantasies, and teenage dreams. 

Fill this sails with fresh air and 

help me rip open the bubble which I have laid in

Numb. 

Let me sail in new seas and fly in new skies, 

and toss Vs to the guys 

that offered me golden anchors as first, second and third prize.

Give me doorways, not four walls trapping. 

Give me double story glassless windows,

Give me pigeon wings or eagle wings 

or any wings that will lift me soaring, touring round and round

in a costume made of air invisible to those who don’t care

but stunning to those who do. 

Give me stories of people who have done it,

who have conquered the world, 

by not being part of the world. 

Give me unfurling stories 

of heros twirling telescopes and fiery hopes in their bare hands.

Give me a plane 

Or if not 

Give me a ship

Or if not

Give me a car

Or if not

Give me blank maps 

Or if not

Give me no rules and the freedom to go where I choose and when I like.