A Place From Which To Wish Upon Distant Satellites by Chris McKinney

When I leave youChris McKinney

I’m happy, ecstatic even

To vanish from the pebbles

I dream are mountains,

And when I do reach those mountains

Flying like Icarus to their tops,

Where I can see an entire new world

I realize I can’t see the place I’ve left.

I spend my days foraging for gems

Among diamonds shining like glass.

I spend my nights among city lights

That blaze like second suns

In comparison to the stars I’ve known.

Sometimes I search for a bed

That happens to be my own.

Soon, all too soon, the magic becomes mundane,

The hyperborean becomes humdrum.

The street dancers with three-feet legs

Become hobnobs on wooden pegs,

And the acrobats become serpents.

Where I had thought myself a green lion eating the sun

I realized I was only eating lies, and vomiting nightlife.

How easy it is to fall in love

With something you can’t comprehend.

So I return home, to the open arms of the familiar

Where I’m met with a me I know, remember, like.

A me that, sometimes, even surprises me –

Because it’s a me that will do it all again,

If only to be that boy again

Wishing on a distant satellite.

~ Chris McKinney

Chris McKinney graduated from the University of Kansas with a degree in literature. He works as an IT specialist. Go figure. To the Stars Through Difficulties, the Mind’s Eye 2010, and Coal City Review are just a few of the publications to house his works. When he is not writing he is painting.

Guest Editor James Benger is husband and writer. His work has been featured in Coal City Review, Comma,Splice, Hoarding Words, Kansas City Voices, Kiosk, Periphery, Runaway Pony, Thorny Locust and To the Stars Through Difficulties. His ebooks, Flight 776 and Jack of Diamonds are available from most digital retailers. He lives in the Kansas City area with his wife.


52. To the Stars Through Difficulty: Chris McKinney

  1. Chris McKinney – April 2 (post May 1)

Above in the blues, violets, and incarnadines
That make the sky look black from below
Shine the stars, like motes of life in my fizzy drink.
Those specs that draw bears, lions, dragons, and other monstrosities
In the heavens give me hope –
Hope, the last remnant in Pandora’s Box.
I’ll reach for that hope.
I’ll grasp it.
I’ll cling to it, tightly.
I’ll die with it.

— Chris McKinney