A literary Journey

Today is a day I’d like to dedicate to writers everywhere.

There are so many with the grandest stories to tell

But alas, there is not room enough,

To include the lot, so some will indeed be listed naught

I’m starting now, here this morn,

And when I end twenty-one countries I’ll have gone.

No one can see the Invisible Man

A marble faun is standing still

While a purloined letter is so weaved

A turn of the screw makes us wait

For the sound and the fury to displace

The Blind Assassin was not wanted on this voyage

As there would be many stone angels

Each tending to their own English patient

Eddas, Poetic and Prose

Tattoos of Dragons play with fire

And that brings about

The end of maple hills

An Idiot I must be, this may take

Two winters and three summers more

Before the cherry orchard understands

The two steps from heaven intrinsic to man

Gods and mortals merge

In battle and in play

An Odyssey shall certainly come to be

Labyrinths,

Steeped in 20 love songs-

And a song of despair,

The poet’s in NY, finding Love-

In the time of Cholera

As Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter

Plots a course to land

Invisible cities

Surrounding coliseums

Where Deities and gladiators fight for rights

There’s an unbearable lightness of being

Soon will come the setting sun

As will the soldiers play in fields

Between the rice and the red sorghum

A late divorce in a holy land

Brings tears to those who can’t understand

Les miserables under guillotine

Cry, the beloved weeps from a distant land

Riders of the chariot

Perhaps fly too high this day

Sparking blasts to the son

Stephen Daedalus walks cobbled roads

Searching for answers he’s yet to questions plan

Treasures will not be found

When scientist becomes lab rat

Jumps the tops atop the eaves of homes

 The Parisian nights blister an afterglow

When the answer was a proud as day

A beast leaves traces behind each case

So detectives can detect in him

Don’t look into the mirror

Don’t go into the closet

Worlds too great for mortal man

Even those with portraits changed

Back to the fruit of the land

As beloved notes play again