Sunday, December 11, 2011

Laser Beams and Flapping Wings

Laser beam penetrate the atmosphere
Yellow, orange and sometimes red
Barreling at speeds unknown
From the sky
To the ground
In between the illustration glows

From the mounds of fresh placed white
A beam is glistening from
Shiny, sharp and pointing pierce
Jamming, preventing
Sight
from communicating
The outside imagery
with the absurdity
Wrestling indoors

Valhalla
I pretend
I walk
Your gates
On the
Arms of
a Valkyrie
Pristine tress
draped to
Wings a
Flapping
Yet I
Just f#$d
the mood
with such
a term
I used
for such
majesty
as she
and her
decorated
form fly
high above
with me
tenderly
delivering
a shine
of light


Espied is the anglican black cat haunting about the fluffiness
It's eyes peer in all directions, wonder what It thinks, what it is plotting keen, can it be a misdirection has appeared here before me now (as I shift towards non-timed momentary lapsing of thought control)  The feline was gone, as simple as it came.

But where was I?

How long was I gone?

Had anything changed in the meantime?

Dreams, day or night, changing sight.

…and I stretch my arms across my chest, yawn some fierce reminder of what must be done, when the laser blinded me, forcing hands to eyes.

When i regained vision
I saw a
feather
on the
floor
flapping
like
a fish
out of
water.

3 comments:

  1. ha love that parting image...magic into reality...i also like the not wanting to but anyway saying something to screw it all up...smiles...been there...

    holy crap, like 47 posts of your just all of a sudden showed up in my reader at once...

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  2. I was blind and now I can see! Yippeeeee! I guess your bully post made blogger once again be a nice host. As back in the blogroll you are, God only knows for how long though..haha

    Really liked the title to this one. What instantly popped to mind when I read was that guy who always imagined haystacks were dragons and wells were the underworld and all that stuff. Don K Hote, (I know that isn't spelled right, forget how to spell his name.) Just seemed to fit rather well, at least to Pat, the fish was all that was wanted by the cat..haha

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  3. I like this surreal style of poetry, well done.

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