Poetry

Sunday, 13 February 2022

Eclectic electric

 They are in the middle of a traffic jam of silence

Bowled over in a sound of consciousness

 

The parachute tester just dropped in to say hi

Can you fall from the sky

Without one?

No’

Can you?

Superman, ho, ho!

 

Electricity eclectic

In the dark of the rainbow

Electric rainbow of the soul

 

The Manta rays and electric eels glow

Why can’t we

Light a candle for my soul

And yours

 

The Centaurs are charging

Their gas bills

Eating grass sandwiches

And drinking beer

On the forgotten plateau

In the tearful meadow

Of tea

 

Come make me a shooting range

So I may target my fears

And tear out the pages of the paper back

Of apologies

No apologies, please

This darkness

Is good for my soul

I can hear

Nothing

But the stars

And the wheat ears

Whispering in the field’s breeze

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