Beached
Beached at the hotel
where T.V. creatures pay homage
to the energy trees, and
the flowering sun remains cased
in a glass orb,
surrounded by a clouded ball
of glistening human vision.
The viewers stare amazed
at nature’s fire, but they are
blinded by their own darkness.
In the shallow hall where people queue
waiting to be engulfed
by the fiercely burning hue.
I stand back, taking the world
within my hand; I describe the picture
of ironic living.
Left by the wayside
by a flash lightning stream,
I see the river thunder towards
oblivion.
Where shallow graves
smile with open arms
in the infinite ocean of epitaphs.
But, observing this view
I’m pulled in by the
icy clasp of conformity;
into the maelstrom of living
where people remain in line,
still
&
confined.
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