Boa's Ark - Part 3

 Continued from Part 2 

5. MIDNIGHT DREAMS 
At night the soldiers sometimes dream
of many things which make them scream,
like
                      floating down a gelid stream
             with burning flesh and cold ice cream
             upon their lips, which makes it seem
             as though their salt they can’t redeem
             when looking back at bold extremes
             of valiant warriors’ victory schemes.

Or ofter yet,
                      they sometimes meet
             a broken skull upon the street
             with gaping eyes, its mouth replete
             with swollen tongue that can’t repeat
             mere words of joy when lovers greet,
             or yell aloud or indiscreet’,

             or talk about the grand deceit
             of Those Who live on Easy Street,
             Who plot, destroy and overeat,
             while others bide beneath a sheet
             on bed of steely cold concrete,

             with final gift a flag or wreath
             that soon will wither like their teeth
             when once they’re settled underneath
             a mound of muck on mouldy heath,
             to lurk in Limbo Land beneath.

And ever more before they wake,
appear quaint dreams not quite opaque,   
like
                      upside down upon a lake
             keeps popping up a pregnant Drake
             who says “there must be some mistake,
             I only have a bellyache”,
             while high above’s a flying Snake,
             (a sight to make a killer quake).

             She cries aloud “for mercy’s sake
             your foresight’s blind, your wisdom’s fake
             the fragile bodies that you break,
             impale or burn upon a stake,
             then stack in layers like a cake,
             reflect a lust that death can’t slake”.

             And turquoise Turtles on the make
             (though taking time to overtake,
             each slurping down a chocolate shake)
             rev up to plead “let us explain,
             we think you men are all insane
            with morals thin as cellophane;

             for, peering through god’s window pane,
             we see quite clearly those you’ve slain,
             enough to fill the Dim Domain
             with blood and guts and tears and pain,
             Chimeras of a frenzied brain.”

             A worn and weary weather vane
             announces floods of claret rain
             that forty days and nights sustain,
             submerging mountains, raising Cain,
             while flushing mankind’s acid reign
             down nature’s evolution drain.

             The Serpent hails a hydroplane
             “because”, she hissed, “we can’t remain;
             behind the hill, the atom’s spark
             has vaporized the palace park,
             reduced to dust the Meadowlark
             and nullified the Rainbow’s arc”.

             And while the others hush and hark,
             a feline Toad begins to bark
             “This plane is certainly Boa’s Ark.

             Let’s flee the Human hierarch,
             forsake all Men to sate the Shark
             which swim within the Waters Dark,
             and purge all traces of the Mark
             in Eden when we disembark.”

             The beasts, in lines, by twos embark.

The dreamers wake, they’re staring, stark,
behind their eyes, a watermark.

 End 
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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Collins Avatar
September 23, 2012 at 7:55 AM
Terry. I came to your page today to thank you for your comment on Ocular Floaters, not knowing your trilogy, a Terry O'Leary masterpiece, awaited me. The incredible work you put into this belies the ease in which I read it, heart pounding with each line of horror and perfect meter and rhyme. Bob Dylan should read this and weep. I'd love to comment on each gem of language, but there are just too too many worthy of mention. Publish! Publish! Publish! You are the man!!!!! love, Kathy
Cavanaugh Avatar
September 20, 2012 at 8:47 PM
So many wonderful lines. Reiteration as well as correction for my fat fingered typing earlier. Excellent work.
Onclaud Avatar
September 20, 2012 at 3:28 AM
this is a breathing nightmare so well captured by your unique storyline and edgy appeal... hats off, terry!..:) huggs
Cavanaugh Avatar
September 19, 2012 at 11:59 AM
Another masterpiece. I love the meter, the rhyme, and the word play and message in this magnificent poem. There are some many beautiful lines. For brevity one word play I love is "mankind's acid reign" Excellent. You are a master poet.
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