Hello, Hello, We'Re At a Place Called, Vertigo

Trying to make heads out of tails; whatever that means ?
Carved from my dear mother's womb; a summer storm's child..
July thirteenth nineteen fifty-nine; nay a wimper his fuzzy little flock
Olive complextion reared upon goats milk; deceased at one only to be resurrected
While his parents both yet children themselves, wept thus screamed; 'Baby, breathe
Stay with me running through fields of daisies ? Drowning amid emerald waters slash
Nexus' silver blade hanging out stepping back took a journey at age ten ? Frozen 
Fragments altared states round about and, back again; silhouetted glass strains 
Past their portal sill an image; grasping steel bars across the way, her own asylum...
Shal these visions remain refrain everything means, something ? Whirlwinds in white
Apparitions cloaked of red, numbered doors spiral forest pale his horse; body bags
Tithed, her eulogies offerings; this cup always from a crowned white rocking chair ? Making
Heads from tales bartered dreams time baby, breathe; tether ties umbilical seeds; wax windows.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Ligon Avatar
December 7, 2013 at 7:59 PM
Complex swirl of events. I enjoyed this. Is this based on a true story? Thanks for your kind comments on my song/poem. I enjoyed your background music. Made me smile.
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