Nonsense Answered
~This poem is a response to the questions asked in the book "The Book of Questions" (Poems I, II and III) by Pablo Neruda.~
The airplanes fly solo,
ashamed of their pasts; those who know
of their young propeller days.
The sunny bird,
with warmth is lured
those with bags of lemons from their ways.
No one can make the gun,
that harnesses the sun
to give to helicopters; they grow unwise.
In the lake shines a great bright light,
a reflection in the night,
and in that sight you will find her prize.
Ask Big Ben, who's always visible through rains
or the sun who dictates change,
you'll never find time through flesh.
The leaves, so green,
from trees so keen
on the birth of many strong souls; fresh.
In the mind,
you hid the blind,
without worry of bees.
We will use red then,
anger works just as well as delight in the kin
for bread to eat with teas.
The rose petals swell,
outside the budding shell,
having nothing to hide.
The wise old tree knows
it is better to hide than show
it's roots; knowledge makes them wide.
The silent screams,
the unknown rings,
reveal the automobile's frame.
The train so rusted,
the train so crusted,
I will never forget it's pain.
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