Urban Poetry

Poetry in motion is prose encapsulated in warring thoughts, notions conceived in time oscillated flows, harmonically shifting mental tides to whence the Tasmanian wind never blows, where meditating and trancing souls,fairly prowls, like watching the future in an ancient show, I swear the present is abstract,just never raw, My intuition?All deja vu's ,makin' twelve other planets ma other home, sighted a UFO in the polar zone, thought he was ma other clone, till I realise I was on monologue driftin' with extraterrestrials longer gone', so fate played foul,the legend became of a kingdom lost, an heir to the golden native's Hercynian throne, trascended in rhyme,lost in dextrous wit' upon a thousand scrolls, so it became a legacy,much like Troll, that pathos,evaded the script and drama faded as the Curtain Falls, and ma mind lost touch with protocol, started developing a labyrinth of finer scopes that it derailed the train of my fibre thoughts... Now am here,waiting for diviner calls, wishing on asteroids to fall,making summer snow...