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...
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