They get tangled when crocheting.
Much like hair, they weave dreams.
It changes shape, changes form,
when touched with barehand,
it crumbles, triggers a storm.
They say, 2.537 million light-years away,
is a galaxy like our own.
The tiny fiber, there too sway,
weaves supple fabric, alas it is
made of stone.
When I look up at the sky,
I swear I see. A slender yet,
long thread flying up high,
inter-galaxies, it is free.
They say, 2.537 million light-years away,
is a world, neither young nor old.
From nebulae to supernovas vast,
these cotton strands, secrets hold.
Connecting all from this world
to the other, the fortune changes.
Enlightenment is unfurled.
Every fibre lives, every fibre
dies. Every stitch questions
Who am I?
They say, 2.537 million light-years away,
there is a land so divine.
Where gods walk the earth, humans
collude with the stars
and disrupt the time.
Prompt: Cotton Strands
Categories:
barehand, analogy, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form: Free verse
They call me ‘Cap’, (Captain) America!
But are my Values REALLY out of date?
Prefer Red Meat to esoterica…
At end of every meal, I clean my plate…
I would have – given time – tried to explain
To Tony Stark, the depth of what I knew,
But he responded, giving pain for pain,
Barehand, I beat the Ir’n Man black-and-blue!
It broke me! Had to trade a friend for friend!
I would have – given time – tried to unfold
A hist’ry of deception, tried to mend...
But, friendships SHATTER! left out in the cold!
Could I have showed that LIES had kept me sane?
NO! – giv’n a chance – I'd crash another plane!
Date Updated: Jan. 10, 2018
Withdrawn 2/12/2019 from: Movie Magic Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory R. Barden
Movie and Character: Captain America: CIVIL WAR; Captain America
Categories:
barehand, america, conflict, friendship, hero,
Form: Sonnet