Dead or dreaming,
Angels screaming,
Headlights beaming,
I see the light.
Maybe I discorporate,
Maybe I hide inside,
Maybe I haunt my inner child,
I see the fight.
Another hidden meaning,
Another nightmare bleeding,
Another empty season,
I see no reason.
All the strife and seething,
All the guarded feelings,
I think I have a feeling,
I see the light?
'Twas like imagery or perhaps deja'vu
air quotations or a hallucination,
naught tangible to the naked eye
but an echoing of whirlwinds,
mere beginning of an expansion
tucked aside noncommittal whispers
reverberating discorporate shadows
on dividers of processing graphics,
rough drafts' emphatic intimation
of intrusively summoned reckonings
referencing old featured impressions,
mid-escape concentrated faculties'
unfocused low-density frequencies,
betwixt susceptibility’s magnifiers
orbiting bout night-crawlers' psyche,
whilst darkly territorial distractions
evolve beyond unforeseen influences,
farthermost assertion's revisionary
assemblages divulging conceals,
structured within framework
unrelentingly penetrative,
drawn-out, long agone
an unreceptive peccadillo
"Brightly, brightly, and with Beauty",
quoted Mr. Valentine.
In fullness Grok; to cherish, flock-
this Ghost of Yours and Mine.
I've decided to discorporate
at this friendly hour.
Water Brothers, don't hesitate-
I am yours to devour!
*Homage to "Stranger in a Strange Land". If you've never read the book, this poem will
be quite difficult to understand, I'm afraid.
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