Mounted to a wall
No matter what the shape.
It leers back through us,
With no place to escape.
Yet the reality it returns is flawed,
Some may even say cursed.
Since the images come back
Us, backwards or inversed.
Well experts might use physics to
Explain this dance of materials and light.
While the metaphysical soul might compare
And ask, which one is more right?
Such as, is the real beauty shown,
Or just wasted vanity?
Or might this illusion hide the
Sane, as well as insanity?
Was I projected when you inversed my motion?
Like gravity you pulled me down to earth
I became relative to your perspective
Prevented denial of my proportional thoughts
Internally bleeding directly from the source
Proportion of blood to water I was saturated
Procrastination decreased my functionality
Proportional to thee
Thy remained stationery like Newton the first
I repelled electrostatic forces
living in denial like Inertia
As generators,the rotation is alternating
The relationship reversed like AC current
The direct proportionality is somehow altered
Anti nor cyclonic the Coriolis forces deflects
Proportionally direct will reach the destination
For bipedalism sapiens composition
Mass reduces motion
in the dead of (winter) night
in the dead of winter (night)
a mime was executed for stealing pancakes
the gunpowder tango sounded
over the burnt black bones of Bastille
wretchedness comes in manifold reverie
in distempered visions of epochal disasters
mime's widow's now loitering enshrouded
dismal and dismantled into the strawberry
storm of desolate lament on a horizon
monomaniacal embers of deceased mementos
shuddered after the rain of infirmity
day dawned once again with frolicsome frogmarch
in shrubberies echoing the ghastly romance
friendly fiends and fiercer fury of mountain tops
are inversed by limb contorting boredom
in the dead of (winter) night
in the dead of winter (night)
Blinded conviction,
Inceptions with deceptions,
Inversed repentance.
I walked with thoughts in reverse;
Bairn of old suffered feat;
Dancing consciously as lunatics;
Made my pace run from me;
Then everything looked evil...
I smiled with thoughts in reverse;
Moments to cherish in bitterness;
With so much love for the pen;
The past taught about me;
Then everything looked evil...
I dreamed with thoughts in reverse;
Super human from a dead planet;
Heavy as crane, wings of an
airplane;
Trudging on a seeming ground;
Then everything looked evil...
I awoke with thoughts in reverse;
Super human from a dead planet?
Moments to cherish in bitterness?
Bairn of old suffered feat?
Truly, everything looked evil!
Poetry
more than verse
It seems to me
a shape
reversed, on white
pulp, inversed
tight
on loose
form
use
- torn
from subject, to
balance
In
a Visual truth
youth
connect
the lines
erect
refine
sooth poetry
a powerless rage
projected on a
empty page