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Colours In a Cloud Speak


"Colours in a Cloud Speak" 

The colours 
of a world 
speak 

no one 
has time 
to listen

The spectrums 
speak like
music, lucid

like clouds
that pulse ultraviolet
in front of you 

through wide open
windows, unavoidable,
some strange dream 

your eyes see,
but do not 
speak

the unbelieved
reels in the 
unbelievable

we live 
in these odd times
we observe meanings subliminal

that no one else
other than we
in our own moment

believe, 
could see
on the peripheral 

of even
like odd 
evening clouds

in the small hours
that pulse curious
purple, then ultraviolet, 

points of calculus 
invading our 
small space, try reasoning

watching us
as we move in
some strange elusive dream 

a beacon 
calling us 
home, 

some strange home 
calls us crazy, we are 
cats cradles cartwheeling 

unreachable 
we think, it exists 
somewhere else, 

other than this, 

in the 
in between
unseen

we exist
we dream
we try to live

what we see, 
is not real,
it’s spun 

like fairy floss 
in the machinations
of the others' schemes

sugar tastes sweet
addictive, we are lost
in the after taste

wanting more
of what we 
know is their drug

what we are taught
from birth to see,
is not the real of reality

our minds are locked
from time of rebirth, 
re-entry 

into 
well-rehearsed territory
birth pains burning 

the inevitability, 
truth hits us 
the gravity glitching

karma circles
Ferris wheels
that stop occasionally

to let us
get on 
get off 

it could be 
realer 
than real

the mysterious colour 
hidden in clouds
we touch 

in our dreams
we are like 
comets falling

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)













cat's cradle
noun
a child's game in which a loop of string is put around and between the fingers and complex patterns are formed.


Harry Chapin - Cats in the Cradle

Copyright © Lady Labyrinth

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Book: Shattered Sighs