Holy temptation,
to try and stop the turmoil.
Terraform our hearts.
Taking a stroll, silently tip-toe
Talking to strangers, tangential existence
Strangled for talk, struggled to speak
Straight for the taking, tangible change
Take a short cut, time stands still
Transformed the scenery, terraformed set
Shouts from the tomb, post-existential speech
Scanning the transcript, searching for truth
Imagine that we are out boating on
A lovely Sunday afternoon that floats
Our imaginations like wind swept clouds,
Rippling from horizon to horizon.
You are pillowed in the bow of our canoe,
A thin foam pad lifts you off wood ribbed bottom.
No smooth fiberglass for us, a bright
Umbrella protects you from the sun,
And a wine-rich picnic basket awaits us
As underwater green leaves dampen our motion
In the shallow but glass-smooth mountain lake,
That bends high breaking waves, ridges of buoyant rock
Like a telescope lens, magnifying, doubling our joy.
Craters marring our surface are more visible too,
So close are we now that your flaws seem
Almost touchable in the fragrant breeze
As breathing its emotionally charged air
We clumsily explore the terraformed landscape,
Together, alone, here, Adam and Eve on Mars.
Brian Johnston
October 1, 2015
Stalling asleep
dragged from my bed
a currency exchange of wet sheet rhetoric
begins flowing through my head
this isn't
really
happening
chubby red devils
polygonal angels
Gods and Goddesses
Playwrights and charlatans
What an event
taking place
here
this can't
really
be
happening
Fog rich terraformed formations
ferment within my grasp
yet still slip through my palms
Told you
this
isn't
occurring
Sideway hill slide
I play it safe on clouds
watch the feet make their way to the mountain
Play it safe from the clouds to the water below
play it safe
Eyeball flotation
new hobby
realization
a thing of the past
This all happens before our very eyelids
I play it safe from the pillow
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