Caricamento in corso...

I Punched A Black Hole Into Reality

I punched a black hole into reality today:
King and Queen disappeared into night
and I, lonely rambler, their lavish kingdom,
was never seen again
Realm of swirling tornadoes,
all mother of pearl against a great gray sky
No wind, no sound, no pressure,
no atmosphere, no air, no sense of unease,
Pure emotion only,
naked like a human body,
naked like a broken woman,
naked like blood dripping from a white branch
The words, all versions and more, so quick:
French, Spanish, Croatian, Hindu, Greek, Icelandic,
English, Russian, Vietnamese, and hardy Nordic,
swirling,
encompassing,
teasing me, this lonely jester, never to see Earth again,
moving at speeds faster than light,
crystals shattered upon ruby red diamond floors,
and “poet”, trying to catch every piece
before the tinkling of the shattering ends
They would swirl, shake, a frantic seizure,
some life-ending disaster, all the graves dug, family in the pasture
Then...
one would slow,
for a moment, making sense in such anarchy,
Then again...
and again...
I had punched a black hole into my mind,
a black hole into my deepest reaches,
where words, cursed and damned, struggled
to make themselves understood
Words would slow, make thoughts, while the others...
Others danced, swirled like idiot birds lost in Neptune’s frozen winds!
Aloha,
Bienvenido,
Bienvenue étranger,
Ceci est l’enfer et le ciel,
Fuglar og bflugur,
Lyklar og tré,
Koma mér heim elskan,
Eg vil kæla líkama inn me typpi mitt
Sleeping on blades of grass with lover,
only to be forgotten as soon as
the Universe flashing passes, with morning, forever.
All would present themselves,
as the stars in night,
and make sense perfectly,
yet, none at all
to make perfect poetry
The black hole entertains all possibilities,
The Kingdom of Artistry
My fist is the God who created the all-encompassing realm,
I am no poet,
I am a spectator:
is all an Artist is.
To call myself a poet is to lie
in the face of works I create
a watcher, spectator, then one is one step closer
Let my work
consume, devour me, so that creation
demonstrates who I am!
The tornado of never-ending,
never-slowing words are my own Kingdom of Random!
The princess of Freedom love,
my own and mine alone
I am no poet
blind like Oedipus, who had it lucky,
I’d pluck my eyes to be free
I punched a black hole into reality today,
broke the boundaries most scientists and studies
would say impossible
I punched a black hole into reality today,
cast from Earth: the jester, the rambler,
from the day into night, outside of all of this!
And although I’d rather stay, I do believe I must go,
Dear God, time must continue to flow...

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