The Mechanical Bird
I wrote this while thinking about my home on the shore and a new life I could have outside of it. Seems a bit “jazz poetry reading” in retrospect.
Dare I open the door to the masses of Velcro tourists
Seeking only to scorn the venomous Black Widows
That hide and feast in my innards?
In darkness, loud
Death merely hides
Behind fluffy white clouds
And bright blue skies
Trapped beneath the sands of my home land
Waiting for disease to set in for the night
Conjuring dirty words
To scare the creators of this strange facade
From entering my hobbit hole
Cold, tranquil, home
I’ve reached the limits of my vine grabbing radius
Sinking deeper into a seemingly endless, five mile eternity
My wounds don’t heal
But rather seal with infinite complexity
Leaving no scab or scar behind
Deeper wounds beneath
Waiting to be resurrected by weakness and insecurity
Lurk unseen by my now naked eye
All that I’ve lost and feared
Drains into what’s left of this ill fated world
As angels carry me upon their bosom
To uncharted lives of kings and gods
Life now surely mapped out for me
As happy as fairy tales end
But where, oh where, will the Black Widows sleep?
This entry was posted on Saturday, September 25th, 2010 at 1:07 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.