The string quartet
plays ten thousand bits
through rusty, ambitious speakers
while the evening
turns into
a velvet night
like the madman's canvas:
with a yellow moon
and fuzzy, mad, mad flora.
Am I lost in my dreams
of a life in heaven,
seated by stars and by the sun,
the guest of comets
and falling meteors?
A name to be remembered?
Am I trapped in an illusion,
where wishes indeed are horses,
battle steeds of finest breed
that charge through blood
in glory, bloody glory,
against some phantom fiend?
The movement falls to
an adagio,
and I waft in the fumes
of my passing dreams,
clutching at thin wisps
that haunt in ghostly fashion.
Am I mad? I ask,
and they, in turn, reply:
you are asleep, and dreaming.
Comments
hello
this moves along fluidly and with great energy
I like just about everything; language, images, how you plotted the theme.
one suggestion, if I might....possibly find, and use some other words to replace the first two times you use the word "dream" for greater affect when used at the end.
for example: am I lost in my dreams.....to.......am I lost in a" fantasy", or "mirage"
I waft in the fumes of my passing "fugue"
I like the strength of your writing...powerful,
Thanks
for that suggestion. I totally agree with you!
I will ammend this poem in time. Thank you!
Hello
I have to agree with Al on this one as well its so beautifully done the language and the images are wonderful this is one of the best poems I have read for a while
I have nothing to offer but my praise
kind regards Jayne-Chloe
I'm really glad you liked it!
I'm really glad you liked it! Thanks :D