by Darryl Price
Lake Bed
The creature with the broken mirror for a face
decided to throw a constant barrage
of rocks at my already silent windows
and when I climbed down to quietly
greet her and shoo her away,for she had the most beautiful wings on her back,she
tried instantly to blind me with the moon's
swiveled reflection, all of a sudden
bursting forth from her polished pores like little
pencil thin laser beams going off
in every direction at once, but it
just so happens my friends that the moon and
I are what you would call old chums. I knew
exactly where to look to keep from getting
instantly fried like a gooey egg splotched and greasy right
on the spot. She then took my left hand ever
so sweetly mind you and led me to
the beautiful dark body of the lake
where we gathered sand like miniature
Milky Ways and made grand wishes together,she
then tripped me onto a root and pushed me
in. She started to beat the ground all around
the shore with her sleeping laughter like
a single handful of branches on fire,
but I simply rose on up out of that
dripping and drying lake bed wearing the same
water's shirt like a long silk robe to hide me. And when
she tried pulling the snowy hood over
my head I just let her. That's when I shrank
into a mini ball like a blue river
rock and fell back to the soft arms of Mother earth and
crawled out below the hem she was yanking
apart with all her many serrated fingers and
walked right past her, back into the house of
mutated lights. She sat on a mossy seat
outside the invisible rain's umbrella,mocking the world at large
and howling at nothing, for about another
full hour.Finally I heard her
rusty car door of a heart open and
slam and the tiny engine of her selfish
greed starting to pull away the many
miles she had come to judge and sentence
me to a hopeless night's frosty fever.
Some time later I heard a real honest
to God robin singing loudly like it
hadn't a single care in all the whole
blessed world.And I thought to myself oh
yeah it might just be the day has come for
some good old hot fluffy pancakes. All you
can eat. Smothered in loads of butter and lots of maple syrup.
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"Boy,you ain't a poet/just a drunk with a pen."--Hayes Carll
May be but I can still put two and two together.
Getting through the nightmare.
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Mercy! I love. I wanna taste the yummy joke at the molten center and I'll never cry tears of boredom over my self again.
wow, darryl, an epic little poem that contains a bomb. missing the author's note..."the eye in the sky" will stay with me. and i do feel sorry for some people now.
The biggest act of courage is compassion, and to refuse hate. So true. You are not without mercy. Big *.
"You won't
get to taste the yummy joke
at the molten center of
the joke. You've tortured that bridge
well into ashes."
DP: exciting, unexpected, inimitable.
*
I like this, DP. Favorite lines:
"You're still free
to shoot up as many fear
inducing dreams as you like."
Thank you J. Mykell,Marcus, Kim,Bill and Sam.