Mentally construed Intricacy computed
Liquid motivated Conceit activated
And he Was!
Programming every event Meticulously so
Conspicuously Dead!
Until the Word was Spoken and Mechanical Man
Awakened from his Slumber from his Submersion
into Nothingness to greet a new Dawn.
Sunrise Noon Sunset A Journey through Time
with Eternity shimmering on a Horizon
still covered in the Mists of Ancient Equity
Recycling.
The Sun will rise in the East touching with warm Fingers
the lingering fragments of the Mist of the Night. .
A New World Awakens in the West
the creatures of the Night Mother silently debate:
Shall we linger on shall we be Silent Sheltered in the folds
of our Darkness.Await another Night.
The Sun creeps steadily along it’s Path of Light
Sending a message of Bliss with Caressing Fingers
dipped in Dew Inviting all to Play.
The camel-masters linger on the edge of the Oases
Where Palm Shadows remain guarding The Clear Blue waters
a Breeze softly murmuring a Song so ancient
The Siren’s Song a melody alluring them to Stay
Daylight moves lazily along the boulevard
Beauty Dazzling Bowls of colour
folding in Shadows Urchins at their play
those wistfully daring the math Master’s efforts
to equal their abstract play by multiplying the efforts
of the Baker’s wife to keep their fingers adding cookies at bay.
Noon appears from Above Silently with contentment watching
over Creation. Warm and bright unrelenting on its Way.
Creations Slumbers once again!
In the West the Sunset is eagerly impatiently waiting
to adorn with its multicolor Cloak the labors of the Day.
Scarlet and Blues Orange and Grays announcing the coming of the Night Mother
whose Children will touch all with Moonbeams and Silence and Silvery Wisps
Of Mists so Ancient so Antique a Game in hide and seek.
Once again Life has completed a Full Circle.
Witches Brooms and gargoyle urchins come out to Play.
Man wills Transverse Time
Conquer the Elements of Nature
Create Abundance
But!
He will never escape his Heritage!
Mechanical Man. Timeless Machine.
He Became a Soul!
this was a pleasure to read, the rhythmic lulls and spikes pulled off superbly. the subjects you ponder over: of man, this technological age we inhabit, and the beauties of nature were illustrated with dashing effect.
there were a few typos here, but i glanced over some of your other works and decided to not even point them out because...
i've been here for a while. and dude, you're talented. i read this one aloud twice over, and it has the distinct feel of a performance piece. almost as though this were meant to be read at some poetry slam venue.
the first few stanzas drew me in with the fractaled imagery that just drew me in with no time to respond, and kept on giving throughout the entire piece.
i interpreted this one as follows.
no matter how a man decides to keep his mind or creative spirit entertained, he shall succumb his finally destiny, which lies in death.
for as a creator,, in order for us to exist in this plane, we were created. fathers of sons and yet sons of fathers. reality is such an abstract metaphor for completion that we sometimes become lost in the very bowels of that which completes us. in my case that would be poetry.
now i interpreted liquid motivated conceit as one of two things either
alcohol
or
tears induced by something so thats what i meant by you drug me along the entire read.
excellent write, and i grazed some others. i want to stalk you but i fear i have o room, well perhaps i can make some. i faved this piece for ya. keep writing, and thanks for the read
Aerosol.