PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

At 1am I fell in love with a machine
An Ocean Blue mouth - like mechanical palm
who quantified modestly great lumps of bolts
and nuts - to a degree that held my attention

How could I not love that fantastic beetle?
As delicate and sensitive as a newly born flower
Who says one touch of mine is worth a thousand screws
and which sits there all night, in the dark; alone

The sad, lonely fridge or the frivilous pylon,
The despondant condom machine in the bog,
The lunatic electric guitar in the cupboard
sing the songs you remember like retro cartoons

Ah! A mad vision building now of a future -
I have harlequin visions of chimney stack skylines
At the centre a smoky moon in decline
mice live in Coke - Cans near funky - rooted trees

And we all climbed like spiders to the top floors of tenaments
to float there like ships above great stinking seas
of great kingdoms of Takeaways and television skeletons
at the other end of eternity's effluent stream

You could not imagine the fear in the daytime
Lion - like rats pad the skin of the water
Great Vulturic flies break windows
filling rooms with waste and frightening chainsaws

Where we binbag the skylights and sit in the dark
and try and catch sleep clutching rust iron poles
where we hallucinate the hot flavours of the ether
under fear and deleriums trembling fevers

We rise in the night time in the silence of sleep
mount crippled ladders to the roof of the sky
stare, ask questions of the stars and name them
and daydream of conquering the oceans of the world

Yet those that have left us have never returned
they currently hang in our minds like small ghosts
becoming the terror of esoteric horizon
which no one can know but some die to meet

and in some age he'll come back cargoed with knowledge
a God - like enslavement beginning in his eyes
and then the horizons will bow done to them
or they'll sell everything for one hit of truth.