PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Vacuous multifarious drains dripping division

telling tomorrow to wait

postpone the inevitable repercussions

of drifting alone in isolated space sedated

and severely frustrated

at changes that keep making everything exactly the same

placing the blame for the death of a star

on the comet

shooting past

escaping the blast

of the supernova

as stardust denizens ride the wave

like chaotic surfers with blond hair and dark tans

hanging infinity off the edge as energy tendrils spread

a glowing shell around dark matter

looking glass shatter

negative existence manifestation

the opposite of every opposite is a proverb

make the decision now

will you listen to the hidden agenda contradictions

pulling out morsels of truth

or will you ignore the walls of your virtual reality chamber

as you fall from the sky

to join new heights of vision

make the incision to expose your mind’s eye

or leave the scalpel on the table

for molecules to trip over

as they run blindly

panicked

in an attempt to escape the destruction

of another mental collision shutdown micronuclear reaction

as the last free thought

dies

and there is no requiem

only a swan song

of a high pitch ringing in your ears

on a calm quiet uneventful day

when you thought nothing significant had happened

that was your subconscious

resounding the eulogy

of the tragically short life of a doomed synapse

the connective tissue is being strained

as the two sides of your brain

compete against each other in a gladiator match of wits

logic versus artistry

in the most beautiful stalemate

until you step in

and inform them that they have to get along

like the driver of a car yelling at full grown kids in the backseat

fighting over limited space

folding their arms, they gravitate toward the windows

and there is peace in the temporary tranquility

of the compromise where no one wins

and it’s the driver who asks first

if they have all reached their destination

and the answer is deafening

the screech of the tires on the pavement as the driver slams on the brakes

joins that of the demons and phantasms

circling like overeager vultures with a banshee battlecry

please note the exists on either side at the front and the back

of this plane of dimension

this is the place

of the last stand

when the last man will take his seat belt cutter

emergency utility knife

and stab it into the heart of reason

the greatest threat to bliss

killing the last chance for himself to be saved

all for the ideal that he should get what he wants

and so should everyone else

but with this exhibition of freedom

the black thunder clouds disperse

and the new man steps out of the fog

pouring out of the comet crash landing gear

in the glowing fissure of his inter-visionary vessel

ready to face the adversity

of being the only beholder of wisdom

in a house built by fools

he sees every flaw being exploited

by the very builders who have no idea

they are about to bring down their own construction

it became rubble in an instant

and the new man walks on

searching out the surviving fools

with just enough capacity to figure out

they had it all wrong

the complex song they were singing without melody

was really a stale rhythm of the simplest form of repetition

that only made enough noise to be heard

but there was really nothing the words had to say

so when the new man approaches

the wise fool remembers his purpose

and for the first time

stops