PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So vague this feeling,

I can’t pinpoint the needles in my arms

with all the shouting of the molecules.

Tonight they revolt

and become another freak show

for folks to pay to see.

The noise is deafening,

impossible to take

so I retreat into my shell

and the masses gasp.

They paid to see their show

and they think it’s done.

Some are clapping.

Some demand their money back

- they call it a parlor trick.

They just weren’t close enough to see

that when I disappeared,

the fabric of the universe

showed itself in ripples.



And now I stand on the other side of the veil,

watching mouths move soundless.

I haven’t moved an inch,

I’ve moved a light year.

I’m staying just ahead,

just around the bend,

but then I notice something out of place.

A face among the crowd is still upon me.

He gazes gently, he doesn’t stare

and as my eyes meet his, a subtle grin appears.

He turns and walks away,

away from all the shouting.



I unfold, outside my box,

shrieks and gasps and cowering.

I revolt them with my color

tinted so unnaturally.

The sea of people parts before me,

my quarry still in reach.

I calmly stride into the sunlight

past the curtains hiding various curiosities:

my three-headed peers.

The unhappy members of the audience

forget about their refunds,

and follow me in awe, with trepidation,

hoping to see another trick.

I catch sight of the stranger

moments before a corner hides him from my sight,

I find an alley to the left,

and find him waiting

where I planned to intercept.



He extends his hand,

he doesn’t even shudder

at the texture of my skin,

as I cautiously accept,

and with a firm and friendly gesture of a shake,

the show is over.