We flock with clocks riding on the brain
every cycle it’s the same refrain:
Click. Click. Pull. Screw.
God Heads have Infinite use.
I’d strike this match to watch it burn
if I were a goddess, or could learn, but
Your third eye sees my double vision, and
I can’t deny a Universe decision.
I'll breathe your soul into my veins;
watch Love wax, while hatred wanes.
Roll these seas and write these scrolls -
Magnets pulse between our poles, and
I must evaporate this current state, of
confusion and delusion, before it’s too late, and
I am in the black lake drowning in dreams,
asleep or awake I am sewn in the seams.
This time it started in the kitchen -
tiles reflecting naked inhibitions; but
Bennie’s bathroom is off the astral map, and
I get lost in inner and outer space – trapped.
We read life out loud, laughing
at the Divine Comedy, then
Astral Project to
Just down the street;
on the corner -
That’s where we’ll meet.
God Heads crack the ceiling, and
enter dimensions of infinite feeling,
sending down comets named after ladies.
We battle with Zeus. We battle with Hades.
Releasing our souls on peaces of paper,
hoping the message won’t turn to vapor
in the electric air where
music zaps our hearts
taps the soul to start
the rhythm on repeat
coursing through hands,
head and feet; We
Beat. Beat. Beat
circular reasons that
return with the seasons;
thoughts that re-think
when the Universe blinks
our whole mind resistance
out of existence.
Written by Dairedee Landwehr
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem