Shimmers Of Translucent Gold (Rev.) 6.30.2008 Poem by Margaret Alice

An alien with a remote control is watching
the pictures flashing on the electromagnetic
screen of my mind as my camera eyes scan
the world’s hologram which my laser-brain
construct into images

It must hate the world in which I live;
discovering compiling lists of publishers
was my job for today, the alien gave me an
electrical shock which changed my level of
consciousness from contumacious happiness

to

flutes vibrating round water drops in
multifarious blue, interspersed with flashes
of bell-like sweetness in silver, weaving
between violin strings recreating everything
in shimmers of translucent gold, accompanied
by pianos playing in minor aquamarine

to

angry frustration where thin alarm bells
shrill in my ears incessantly and lines
in my head are squashed into a mess of
thin wire mesh and sounds become a club
smashing thoughts to mind-numbing pulp…