Something Different Poem by Felix Bongjoh

Something Different



Something Different
(i)

The dancing sun beams
and fire glows
of waved rays settle

with the feathery wings
of a gold butterfly.

Then the sun dims, as if
a soft wind is blowing it
with a child's jerky breath

that won't cut off
a wick's rising flame
from daylight's
wallowing lantern.

On the stretching roof's
aluminum sheets,
a ray thins out

into silvery slates,
but jumps back
with wings spreading

into acrylic fingers
sprayed by a silver palm.

How patchy earth
burns with the lipstick
coals of reddish
melting and swelling pebbles

bouncing off
galloping rays from a pink
window glass
splash sitting on them.

(ii)

As it dims on flowers,
the sun carves out
and sprays boulder
and fire opals

on petals exploding
with lake and sea

ripples spinning
surface sheets and sheathes
on a heavily dressed bed,

its hue dusk's baked sky
after swinging and spiraling
lances of sun rays have
trimmed off grayish patches
from a chrome of sky.

(iii)

I continue to walk down
the garden track
to a small guy in a well-tailored
blue coat exposing
a snow and beige shirt.

The blue jay's attire throws
back sapphire at me,
as he tilts he tilts
his magnifying glass eyes
in his orbit of gems,

and I capture a necklace
grandma stroke on her chest
all day like the soft finger
of a beaming new-born.

The bird pierces me with a peek
the size of a beach,
as an aquamarine gem bounces off
his wink capturing gem silicas.

(iv)

Then my walk takes me
to something different,
as the sky switches
to a filter of light rays settling

on dimmer petals
dropping off in the wind
like pieces from an old canyon wall.

Flowers spin a different world,
dimming into scaly
wisteria screens tossing off
wrinkled bronze butterflies
of dry shrunk petals.

My eyes fall on a brown
horny crusty lump
with three ball-like heads
sticking out blobs of watery clay,

a brown spidery cloud
thickening into a tentacled insect
still creeping on my iced skin

and sinking into my chilled spine
half an hour after I've finished
my mid-morning amble.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: beauty,nature,strange
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Felix Bongjoh

Felix Bongjoh

Shisong-Bui, Cameroon
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