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Array ( [sid] => 185954 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Time Giggled Upon Itself [time] => 2019-03-02 22:40:15 [hometext] => Roared out of a dream to scribble the essence of it [bodytext] => Time giggled upon itself in
DhryeemneosisDy.
Eyes met indifferently when just
yesterday
or one of the other lives,
one gurgled the other’s last drop of water,
tore the last shred of meat from that
tepid, palsied grasp.
“I can’t defend my ends- it is yours”.
Not even echoes of resentment,
grown so dead
life was ever
but a teasing dream,
buried without need
under shards of reality,
tons of it where
spatial displacement is an amusement.

The corpse of hope bound both with more finality
than weak strands, once stranded,
proudly yelling, “I am Rope!”
Children with the illusion of free will.

Pain,
so long in malingering,
burned past due bills for movement,
losing it’s memory
of what it was;
with nothing to evict it,
it set up camp under
a tuneless tune dredged
from xeroxed emotion;
relishing newly ripped bleeding feet,
grateful for the sensation.
Canvass now set against dew and dawn,
logs coaxed on a lie to life to die;
all the trimmings representing
the outline of fun
done
in a cadaver ghosted smile.

An abstract road,
shoulderless,
drew
two dots
eye to eye
to shoulder’s breathing kiss.
One eye brow in Promethean gust
twitched a flick
alighting on the other’s limb.
My arm, ah,
I see you grew stronger muscles on it
than I ever could.
Good.
Use it, and make it out alive.

This astonishing display of empathy
flecked in four eyes to meet
round the circle
on the plain
in the night
to the echoed shuffles
of other seekers
of arms and eyes.
They can and do
by right.

Dispassionate, four orbs orbless in a blink
arrived at the station,
known through a banging sign
on the windless sigh,
DhryeemneosisDy
Last Stop.

Massaging that final spark,
a symphony of Inevitable
broke the air,
piping tiredly upon the still
of non-linear interests.

Two backs
grew back into
dots neither cared
to sneak
a peek
of. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 111 [topic] => 74 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => surreal )

Time Giggled Upon Itself

Contributed by invierno on Saturday, 2nd March 2019 @ 10:40:15 PM in AEST
Topic: surreal

Time giggled upon itself in
DhryeemneosisDy.
Eyes met indifferently when just
yesterday
or one of the other lives,
one gurgled the other’s last drop of water,
tore the last shred of meat from that
tepid, palsied grasp.
“I can’t defend my ends- it is yours”.
Not even echoes of resentment,
grown so dead
life was ever
but a teasing dream,
buried without need
under shards of reality,
tons of it where
spatial displacement is an amusement.

The corpse of hope bound both with more finality
than weak strands, once stranded,
proudly yelling, “I am Rope!”
Children with the illusion of free will.

Pain,
so long in malingering,
burned past due bills for movement,
losing it’s memory
of what it was;
with nothing to evict it,
it set up camp under
a tuneless tune dredged
from xeroxed emotion;
relishing newly ripped bleeding feet,
grateful for the sensation.
Canvass now set against dew and dawn,
logs coaxed on a lie to life to die;
all the trimmings representing
the outline of fun
done
in a cadaver ghosted smile.

An abstract road,
shoulderless,
drew
two dots
eye to eye
to shoulder’s breathing kiss.
One eye brow in Promethean gust
twitched a flick
alighting on the other’s limb.
My arm, ah,
I see you grew stronger muscles on it
than I ever could.
Good.
Use it, and make it out alive.

This astonishing display of empathy
flecked in four eyes to meet
round the circle
on the plain
in the night
to the echoed shuffles
of other seekers
of arms and eyes.
They can and do
by right.

Dispassionate, four orbs orbless in a blink
arrived at the station,
known through a banging sign
on the windless sigh,
DhryeemneosisDy
Last Stop.

Massaging that final spark,
a symphony of Inevitable
broke the air,
piping tiredly upon the still
of non-linear interests.

Two backs
grew back into
dots neither cared
to sneak
a peek
of.

Copyright Â© invierno ... [ 2019-03-02 22:40:15]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Time Giggled Upon Itself (User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on Sunday, 3rd March 2019 @ 07:18:03 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Wow. What inspired this vaporization into visions that float and struggle for identity? Your dreams took us all on a merry pretense, but gems keep popping up as clear as reality in this cloudless charade. A TUNELESS TUNE DREGED FROM XEROXED EMOTION...ON THE PLAIN,IN THE NIGHT, TO THE ECHOED SHUFFLES OF OTHER SEEKERS...KNOWN THROUGH A BANGING SIGN ON THE WINDLESS SIGH...Man, I want what you ate for dinner!
This is a reveal of the expanse of the imagination.
Released from inhibitions, it speaks in images. How sad we cannot also hear the music; see the colors; immerse ourselves within it.
You must have awakened exhausted!
Go back to bed, and deliver us more dreamscapes. Time for a second read!

softerware

Re: Time Giggled Upon Itself (User Rating: 1 )
by ingeniusidiot on Tuesday, 5th March 2019 @ 01:24:57 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Impressive is an understatement my friend..
You must have awakened exhausted from the journey
this took you on. Ive read your piece 3 times already
and I have a feeling that Im going to have to read
atleast that many times more. What a roller coaster,
which Im sure is only a fraction of what you
experienced in your dream and while writing this gem.

Rich

Re: Time Giggled Upon Itself (User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on Wednesday, 6th March 2019 @ 03:46:12 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

This is why I keep a Fire Tablet on my bed.
By morning you wouldn/'/t have remembered a tenth of this and this all would be gone! Great writing!

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