Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
||||
Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 22:12:12 AEST | ||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
Array
(
[sid] => 167949
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cube among the trilobites
[time] => 2011-10-19 23:24:53
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Cube among the trilobites One day while standing in a checkout line There suddenly appeared behind me an old friend of mine I was glad to see my dear old friend And eagerly asked him how he had been He smiled and said I’ve changed you know And this change came only a few days ago What I’m going to tell you, you might find absurd Then he moved closer to me so as not to be heard It began, a few days ago while out walking alone When in the bend of my path I tripped on a stone When I knelt down to remove the stone from my path I noticed that I must have broken it in half And there between the two halves where it had broken into Lay the strangest thing I’d ever seen a little silver metal cube As the line grew shorter his story grew longer And with each passing moment my fascination grew stronger On losing my attention there was very little danger For the story he was telling kept getting stranger and stranger He then said I glanced around making sure I was alone When I took off my jacket and wrapped up the stone No longer walking but running I cut across a pasture Doing this in hopes of getting home faster The neighborhood dogs began stirring up a racket As I dashed through my yard clutching the stone in my jacket A woman’s voice interrupted saying, sir I can take you in this lane I smiled and said its ok my dear, but thank you all the same Slightly threw off by this mild interruption He continued his story without introduction I entered the house and on the table under the kitchen light With spoon in hand I pried the little cube from among the trilobites I stared in fascination through my magnifying glass At this odd little cube from the far distant past It was about an inch across an about an inch high With some strange unknown markings on all six of its sides As I rolled it in my palm to get a better view The weird little cube began to split into From out of its center upwards shot a brilliant beam Etching marks on the ceiling the likes of which I’ve never seen As quickly as it opened it closed itself again I wanted to copy the marks so I rushed to get a pen No sooner had I returned and sat back in my chair When the marks on the ceiling began to disappear My pen flew across the page but not fast enough it seemed Copying them was difficult I could only copy thirty three My attention returned to the cube trying to find a seam Trying to get the dam thing to reemit the beam All through the night I studied that strange little cube Twisting it and turning it to see what it would do I found myself in a strange world or was it just a dream And was almost driven mad by all the things I’d seen They were a billion years ahead of us a billion years ago Don’t ask me how I know I just know that I know I was abruptly awakened from my little pool of drool For floating before me above the table the cube again had split into So absorbed in his story of this thing he had found When an annoyed voice behind me said, come on move it down Waving a hand to say I’m sorry at the face with a frown I quickly grabbed my cart and began to move it down The cube began to vibrate as it floated in the air And slowly melted into nothing as I was sitting there Had this thing existed had I even brought it home Then to my surprise I noticed the stone was also gone He handed me the paper that he had made the marks upon And then he melted into nothing just like the cube and stone A husky voice behind me said come on move it man It’s time you stop talking to your imaginary friend I left my cart sitting as I stumbled to the door Hurrying across the parking lot fleeing from the store Sitting in my car my face buried in my hands Asking myself was I going mad or had I really spoken with my friend Then I remembered the paper that he had gave to me And there on the paper were the strange marks Exactly thirty three Poem by bobbyclay56 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 83 [topic] => 40 [informant] => bobbyclay56 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
|