Dragon- what dragon?



It was tough to focus

In the cloudy weather-

Thick condensation

Infused with potent drugs.

The sun shone sallow

Upon thrashing fields

Brown and decayed,

Rustling like nail-scratch

Of a drawn out lecture

On teacher's chalkboard.

And the dragon soared

Beyond confused canvas

Of a rancid pearly hue.

When it breaks through

With deafening roar,

Unleashing from its mouth

Magic floods instead

Of fairytale firestorms

Everything is erased

Into a resurrection of grace

Until the end of days, again


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crypticbard's picture

Sometimes the tendrils of

Sometimes the tendrils of smoke undulate and float as oriental dragons slithering in the air. At ohter times the smoke is somewhat a signification that dragons are close by. But what dragons, indeed!

here is poetry that doesn't always conform

patriciajj's picture

You really had me tripping

You really had me tripping here:


"Unleashing from its mouth

Magic floods instead

Of fairytale firestorms"


Although my feet are firmly planted on the ground in my clean and sober life, I had a blast wrapping my head around your dazzling, free-flowing, innovative flight.


The word "again" juxtaposed will eternal references was a brilliant choice.


Nice tour of your psyche.