PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Inside. The traffic lights blink
red, yellow, green. Stop, wait, go.
Moody hemisphere that is filled
with a morphological being that
practices plastic bouncing balls.
Tip of the iceberg is melted, exposing
the horrid skin cells that are
dangling with their insistence.
Psychedelic fuzzies parading like
feral cats in a badly lit circus. Falling
stones caress the head as they plop
like thinly disguised avatars. The
phone is ringing. The stove starts
to cook. Many things happening
and none of them industrious.

It is time again. Pop another pill.

Outside. The fabricated nothing is
playing at being important, while
the signs on the street pop on and off.
Catching playful atmosphere that
causes pretense and worse. The 
eggshells are scattered on the
floor, and so, carefully the feet
plod through them. Must always
surrender to the trivial, commenting
on the state of the weather. Convinced
that coffins are only present in
the hands of those who seek them.

It is time again. Pop another pill.

Inside. Outside. Contradiction and
excommunication. Finding that
circles are dashing here and there
around the shapeless thoughts that
pop up like balloons on a string.
Veins flushed with the needles of
redemption, blood circulated by
the passion of believing. Music
plays but the song is unknown.
Seeking bottles that hold the magic,
which when found, will increase
the days on this planet. Around
and around spins the wheel, where
it stops, no one will know.

It is time again. Pop another pill.