Just some of my cellophane ribbons...
Like cellophane ribbons
intermingled in a fluid cosmic breeze,
they ripple and cascade over
and around the far off glistening stars.
These are the strands of my memories
that have left this mind,
and which, now travel on forever,
never dying, never ceasing to exist.
Speak a word and hear your voice
reverberate off valley walls.
Echoes that continue -
though diminishing -
until you cannot hear them
with such insensitive ears.
But the sound? It is there.
Transmit a picture by modulating
a simple vibration.
Then detect its progress:
some of it reflecting down
from the Heaviside layer,
much of it, however,
continuing on,
outwards and onwards
to join cellophane ribbons.
In a caldron, pour
seven trillion mixed free atoms.
Add to this the kiss of the creator’s wish,
one single strand of DNA,
and hey presto:
the mixture will coagulate,
and it will form…
her…
She will change,
you will change,
and after so many changes -
at a molecular level -
one or both of you will need…
another kiss...
will feel tired...
will seek the comfort of the caldron once again.
Seven trillion mixed free atoms
seeking new employment….
But the wish?
Ah! That goes on for ever.
© Griffonner 2022
Poetry by Griffonner
Read 202 times
Written on 2022-02-11 at 17:02
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THE WISH
Like cellophane ribbons
intermingled in a fluid cosmic breeze,
they ripple and cascade over
and around the far off glistening stars.
These are the strands of my memories
that have left this mind,
and which, now travel on forever,
never dying, never ceasing to exist.
Speak a word and hear your voice
reverberate off valley walls.
Echoes that continue -
though diminishing -
until you cannot hear them
with such insensitive ears.
But the sound? It is there.
Transmit a picture by modulating
a simple vibration.
Then detect its progress:
some of it reflecting down
from the Heaviside layer,
much of it, however,
continuing on,
outwards and onwards
to join cellophane ribbons.
In a caldron, pour
seven trillion mixed free atoms.
Add to this the kiss of the creator’s wish,
one single strand of DNA,
and hey presto:
the mixture will coagulate,
and it will form…
her…
She will change,
you will change,
and after so many changes -
at a molecular level -
one or both of you will need…
another kiss...
will feel tired...
will seek the comfort of the caldron once again.
Seven trillion mixed free atoms
seeking new employment….
But the wish?
Ah! That goes on for ever.
© Griffonner 2022
Poetry by Griffonner
Read 202 times
Written on 2022-02-11 at 17:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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F.i.in.e Moods |
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one trick pony |
