Play Me A Rainy Tune
I raise my hands,
my fingers in a tepee sign;
put the tips together up front,
balance my sense of being
in light equilibrium;
consciousness, spiderwebby, sparkling,
a ray out of skull and sky;
cognition, recognition
swept in a hue
I detect pulses out of Northbothnian fences,
and the double-edged reconcilement sword,
the cruelty of humbleness,
cut throat mastery of laughter and smile,
ill-will of mercy and shortness of breath
Not much is a stake,
light seeps 'cross the floor
Nobody dances with No one
through empty-handed romance
The Moon doth simmer,
The Night rises haughty,
humanity hammers nails
Seven dwarfs are preparing poison,
Snow White is working the streets
Religions make up for lost gods,
lasting Death must be based on good verse
Life boils down to traces in sand,
nails pulled from planks make for arty sounds
Bury me out on the lone prairie,
or in amongst Wailing Wall crowds,
I'll adapt, I'll be so dead and cool,
just sing me some hammers and nails
- and play me a rainy tune!
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Read 97 times
Written on 2023-07-21 at 15:07
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