Concerning Grandfather clocks and hummingbirds
The birdshave already started their early-morning cacophony
by the time these words
start coalescing into a sentence.
The sky a dark hue of fading midnight atrocity
Pervade the dawning day as it returns, seeking vengeance
For entertaining the notion that the night might be perpetuated
Punctuated by a dream in violent shades of Monday
Complete and merry with a hairy early morning traffic-jam,
tasting of violated strawberry and ham
and just beyond my window nothing is as it seems
I can still hear the screams of a train that is braking
Hanging halfway out the third floor of a house across the street
It sings in hollow tones of steam, that now ye be awaking!
To a new and horrid day, naught can hold it at bay
It is all to no avail, every dream is bound to fail"
And a thunderous herd of nightmares are set loose upon the city
And they prey without pity upon empty cars and bars
Now is the time to pray to every god you don't believe
So much destruction to achieve, come on, we have no time for grief
Now spread your feathered wings and fly
Into this ultraviolent sky,
Who knows, you might be right, so feel free to pretend
The time is now, my friend,
to chase our dreams and hopes
So gather all your ropes
and catch a hummingbird a third one just flew past this moment, they race to see the dawn
Before the lines are drawn
and we redefine reality, a whole new violation
of everything that's possible within this constellation
of conceptions and ideas running wild on open seas
blown hither from afar, upon a gently blowing breeze
and we fly across an open field of haunting possibilities
those vaguely indistinctive shapes you see down on the ground
go seek your dreams and hopes, they are wanting to be found
and a thousand green balloons are floating through the air
without a care in the world, now catch them if you dare
and a massive fleet of ships set sail for unknown realities
aiming to shatter the borders of the mind
there is so much left to see, so much to be, so much to find
Ten grandfather clocks are all melting in one by one
coalescing into puddles, oozing down the cobbled street
in another fleeting moment all the wooden clocks are gone
turned into wooden puddles that are cooling our feet
and a hardened old captain sporting one wooden leg
is sitting on his ship, where he is kicking at a keg
when suddenly he shoutsThe time has come when things are seeming!
Arise, ye scurvy bilge rats, it be time to be a-dreaming!"
Balloons are moored to the ship; soon we are sailing through the skies
Amid screams of birds and laughter drifting past a thousand eyes
That are floating in the clouds watching all that is begun
Avast, ye hummingbirds, chart a course for the sun!"
The captain shouts, and we are certain that he knows where he is heading
weigh anchor, me lads, lest a beheading we be getting!"
And the many ships are creaking as we fly towards the east,
Where the captain assures us we shall find a splendid feast
Rejoice, me hearties! See this as a token!
Everything is possible, the Seemer has awoken!"
Shouts the captain, pointing with a finger to the east
And there, amid the waves, we see the waking of the beast
The Seemer, like unto a dragon rising from the sea
With glistening scales and leathery wings, at last, now he is free
Now summons he a gale, that propels us to the shore,
From whence the Seemer came, whither he dwelt, in days of yore
Come my friend, let's run ashore, now come and take my hand
The time is now, let us explore this new unsullied land
This is the realm of unreality, where everything can be
Go, create your dreams, here we are truly free
Now come!", the captain shouts, Now come ye scallywags!
It be time ter run about, there be booty in them cracks!
Now step lively, me hearties, it be time ter fetch them shovels,
Lest ye'd rather be dangling from the yardarm by yer bowels!"
Looking to the sky, you descry foreign constellations
Congregations, condemnations of these recent correlations
And the nightmares flutter by as they decry this new deception
This reception of inception does defy any conception
Of repentance or remorse, a whole new source of laws and orders
Crossing borders as the daughters are committed to the slaughters
And later now, a waiter tows a dozen cows across the prow
It's no concern, for he is stern and he will get them off somehow
At last we come upon a hall with tables set in narrow lines
Floating casks are filled with wines a fair atonement for our crimes
It sits astride two waterfalls and torches line mist-covered walls
And everywhere around laughter is mingled with the calls
for mutton, bread and ale, and at the sound of a fanfare
a hundred silver plates are set a-floating through the air
thus the tale comes to an end, a toast is echoed round the table:
drink up, ye scallywags! And drink as much as yer be able!"
Poetry by Lalando
Read 721 times
Written on 2011-05-14 at 10:23
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