Hummingbird,
Reflecting shattered
strains of
stained glass light,
invoking the laws of physics...
You,
Threaded a muted conversation
through soup can telephones
into this delusional bubble
within the Novocaine fog.
Unexpected disruption
in my comfortable illusion,
grating vibration buzzing in...
Inadvertently excavating
that secret chamber,
pressure sealed,
Only to find there are no treasures inside.....
For the Sphinx has lost them,
and the mummy's venom
reactivates in this bent light...
and digests me...
from the inside.
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Dear Poeter, The poem carries
Dear Poeter, The poem carries thoughts and meanings along the path of the primitive search for life. Here life is something that changes from man to man as the end of a quest, otherwise the beginning of an end. Thoughts of this life are fully explored in the schoolhouse of the mind that collects memories within something called the indirect. The kiss of the snowdrops on the wound of the flowers and the meaning of the memories of man's tears will be brought from this universe. All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations
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