Late Night Mind Walks
Let your mind slip away through the fissures in your skull and bring you back treasures from it's travels
Late Night Mind Walks.
I have discovered that there is
much comfort in keys
tapping like an old friend
at the window.
Fingers wiggling
in a tender wave,
a smile of whimsy
bends my lips
and they form an Oh!!
I realize that poems
are wine, vintage sips
of yesteryear...
tommorrow...
forever.
I grow heady aroused by
the scent the taste,
the essence of putting
words to my bottled up life.
Though the
hour is late my mind shakes
off sleep like water repels oil.
while loneliness slinks in
the shadows of love
peeking at its brightness.
I could smoke almost anything
right now coat hanger tubes
lawn clippings even fish.
Old habits die hard
but this poetry thing is eternal.
I suppose I will even rattle
my bones in tidy little rows
that paint prettier pictures
long after I am ensconced
in satin and bronze
six feet deeper then
the last poem I wrote.
If they offer
cushions for a skull
why not poetry
for the afterlife
after death
ever after.
A dog barks
a train whistle wails
a light bulb flickers
and the keys to my dreams
they lie before me.
Can I make any
sense out of
qwertyuiopa sdfghjkl zxcvbnm.
it is the seventh
sense this art
it opens up worlds
that most never
dare enter.
Simply unscramble
the keys and enter stroll....
scroll....
through soft mists,
peach clouds, sweet kisses
that go on and on,
a song that is crystal clear.
The rulers are
the subjects and the
subjects rule gatherings of
everday words into masterpieces.
Let me come back
as a keyboard
reincarnated as
simply this.
Beat me
into submission
pound some
sense out of me
enter me....
exit me
let me shift into
the backspace t
hat I once left.
Home is here between
page up and
page down.
Insert my
soul there,
delete the mundane,
it lies next to end,
keep tabs on me
and I will go
on forever, pursuing
what I love.
Escape with me now
wiggle "your" fingers
in a gentle wave
let a smile of whimsy
bend your lips
my old friends at this
window to the world
that monitors
the finest wine.
share a chardonay day
with me and let a bit of
the poetic nectar
spill across these
white sheets
electronically scanned.
Sleep is overated
print your dreams
with eyes wide open
maybe then they
will come true.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
© 2010 Matthew Frederick Blowers III
