The Corner Pub |
Somewhere in Between |
allan Senior Member
since 2000-04-09
Posts 620On the road |
I fell into a purple pond eyeballs aglaze in green to black surfaces sticky and tubes slickering frenzy dropped fresh through delicate breezes crushed ice over rainbow spectrum drums whirling -Day- My mouth was mint in the instant I woke outside, the cock crowed. Twice. And sunlight slashed my bedroom. Slowly I blinked myself conscious. There followed a normal day on the farm. -Night- I sink. The last thing I see is my ceiling swirling in circles deep crimson and regal felt candles melting around a centre. swirled around a whirlpool, white breakers crashing stomach flies up as I drop down heart in my mouth stripes of yellow on walls of bone to black to blue to sudden stars exploding I am floating Turning Groaning in Ecstasy or Agony or Something in Between. -Day- Staggering out of bed hoisting the Levis Ten cows to milk and eyelids like lead -Night- Hm. I like this. Female flesh caressing in every direction Turning to leaves scraping blown scratchily through revolving windows I lose my legs arms head & soar in pieces to vast diamonds shining telling me my one true name. near flattened by grey jello I wake in a sweat. Crawling for my underwear Visions still whirling everywhere. -Day- Too many pigs to hatch today. Should that horse really be green? My feet sink in the sawdust by my chair. oil stains creep across my bench in technicolour swirls. My homemade bread moulders on the plate in patterns of blue. Turning, I swear the sun just winked a wicked wink through my workshop window. Turning cobwebs to gold. Outside in the orange heat a warm breeze sweeps the wheatfield. Waves in an unseen sea. Tiny spores swirl intricate in the wind. Paisley patterns dance in the shiny air. [This message has been edited by allan (edited 06-15-2000).] |
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© Copyright 2000 Allan Tierney - All Rights Reserved | |||
kelieth Member
since 2000-06-12
Posts 314Normal IL - USA |
Good poem. Ya hit my morning Dreariness on key. I enjoyed the poem. Kevin "Anything is possible with patience, time is the tool use it to reach your goals." |
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Lost Dreamer Member Elite
since 1999-06-20
Posts 2464Somewhere near the Rainbow |
Wow, I don't know if it's me but my head is spinning, what fabulous descriptions you present here. |
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dgvarner Member Elite
since 2000-05-13
Posts 3552High Springs, Florida |
allan.. THIS IS ....COMPLETELY....AWESOME!! wow...its just great..i love it!! granted, i'll have to read it again--to get what i missed the first time LOL! theres so much to it..very abstact..but making sense too.. great work!! hope to read more of these dg "A Poet's life is on written page; a scenario to take the stage--watch..." dgvarner |
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JOY 14 Senior Member
since 1999-09-22
Posts 1419Wisconsin USA |
So many descriptions so little time! You certainly filled these lines with color and sound and mazes of swirling dreams! Joy |
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allan Senior Member
since 2000-04-09
Posts 620On the road |
Hi folks! I'm happy you liked this little thing that descended on me today. I didn't know what it was about either 'till I finished it! You'll find the key to the poem here. |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Fabulous writing, Allan! Denise |
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PhaerieChild Senior Member
since 1999-08-30
Posts 1787Aloha, Oregon |
This is wonderful!! The imagery is staggering!! I wanna come live at your house. Poetry~ Words falling on paper, painting a dream. Shawna R. Holder Boise, Idaho |
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allan Senior Member
since 2000-04-09
Posts 620On the road |
(((Big Smiles))) Thank you all so much! When you think about how many ancient (and not so ancient) peoples made their own bread it makes me wonder how many villages went through freak outs! There must have been some hilarious happenings. On the other side there must have been some tragic and terrifying times too... The ergot acted much like LSD-25. Very early acid tests then. And much (St. Vitus) dancing! |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Allan.. wow talk about a morning head rush... wonderfully bizzare...have no idea what this is about but the images just leap off the screen...really enjoyed the poem ------------------------ "Take nothing but pictures. Leave nothing but footprints. Kill nothing but time". Baltimore Grotto "To be nobody-but-yourself-in a world which is doing its best night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." E.E Cummings. "Art is a lie which makes us realise the truth." Pablo Picasso "We Irish are too poetical to be poets, we are a nation of brilliant failures" Oscar Wilde ----- |
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allan Senior Member
since 2000-04-09
Posts 620On the road |
The key to the poem here. Thanks Brian. Like I said before, I didn't know what it was about either until I'd finished it. Of course the alternate worlds theory has also raised it's head - could be I'll re-explore this world of 'Between' sometime. ah, Wildchild! - as the good Captain once sang: "My head is my only house unless it rains" [This message has been edited by allan (edited 06-15-2000).] |
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