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A
Postcard for Posterity
During
my pre-packaged flight, I realized that the now deserted planet,
was suffering silently from an incessant brain fade, words,
pictures, numbers, facts, graphics,
statistics, specks, waves, particles, motes, all floated up
towards my sleeping bag, like a vicious stream from my secret
childhood, I could smell dried apricots coming now
somewhere from California, the automatic dishwasher went on,
in order to show the excited TV viewers that the multi-lingual
report was coming somewhere from outer space,
I brushed my teeth with an old rubber-band that someone had
left in a rusty sink after pissing freely in it, the whole toxic
ethos of our amazingly distorted view of earth was
snatched up by a new technical device from Cocoa Beach, Florida
and it flaked off my unfamiliar skin like a disposable frisbee.
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I
Saw Layers
I
saw layers of sailboat, ocean, and bridge as I looked down towards
those mushroom clouds that were swiftly towering up, as the
subtle cliffs and hills of
the
Indian Ocean were viciously caught in a lightning-like holding
pattern, while bare-breasted Australian babes were laying in
the pinkish sands, all was
concentrated
beauty seen with keen professional eyes, which glimpsed traces
of ocean currents, plankton accumulations, interesting industrial
pollution,
geological structures, forest fires, saline soils, all basically
at work in the same experimental boat.
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As
Bright as Seagulls
Your
smile was as bright as seagulls bathing in distinguishing sea
puddles of deliberate star-fire, the shapely birds slowly squawked
at your long brownish
hair
which rolled forward like rich fog pushing against your freshly
tanned skin, swallowing your infinite oval face with its bright
eyes of twinkling dark
lights,
you had the energy of roaring foghorns inescapably, the presence
of an emerging dawn, brownish with hazes of flapping power,
something that
complelled
you to admit that you wanted me, as the fierce winds of your
curiosity blew like billowing blankets towards a confrontation
as puzzling as
seagulls
screeching to heal the wounded and soft spots in myself that
you found so stimulating among the chorus of exploding beaks
and feathers that
were
this unique gift to our intuitive genius, that only a curious
priestess could explore with relentless and accepting kindnesses
that were precariously
present
as the rows of puzzled birds ignited impulsively your miraculous
gift to me of your female cosmic powers.
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The
Feeding Deer
I
squeezed back into those good bushes,
that the feeding deer were fortunate of, as
sudden winds blew blood and judgements,
around the loitered sufferings of this solitary
mad walker, who stopped in the pure vacuum
of the vanishing dry fields, as he trudged
along with his withered heart, a blind slave
lost to his sweet passions, pomp and absurd,
like the tall eucalyptus trees, that fawned and
towered above the moon, wounded as it stood
guard above the slumbering earth.
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The
Hot Dry Winds That Cowered
I
could feel the hot dry winds cowering
on the way--back enchanted, as I looked
above the sun's dry, brilliant lips, while
outside peering into the earth's sleek and
breezy blackness--which snared and disgorged
these mournful and bleak lizards, who darted
across an old creek bed, dry now with yellow,
lusty weeds--where waters miraculous, once
flowed before the everlasting hot shrieks of
the furnace winds--that ran their unknown and
giddy experiements with hot, intense, white
lights--that now sweetly breathed this inaccessible
perfume which was the gorgeous stuff of sleepy
dreams--that disturbed the troubled earth.
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All
contents of this site © Finberg Books 2000-2004 by Michael Arthur
Finberg
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