Pterydactyllic hexameter
chasing a cold font musing and stopped there, my glove in its beak,
flying away from spasms of thought leaking, through windows
to the great open skies of unthinking thought;
reptile bird smiling at taking, hardly a new thing,
this glove from my bed.
4 comments:
The discerning of creation into fixed form is thwarted as some force carries it off into the oblivion of unconscious dissociated thought fragments.
emerging manifestations of Thought, forgotten, leaving...before Form....Our mullions block access through the Mind's portals.....Left, grasping from our cage bars......
Indeed...
the Reptile Brain knows that silk gloves are not, in the grander scheme, of great value.....the arms reach not for the gloves, but to the Amygdala, from whose direction the arms are given power, which is always out of the reach of Intellect or circumspection.......
Post a Comment