-
The plumbers Pipe dreams  











 I, my bottle of oak-matured  Irish whisky and the old mahogany pipe

A party not joined by my thoughts

nae my owl eyes

I can feel the elegance emanating from the reefer hazily rising

To the calm peaceful warm airs.

In the back of the retina the null void spaces

I can see the wisdom of the aged pipe

For wisdom and experience are

                                                   of blood
   
Glitzy tomorrow on a dark today

Sunshine after the storm

Love and the world not into the head

Bed of thorns

Soggy floors and surfaces


Stand or seat?

 
I hibernate in queer spaces

And rest in strange places like a bird of night

Reminiscing In the clean sanitised UNDEFILED airs

Where no breathing creature’s ever been

Constructing these castles

Painting the sketches of conscious dream like a desperate artiste

With mad hope of selling his soul on leather to the blind eye








These are my pipe dreams no soul ever had


 None ever saw

Psycho kinesis ,

Sometimes, most times, My workspace is dirty and foul


Am a plumber I fix sewer pipes and leaks
                                                                                                                                                                             



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WHITE CHRISTMAS

-
  WHITE CHRISTMAS How I wish I was old enough (not as Poe though) and bucks flowing through my pocket on a vacation with my hot dame out slowly melting fats on the white sands of some paradise else-where. What a silly dream though? For a moment I stop to wonder why human daydreams and fantasies are spooky than their nightmares. If I had a David Hurley I wouldn’t want anyone on it on such a day but few packets, some sausages, ham and some rum too for the love of the wild country road and its charming roaring winds. I wouldn’t mind to listen to the voice messages the day after in my cold mountain log cabin as sparrows and squeals of the day before fill the pregnant ether. Usually I‘m not a wet blanket so if I woke up at ten with drops of ethane and wormwood still suspended in my uppercase inhaling what the a stranger in my bed is exhaling,clearly,the carols would remind me which day it was before finally being blinded by red. Two almost three decades that have melted into sweet  or
Read more
-
Image
Fallen god. If these streets loved you And time was your only friend Ooh fallen god The stars would have dimmed and fallen from space And the sun died from obsolescence and jealousy If only chance fell in to your constant seductions Wishes would have been witnesses and not horses Of dreams not in slumber but in sober, conscious broad day light thought The whispers of thought would be too loud  For every blind eye to see Enough to instantly drown despair In a fraction of a nanosecond And reserve for me among the gods In history books my name in unerasable ink I would rule the universe if I had chance But I rule my universe, am a fallen god
Read more
-
Image
  A WALK INTO TIME, A JOURNEY THROUGH TIME.   It’s 2021 and I am going through a thought in time but I don’t know how long it has been or how old it is the moment I’m reviewing this. Were it wine it would have grown richer in taste, darker in tone and would now be able to raise the taste buds by sheer anticipation at the mention of the name. If it were Italian gorgonzola or swiss cheese the bucks would’ve gone up steadily. Sometime back a couple of months or years ago if I am not wrong didn’t know then that I know now. A thought flashed through my mind and I thought it could be brilliant idea that could make a TED talk (I rarely listen or watch them because of reasons best known to me). It was about time. The thought slipped into the blues but till today about now it still lingers in my subconscious mind as it has come to prove. I hold curious views about the subject matter for very complex reason that I cannot be able to substantiate physically. I don’t know how I may validate t
Read more