Friday, May 12, 2017

Rob Schackne #331 - strange new poem

strange new poem


you can see it's a surf beach
the shoaled hours invisible
what makes us dance in gold

i won't doubt the arguments
that claim we're not special
but lord please look at it
and tell me there's no purpose
because we're no different


he's playing his favorite instrument
the guqin at the end of the world
her hands are hidden
clearly they're both insane
strange new poem
how far a pattern comes

see them making love on a planet
where mind and shell aren't intended
for hearts to work or their souls to know


  1. another one for the alien anthology!

    that last stanza really takes me there


    1. first aliens were monkeys
      after that came the sapiens
      and then the sensates
      bless them all

    2. Contact,by multi dimension,the universe is surf


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