across the mind's i
the images arise,
like flotsam carried upon the waves,
washing up after a frightful storm
along a cluttered shore . . .
tanks wheel across hot desert sand,
the barrels erect like penises--
spewing fireballs into night's womb.
fireworks fall upon children's heads;
sounds of life's laughter
distort into screams of the dead . . .
a knight and lady lay naked entwined,
whispering secrets heard throughout time;
they caress, stroke;
they roll around and gently moan.
an egg awaits in darkness
soon to be a swelling home . . .
mountains rise,
and the earth trembles and quakes,
waves reach where soaring condors fly;
trees uprooted, animals crushed,
fish float bloated in the lakes;
skyscrapers toppled,
pyramids, scattered bricks,
birds fall to the ground, singed . . .
pen upon paper dance to a song still unheard,
wool spins into a sweater
for a shivering little girl,
pigments splashed upon a canvas
by a cat chasing his tail,
a castle rising out of sand,
by the dirty hands of a little boy
as he imagines his home as a man . . .
plains thunder as wildebeest flee,
though one lays behind, dismembered
by a dripping lioness's maw;
a snowfield shutters,
feels the pull of downhill
as the spring sun breaks from the clouds;
two old men sit laughing in the park,
until one stops, clutching at his heart;
a black hole in a galaxy's center sucks
down every sun and planet coming near;
a queen of beauty beholds the looking glass,
sees breasts sag and bony hands gnarled . . .
marriage procession and solemn vows,
a house filled with many rooms of dreams
with strong safe walls;
a beggar with a dime finds a bag of gold. . .
and puff!
the dream ends.
and all the thoughts and images,
of the mind
and its fabrication time,
nothing more
than a story never told.
Janaka Stagnaro copyright 2003
janakastagnaro.com