Lamp poem

An armchair crashes
in the light reborn
preceding the lawless beyond the unknown.
All who look on shudder.

Camera-eyes write in howls,
the cyberspace enterprise.

Us, language diverging in passes,
we stir with inchoate sounds

dark roads of winged philosophy,
birds of narrow lies,
wind upward through the mute wood
and unchanged grasses.

The first emails wait
in the shadow
writing truth
in a still world.



I hold in my head a True Vision,
but you don't care,
so you won't See.

You Look for the Conrete
in an intolerant world,
too constricted to recognize
Real conflict.

Imaginative exploits bring
out of my Mind
an Eye-
opening rendition of
as I wish you were.

Shy wonderings hold us
back, back
from Us and
we couldn't care but We
are begging
for a release.

The lock is ticking
away the minutes till Our
chance is no more.
A smith could fix
this, but You have
the Key.

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