Rip, Flare!

Rip, Flare!

A Story by DANGER

Tiny people, tiny hands, 
puny leaders, puny lands. 
Set a cage at a corner store, 
and rattle the caged doors. 
You'll be able to hear
beating rhythms
from the caging walls.
The clatter, patter 
and the screeching
The jingle, jangle,
and the battling 
against the bars.
Battlefield in the marketplace, 
raged against the lock.
Limitations to keep you 
from sinking, but 
to keep you 
Patterns and logic
dressing on robotics
round and round
here we go
ring ring ringing
on the phones. 
Who's there? to 
a Knock, knock.
Bang, bang, banging
of the storm
Rock, rock, rocking
of the waves
along a long long ride,
hours upon ours 
atop our shoulders, 
by a boat ride
weighing in with sighs.
Down to the grave--
Tracks of a cemetery--
Marks and carving.
Tricks for many treats and gifts
a bounty wrapped neat
Like shells of the sea.
Dug holes into stones
like sea shells and cheap sells
hardening hearts dead-stiff
as if it's more profitable, 
as if it's more likely.
More probable that
Hungry, psychosomatic
plague of appetite, 
bodily blood, as it swells 
apart from love,
shedding nightly,
pangs across the seats
Fog slipping through
rips and tears of
the bone, getting to my head
The fog getting to my mind
right along a
Ride along
Ferries of merrymaking
songs soft spoken 
mainly a part of 
an opening
sung in a smoking land
Better rip away, rip apart 
from cloudy days, dark winds
raining upon bone
before you become a fog machine
before you turn into bird brains,
airy and clouded. 
Put pressures on the beating storm,
and float, winged 
on the rise
aerodynamic, feather
words in the wind,
blow by blow.
Pound on the doors
Bang into the sails
until there's a light, 
lit up like a firework.
Make yourself beam.

© 2017 DANGER

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Added on September 13, 2017
Last Updated on September 13, 2017




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