Turbulence

Turbulence

A Poem by Mey

Gods dance a merry jig

Fiddling on the wings of planes,

While I sit drinking pagan wine.

 

There are gremlins in luggage land,

Playing dress up with our fine robes.

The red eye cuts through the night.

 

I stand too quickly

And fall back to soft earth.

Paradise is may be lost

But it’s a long way down.

© 2011 Mey


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The red eye cuts through the night - good line!

Not quite sure what the thrust is here (pardon the pun) but I like the imagery.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on May 4, 2011
Last Updated on May 4, 2011

Author

Mey
Mey

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I like to think of myself as a dark and talented individual. I like to think that what I write matters to someone. I like to think that by writing that someone, somewhere, will enjoy what I’ve w.. more..

Writing
Again Again

A Poem by Mey