A Rainbow Appears.

The days were long with shapes.

Coming to an end in consciousness, withholding its form.

Wild pilgrims take shape, in the millions! Eternal divide. Returning without posture to the open sea of night, revealing its thirsty questions, with no escape. Except the blue night appearing in myth.

Strange Gods aware of the violence, on a satin bridge sing spiritual songs in dramatic campaigns of modest glory. We enter the household of green fairies, who flap their wings like w****s…

On a balcony a queen too beautiful to see cries out for the hearts encounter with itself.

An arrow enters her heart. Deemed dead and resting in a dream, with the stamina of a fable.

In anguish the heart lives, alive

In the patterns of wild horses,

galloping in the hours of the sun.

Is it possible in the quiet houses that parties of flowers flourish with enormous encouragement? Where one feels the peace of inclination to imagine. The numbers of my spirit add up to nothing! Existence fully aware of itself!

Let the flowers blaze; leaving the earth smelling

Of iron.

I had stolen the petals of fire and burned in the gutter,

Ready to rise.

The long cries of my stomach, the golden flame. Carrying

An ocean of fruit as the earth melts and as soon as the thought

Hits my heart, a rainbow appears…

But it will never tell us what it knows.

Reviews

[R.J Calzonetti (Siniste..]

Greatly appreciate the way you bring things to life. As you said, symbols are quite beautiful ways to express oneself. The descriptions, metaphors, the unique take on a world put together with pieces that most writers wouldn't use improves the work greatly. It is the way I like it, with plenty of questions asked, while the readers can give infinite answers.

[Danny Metcalfe]

Thank you. Appreciate your feedback. :)