Imminence

Breathing in the air of another world

That stares at me from its telescope

A sour philharmonic she served…

About the non ending hopes we’ve smoked…

 

How can I prevent

The healing of your dreams?

Cause the pledge to my friends

Is to save them from the wrecking routines.

 

Who wants us happy anyway…

Certainly not God.

Listening to blues in His favorite café

Deciding if He’s appalled or oddly charmed

By the antics of the planktons

He let out in the Sea

Fancying themselves as White Doves

Yet being only as strong as planktons can be.

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[...]

Plankton huh...hmmm...
Maybe it's because our dreams aren't big enough. What do you think?

[Ana B.]

hmmm, maybe, or maybe the opposite, they are so big that we indeed seem like planktons...

[sinNsincerity]

Ouch, superb! I love this Ana. This runs so deep. Your words are so elegantly sharp and you never cease to amaze me. You always inspire me.

[Ana B.]

Thank you Sin, what a wonderful thing to say :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow this is pretty heavy...we are all planktons, in some way hanging on to others or using them in some way to survive...and perhaps God wanted us to be this way---or perhaps he is more disappointed that we don't think as individuals...we end up with a mob mentality...and perhaps his idea now would be to have another flood...i am going to start looking for some cubits of wood...
i think that other world has to be shaking its head at us.
j.

[Ana B.]

Thank you for the wonderful thoughts dear Jacob :)