I'm waiting for
that blissfull moment
when,
I am freed, from the torment
of the world of wars, laments
of safety,  health,  protects , prevents!
of the waking world, of
groans and moans and sighs

From the ever
silent smirking
from
todays plan, no more working
simulated twerking
bad news briefers perkin
A respit from,  "The Land of
Lovely Lies"

Oh, the smiling
nodding jestures
from
the too-cute empty nesters
the, once we were protesters
the, Winsor Knot and vest-ers
makes me look away No! contact for sad eyes.

With lead lids
steady drooping
my
pace has slowed, now stooping
alone: no more grouping
no chicken, rooster cooping.
It's time to sleep, so, I'll say todays goodbys.

I took a little ego trip
long ago, one day.
To the land of
"anywhere but here"
I did not plan to stay

But, alas, the lure was great
Promises from the past.
My Holodeck app, that was so complete
a made up world, nice and neat
For sure, it was peace at last

Sometimes "the pen" calls me
black ink throbbing
in a brass tube
muffled screams handheld dreams
with words, yet understood.

"What's your intent? One more lament
or a quippy,  query?
tale to tell?
As you invent, please just indent
and, punctuate  as you,
cast your (perma-spell)"

And then it starts.
The wiggles.
I hold it loose between my thumb
and fingers
sometimes I get the giggles
sometimes I just go numb.

Desperations, contemplations
Ego trips with routes exposed.
I'm never quite sure where we're going
So
I try to wear comfortable clothes

There are things
that my brain loves
some of which
I know not.

It isn't  that
I can't remember
It is just that
I  believe I forgot.

And so I continue
acting insanely
figuring that is
the way that I am

un-til I, pass a mirror
(a wall mounted mirage)
come face to face with my
hall-luci-na-scam

Stories of what
I like, love, and fear
tales of my woes
their numbers are legion!

The who's  I am NOT.
The whys long forgot.
The if's and so whats

and how to act
during the joyous
holiday
season
**:)

Fireballs zoom across our sky
spewing massive vapor spawn
watering, our garden orb
with agua from beyond.

Collected in a "to be" hole
(Crater if it is quite large) Bomb!
How much H2O, would it be?
A puddle? A lake? An ocean? A POND !

Stealth droplets, called, 'landing craft"
filled with teeny  folks who yawn,
as they splashdown, into our dome of air
crahing, SPLAT, on my, fresh cut lawn.

I must pause here, to lament,
the aliens brought their tiny pets
Fido, Prince, Hairball, Fluffy, Spot.
enzymes, microbes, worms, insects!

Is what they look like to me, on me, in me...

They also ignore, grav-ity!
Or they would all end up in our toes's.
Now, they fill the "empty" spaces,nest in our hair
beards, on our faces
enter and exit? where? Thru our nose

Anti-gravity, rivers, streams
flowin high above the grounds.

Powered by giant speakers that
pulse propulsion sounds.

Information waves in stealth
conveying, like particles: cars,

from their backyard "bye bye" gates
to the store, the moon, venus, the stars.

So small they nest on cell towers
tweet, tweeting their "special effects"
and form a web, grid, around the whole thing
a mulit-port, self guiding, blue cloud matrix.

I yawn and raise my arms up high
awaken from my rest.
I think about a dream I had
a-bout a little test.

A test in life, a guage of how
asleep I was and for how long
an hour, a day, some months or years?
Someone must have banged a gong

I did not search for time clues
but I found then anyway
scrapyard reciepts, swarthy rhyming tweets
no hint that I would hit the hay

A plan to set a few things right
clean up my crowded cluttered life
I must have made too much progress
or
maybe I just flunked the test

Round 73

I yanw and raise my arms.....