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Mar 2017
passing by the roadblocks
of those utterly devoid of inspiration
I grind my gears in frantic agony
through artless days and pastel nites
the last drops of forbidden nectar looms
far back on the parody of my tongue
and I asleep in the drivers seat...listening
to the horrid sound
my gear teeth clinched hard
to placate the need by the promise
of gold plated plastic ornamentation
fulfillingΒ Β the impossible climb

the austere instigator of forgotten melodies
slides closed the gateway ahead
in clear violation of the unwritten laws
that govern all worthwhile endeavor
now those gates wreak of cynical deviance
nirvana open to all who seek to reach the peak
so far beyond impossibility ...wide open
by bane of fence.. no recompense for that gate

with my tongue overhung from morose overdose
in failed attempts of finding the trace
of even the most scant memory
now lies frozen in the throes
of twisted convolutions

while my nostrils fill with acrid smoke
as gear teeth commence to melt
suspended halfway up the impossible climb
I am pushing hard the acceleration
aided by the rigor mortis of my seizure

asleep at the wheel with all wheels grinding

while those below the uninspired guardians
stare up in unimpressed confusion
where fire and smoke screams of agony
as the dream possessed begins to melt
reaching critical mass of inevitability
caught between the high mark of false sanction
and a bottom of craggy rock distortion
like a monsters teeth and open maw
awaiting with patient disregard
at the wheel the visionary sleeps
amid symbolic ritualistic boundaries
od'D on the wreckless need
for heights not guaranteed

but out on the windswept plains
of wordless twists and rigid tongue
the flaming mass shudders to that
unrelenting silent rage of aberration
then begins the tumble to the patient maw

the message flashes through
the sudden adrenaline flooded brain cells
like the flashing signs of hiway construction

last message passing by
in bright flashing neon
tomorrow will bring inspired risktakers
who now know the starting pattern
because I can say I made it beyond
all odds where none before have gone
by passing the dreaded roadblocks
at the far end of human imagination.

I od"D on the wreckless need
for heights not guaranteed .
Keith W Fletcher
Written by
Keith W Fletcher  63/M/Oklahoma
(63/M/Oklahoma)   
617
   unnamed
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