I think that I shall never see
A sight as strange as a flying pig .
A winged pig that snout is sky-wised pushed
Against the earth’ fantastic slopping roundness
A winged pig who may fly all day,
And lifts whimsicality toward higher climes;
A pig that flutters in the icy air
A flap of wings and oinking there ;
Upon whose flight our imagination ascend
Our imitations in inward horizon up-sweeps logic .
Fall guys like me write poems,
But only metaphors like flying pigs
Can rise in ink stained skies and barnstorm
the very gates of eternity with winged couplets.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 1:43 PM UTC
I think that I shall never see
A sight as strange as a flying pig .
A winged pig that snout is sky-wised pushed
Against the earth’ fantastic slopping roundness
A winged pig who may fly all day,
And lifts whimsicality toward higher climes;
A pig that flutters in the icy air
A flap of wings and oinking there ;
Upon whose flight our imagination ascend
Our imitations in inward horizon up-sweeps logic .
Fall guys like me write poems,
But only metaphors like flying pigs
Can rise in ink stained skies and barnstorm
the very gates of eternity with winged couplets.
