.
Its 2 am and I am so wired.
Why can't I just be normally tired?
As others enjoy some restful sleep,
I am in a place far more deep.....

And the abyss calls so inviting,
          a leap into the unknown and beyond.
With clarity I jump out and fly,
          an excuse for reality to quietly abscond.

Psychedelic nausea as the dimensions twist,
forcing me to a place where I do not exist,
a land in which I may be killed or kissed,
but certain my presence would not be missed.

The feelers take a hold of me,
     whispering secrets of antiquity,
revealing images of aeons gone,
     in spoken word, rhyme and song.
I have the histories of many worlds
     all in my mind strung up like pearls.
A line of lanterns alight once more,
     open and willing for me to explore.
And my pale blue eyes no longer see
     the images created by any reality.

It is secret knowledge of ancient times,
I receive in the script of cryptic rhymes.


© Pagan Paul (09/08/18)

I am big on iambic pentameter
  About that I could never lie, since
I pass every poetic parameter
  And earned my poetic license

It’s a delight to know the fear,
providing a loss of life. With
only the moon that wears
feathers from phoenix. Gold
drippings and arch of eternity.
Rebirth not from water, but of
soul selling to herself, in
innovation and originality. As
the others emulate. Starlight
allure, speaking languages
with humanities musings.
Waking the dead world, dropping
men to their knees as their
boyish behavior is pulled to the
front. Relinquishment of dogma,
as we all enter a new age.
As chanting songs in homage
to her. As no more tears to cry,
to what she avoided in the first
place, is attention from others,
pushing away romantic gestures,
conversing conversations, a
standard practice of life’s narrative.

She
        Shouldn’t

Be

           Mine

But

        I’m

Glad

              She

Chose

              Me

Oh no you don't, website.

I want no part of this selection process.

Please remove this.