Poems are born and given
names like people are don't they?
   vested with special brainy wings right? then ejected!
 as if birthing slides
help push them through
a cyber time machine
computerized world

poems seem to travel
as in rockets to space
yes that fast!!
Others ballooned by air
in baskets moved slowlier
or in simple rainbow sorted
balloon batches and
then gone with the wind!
inflated by helium air
initials inscribed on each
from the parent poet or poetess
"A lot more happens
to poems"
Lucky few reposted by the
holy sages of H.P
a few more seem air lifted in
an eye blink secluded in mysterious arenas
Jack in the box boxes!
private uncirculated rooms
there reveared?
All poems in my world
seem firstly inspected by
the same compassionate
doctor, few masked Knights
powerful mystery kings

birds of song, purring cats
even angry dogs all sorts

same crafty nurses seem
to eagerly revise
their parchment scrolls
and from there nothing
is heard of these
baby boomer poems
or if ever are read by others again who can tell? It's unclear unless a fee is paid
its like having children
really isnt't it?
that must be sent away as in
time machine missions once named treasured revised
adored then freedoms grant'd
some poems will make it explored reapearing loved reposted moving priceless!
other poems perish
by green with envy
other muses hubbering
curiously around
lizards wizards snakes
all sorts.
Poems seem to travel  
dead silent through
a cyber mirror
Twilight Zone
~~~~~~~~
By:Karijinbba.