StaticBreath

[ControlDenied]

Yearn
wizards wiz their way out of egg shells
suns invade the sheepskin red cells
Learn
to climb from an ant to a true god
to stop making a mountain
out of a mole-hill
I came like a dream, and my dream will come
out of this world like a melting ant
like a mole
like a god
like an egg
Sit on the corner and wander their waists
stick to their coin and pretend to be beasts
Forgetting to beg
I earnt my poem.

 

[New]

Yeah, you did. We all progress from lower to higher states, and you've captured that succinctly.

 

[ControlDenied]

In the green jungle I am a thing.
In the concrete jungle I am a king.
In the psychic jungle I am a king.
Thingking to become a green-gray bubble of dust
we feel that we are and feel that we must
Be gladder than kings and larger than things

But really floating to the ceiling self-made, like dust
The poet wanders the earth
asking Production or Reproduction?
The worker toils the earth
asking Evolution or Revolution?

 

[leiphos]

I like the absurdist quality of the first post, especially the beginning (lines 1-3). The bit about the ant didn't really do it for me. I wanted the ant to be doing something ridiculous, maybe eating someone's finger off, etc. I think after the first three lines it kind of lost momentum.

I'd love to hear more. Cool stuff. You have a very unique style.