PRECIS OF A DREAM

PRECIS OF A DREAM:

A mauve heart glistens pulse of upshot downscale midtown traffic...

surreptitious meanderment of scope of their contiguous imbrications,

fraught in Aeolian windswept grasses

hovering in the vessel of satellites

deemed inalienable and customary.

DNA ruled illegal by the FDA and other such factions,

arresting arhythmic metric of their obfuscating obsidian marrow,

deep in the annals of time,

made contorted by the rhetoritician's meandering confiscation of the eternal,

drawn instantaneously into apportioning mystery

devoid of revolutions.

Days are illusions of light cascading

on the surface

of spheres resonating in a void,

time

is the custom of patterns of survival,

I am nocturnal,

like an owl of Minerva,

but I too am blinded by the purported to harmonious consciousness

parading itself into pertinence

in the vomitoriums of modern policy.

Somewhere deep in the cascades of eternality,

I am a reforming symbiosis semantic and harvested

by the concomitant will of their scathing ritual,

abandoning the Valhallian rhythm of Valkyries

sifting through the remnants of tragedy.

This all done, for deceptions to fester in eternal feasts

and feats of roundabout rounding up of devolutionary redundancy.

Heaven is meal with wine,

an excellent vintage,

spilling the blood of innocents no more,

but in war the only innocents are the barbarians

refusing to prepare for peace....

acculturating Ragnarok, in a precis of a dream.

Poem and image © 2016 by Peter Kaleb Theodoropoulos aka Rockwell Wilder