In Wraps the Hummingbird Sings
Cloud-Ism, Frowning Cafe, Hovering Ray
“We are slowed down sound and light waves, a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos. We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play their music,” — Albert Einstein
I walk a thin rope,
Standing on a divide —
Within the cordon —
Cac-o-phoney of clinking
Swirling, convoluted Monkey Shoulders,
Paining jaws, wailing-plastic wrapped
Sycophantic laughter,
Tucked tight in cardboard rooms, dimly lit,
Invisibility augmented with fuming
Havana imports,
SoMe confessions with a cracked heart
Preceding hearty Vodka shots
One..two…three…
Excuse plastered.
Over the fence —
Screaming, shouting have-nots,
Jilted, bruised, seething hearts,
Fist pumping in air,
Revolution stylised,
Crocheted with table punching
and punch lines,
Slippery mock-tales of half backed truths,
Incessant whiners, avec* reasons or not,
Convenience galore in one-sided
presentations…..
Standing on the divide
I walk a rope tight —
End loosened, grails short-sighted,
Running headlong after that dangling
‘Carrot’, moving further from the finishing
line every time,
Near yet far…….
The cosy clubs of Plenty or Scarce
In Wallet, Material or Care,
Binding like H2 and O2
Sensually hydrous,
Propitiously copulative —
Gases put under pressure
change state,
Shape of shapeless sniffed,
Existence defined…
Palm-capping my ears to both —
I rise above the force,
Body in plank,
Centred on my wrist
and heel,
Strengthening my core,
Injecting some balance, gait and
grace to my genetically ill-rendered
spine,
Rehearsing gravity defiance
Support-e-nadir…….
Away from
The scream-n-tell
Tell-a-tale
Soap opera of oozing hearts
Bellowing lungs
(Oh! Take care they don’t burst)
Alien. Alone. I float. I stand.
‘Cos in wraps my ardour breathes….
Parched for words I look up to vision a winglet
perched on the cable,
‘Be throwing a challenge, “Say human, can you fly?”
I smile.
Go birdie, take your flight,
The sky is yours to hammer,
I keep my wings in wrap,
Conniving with my hearth to convert
my inner Brownian to bliss —
‘Cos in wraps my ardour breathes,
‘Cos in wraps the hummingbird sings……
*avec=with
A Flyer: “I am not wise or anything like that, but I am hopeful and brave enough to greet a new beginning with a smile,I am not a fashionista,Cover girl or an icon of perfection, but I got a heart,goals and a symbolic style” — Bachul Junejo,Enough.
Painting: The Chaos of Emotions, Opaque Water colour on cold pressed canvas.
So long from Soul Bay.Your dropping by for engagement, encouragement is a pleasure deal.
