standing at the crossroads
between reality and imagination
the art of appropriating the familiar
and transforming it into the bizarre
i lace up my feet
and walk through the sky
dodging the queues of drones
who shuffle along in single file
i am silhouetted against a white background
by the bright spotlight
a faceless woman drapes herself languidly over a white steed
white clouds are superimposed against a starlit sky
the roots of a tree break free from the earth
its trunk merging into a castle folly
a dislocated head floats in mid air
a mushroom cloud balances delicately on a wine glass
pictures at an exhibition
a celebration for a grey day
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a meandering journey in search of beauty, truth and meaning
2 comments:
raises lots of questions for me this one - which is a good thing of course. some of those questions are:
are you one of the drones as well?
are you walking through the sky because you are tall or above the rest?
the streetlamps has been turned on
like the stars twinkling in the indigo sky
when peoples are fast asleep, dreaming their dreams of all kinds,
you are wandering the sky
viewing the scene of exceeding grotesque
which of them are realities? Which are imaginations?
the fairy lives in the palace of the moon look at you surprisingly
- you wear your white shirt with red flora design
like a prince walking out from a modern tale
you sit on a high chair,
Echo(obviously she has not met her Narcissus yet),
cloud, and maybe other beautiful nymphs of water are judging you
through the pictures you’ve drawn
- they are most wonderful pictures i’ve ever seen
I’m lead by them to a world of music, of poem, of living life, of spring, of blooming garden…
the streetlamps has been turned on
like the stars twinkling in the indigo sky
L.
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