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KENNETH N COOK

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 1/10/2015 |




PLASTIC MAN

Poured into
the steel mold
where shapes
are created
from soft
blobs of
dead plastic.
[Boil and burn,
bubble and bake]
Lifted from
the iron jaws
to cool
in stale,
waxy air
until I am
a stiff, hard,
silent, identical
NOBODY.


------------------

DISORDERED

I dream of a soft world
where smiles float
and sweet laughter
spirals slowly down
around my dancing feet.
I long for a gentle place
where diamond eyes
sparkle into my face
and warm, strong hands
walk me through
green forests of wonder.
[Hot blackness rains down
and covers my body
like a shroud of fire,
as the shrill screams
and rusty laughter
pierce my fragile skull
and hammer like thunder
at my disordered brain,
while 10,000 demons
of my own creation
devour my fiery face
and gnaw at my
pale, trembling limbs]
I dream of a bright world
where I slide over rainbows
and drink the golden sun.
I long for a welcome place
where the Earth sings
and the sky sends stars
to dance across
the gentle blue waters.

-------------------------

THE WORD

A thousand words
spinning around
inside my skull,
shouting ideas
and mumbling
definitions.
Searching the sky
and scanning
the horizon,
trying to find
that spark
of inspiration
to incinerate
the Earth,
ignite the air
and boil
the seas.
A thousand words
whirling about
within my brain,
screaming themes
and whispering
concepts.
Oh for that one,
that singularity,
that perfect word
that will
set the world
on fire!


[KENNETH N COOK]


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