Sky Riders

…a poem

A91-179982

Our silver hull cleaves the sky

Propellers drilling tunnels through the atmosphere

Gautama floats cross-legged over cumulus fractus

Shiva rides the rainbow

Cthulhu calls down the waterspout

Yeshua walks on the waters

The elements are at war within this ethereal realm

Yet Blake’s angels buoy us up

and we luxuriate in Teutonic splendour

Phoebles don’t touch that it will break   …told you

Helios scorched Icarus falls

but the sons of Hermes sail on air

Bleached felines of Duat quiver

For captain America comes

The brown dwarf Nemesis lurks beyond the Oort cloud

waiting on his rightful time

Dark Lords

the Merovingian Lizard Kings stir in the House of Snow

Furnaces roar and hammers clash

Titan’s chamber echoes to the clamour of industry

Fata Morgana fashioned in steel and rivets

Mass produced engines of doom

From the bowels of terra

And we…

A muscle-bound and fake-tanned Kronstadt sailor in neat air-stewardess uniform, pearl earrings, crew-cut and high heels enters at this moment, pushing a refreshment trolley.

“Coffee or tea?   Pork scratchings?”

“Tea, please, strong two sugars.”

“Have you got a latté?”

“Lapsang Souchong for the pilot?”

“Americana please, shaken not stirred.”

…few

we happy few

rush towards our wyrd

Do we wish to live forever?

In the name of all things felid, what are we getting ourselves into?

Pass the catnip

Enkidu formed of clay

saliva of Aruru

heed my words

Hold the Mayan Apocalypse – till another day

 

Ginsbergbear, beat poet;

Mid air over Milton Keynes,

2012.

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