Surreality Poem by David Whalen

Empty space, time and dimensions
A place Where clocks have no value
and time no meaning
A place in the mind
with no geographical measures and bonds
The province of fools
and those seeking redemption
Too much explanation,
too much rationalization,
And the world of empty ambition
from which there’s no rest
A place of chaos, confusion and panic
In the roseate brilliance from fiery forges
Or dim lit sky… bisected by silhouettes of birds
Where the pull of a thread
Unravels the sweater
And chains chatter coldly
Upon hollow flagpole
Where sands are etched in hieroglyphs
By footprints and talons
And smiles are as brittle as broom straws.
Wherein your pulse is akin
To the sound of a kettledrum
A drear place where sharks circle
With cold patient eyes
And the music is the creaking
Of weather bleached windmills
Tilted in terminal space
Of shadows pooled in dark, dank places
And lights, like both blades of razors, and
Glows of candles in graveyards at night
Slick pools of greasy mirages,
Places of light smudged with fog
Empty spaces….Endless time
Infinite dimensions…
…of time and spaces…