Creating an universe

If the poetry is a fortune,
so it must be the fortuneteller.
I'm getting poor on rhymes
and shifting nimble minds
out of claustrophobic mode
to remove myself, as code,
from the deepest mnemonic cellar.

Freeze on Google, maintain the searching,
chopping moments with new ideas.
It's time for reaching walls,
for those that made of holes.
Deaths are peek-a-boos in lair,
market-broken-news to share.
I’m in womb of myself as trio.

So the new Universe starts spinning,
new beginning and novel pivot.
As from a bottled floor
a chaos opens door.
But the clay is not a brick,
not some heartless-monster-freak.
Call it – Adam and Eve (his rivet).

Rising gardens from pure devotion,
hords of snakes guard each fruit forbidden.
Hey, Adam, listen man,
this is your second chance.
Make your mind, for sake, conceived.
babes are apples, tempted Eve
and remote control – far from Eden.

Since us both share true me as sonny,
other duo plays spirit-father.
But who will riddle heart
with cold betrayal’s dart?
Who will place his honeyed lips
for the air blasted nip?
Alleluia! (hard-coded) B-R-O-T-H-E-R.

October 24, 2008