Thursday, 11 November 2010

I Strike Up A Conversation,

For I'm ready to fly
Either soar to new heights of artistic achievement
Or back into the vastness of the sky

I don't believe in fighting, so I fly


Everyone should travel as often as they can
Emerge from the grip of the local
Find out what you're like
In another space or town
Get more quiet or more vocal
Do whatever deep-seated urges
Or capricious fancies inspire

Flying around, this way and that
I only regret that I return to a fixed abode
Travel has always been my antidote
Withdrawal from even the barest of routines
Mixing up the banality brought by 'everyday scenes'
So that I might turn it on its head
Highlight different types of beings
A penchant for controversy, perhaps

This is my role, but no-one knows what I do
I refuse to identify it. Rather break up in two
I'm so deep underground
That you only hear the rumblings from below
Perpetually in the air
You might see a cloud readjust
I've got two hands buried deep in the soil
And two feet firmly in the clouds
A headstand, some might conclud
I'd like to turn upside down
Lost track of which is the right way 'round
I'm aware I make for an unconventional sight,
Epiphanies aiming for a constant state of flight

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