RIDE

There are some subtle

Electro-magnetic powers

With invisible actions

Whose inert causes are not

Immediately foreseeable 

Or known

For the better or for the worse

How would one know?

What’s the gut-feel?

That’s all there is you could

Work with.

OK. Let’s detect the thoughts

That slide-show on one’s mind:

A night on a runaway fast train

The body hampered with endless

Rattles

A heap of bones and skin

That lies rejected at the

Luggage-coach’s dusty floor.

The cooled down body warms-up

Gradually in the morning sun

That streams thru’ the gaps

Of rough wood-slatted walls.

In a flash of light the scenery

Disappears

Strapped into a new-age-

Batman suit

The artist flies across the world

In mere seconds

And enjoys sensations beyond

His wildest dreams.

Another flash and he stands

At his easel drawing the woman

He desired

Painting her in her blooming youth

And half a century later he realizes

In a double portrait

That time has chiselled many lines

Into their faces

He layers into a cut beech tree

With a hundred year rings counted.

The artist will not have to wait for

Another time flash

Creative moods gather like clouds

And their contents will flood

The artist’s canvas

In one continuous wash

Its sediments remain.

Art the great Electronic.

The endless adventure

We artists ride.

RIDE.EDIR

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

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