Ascending to a higher plane
I gaze upon a world in pain,
a field aflame despite heavy rain.
Avalanche eradicates alpine village!
Court vocalists intone cries of alarm,
storms get worse but no-one’s to blame.
After a sumptious repast
the hungry ghost unbuttons
his bulging satin waistcoat,
partakes of brandy,
accepts a cigar,
beams like a star.
Carrying the heavens
on his studded epaulets,
the general explains how
in future his space patrol will
activate lingering munitions,
erasing adversaries on the spot.
On the field of my own consciousness
far-flung battles are also being fought.
Saboteurs inject the poison of Duality,
while Identity in bovine contentment
fails to reverse the infection
before all hell breaks out.
For comfort we consort with porpoises
plagued by high suicide rates;
to the melancholic scuba diver
a bleached reef mimics greenland;
oxygen running out down there
yet instead of sinking garbage floats.
Ascending to a yet higher plane
I recall from the days when airflight
was more common how the clouds
in their clownish way tumbled over
one another, rejoicing innocently
in the pure light of the sun.