Imagine

53Victor Sloan

 

Imagine
Speaks the man 
And all answer, ” We do”
Where have all the prophets gone?
Smoke and mirrors
Clear away and leave the followers bent
With empty weeping
In pain for the hollow space 
Strange days have found us
And left us wanting more
The hero and the sunset both disappear
And the restless crowd searches for a talisman
To keep back the night
Bold as love can be
It withers without the visionary
Lead us, tell us, decide for us
As we turn as one and intone
I have a dream
But first you must give it to us…
 
*artwork by victor sloan*
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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