Stonefish Tigerlilies & Other Oddities

Poem By gordon coombes

Free the guilty hang the innocent
Love your enemies hate your friends-

an elephant paces the floor
outside my room
knocks on the door-

Tulips sprout in the toilet bowl
paintings hang from trees
clouds drift through my head-

cars sitting idle at night
on these quiet streets
of what do they dream-

Her eyes were tiger-lilies
her face was a mirror
walking around inside her head
I discover it is a house of mirrors-

paddling through shimmering glass
canoeing across reflected blue skies
& drifting clouds-

On a sunny day there are tropical fish
swimming in the sky-

birds etched trapped in stone
dream of taking flight-

a naked woman sits
on the edge of my bed
stone marble tears
slide down her face-

Unknown poets sit in a restaurant
feasting on the flesh of dead poets
fishing for visions-

Out walking on a warm spring evening
admiring the new blooms
of fish on the trees-

In the shadows those fish near death
sprouting out of the ground
speaking their last enigmatic words-

Congregations of giant leopard slugs
performing a secret ritual
in the bushes
gnashing rows of razor-sharp teeth
as we approach closer
we are frozen in our steps -

Reading meaning in the cracks
in sidewalks -

Seeing Angels dancing
in swirling cigarette smoke-

Menacing demons' eyes
staring through dark windows-

Turning clouds into mandala
& weeping Madonnas-

Finding visions of Gods
in rainbow-colored puddles
of gasoline-

twisting slips of the tongue
into an insight-

Freezing moments of madness
frozen in moments of madness-

Cutting out pieces of a life
creating a collage-

Pasting limbs & torso together
breathing life into the Golem
without a soul-

Ripping apart a sculpture
to understand its form
composition & meaning-

Stripping away layers of paint
to see the artist's vision-

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The Masks We Wear

searching for a mask to wear
trying on one identity or another
where is my true face you ask
& I wonder about it

Let's Get Surreal: For H.P. Lovecraft

Lets get surreal the rest is too common place
let us crawl inside paintings
roaming ancient ruins
crossing ancient battlefields

Tourists Travel & Empires

tourists trampling the world
into dust
trying to get a last view
of a dying world

Runawaytrain No.2

It’s the price of fame
you’re on a runaway train-

love is just a game

Oh So Sweet Weed

seems like centuries
years stretched out
across this desert
crawling along

Walking With The Dead

spending an evening with the dead
as i take my nightly walk
along the streets of this sad little town
along the streets of that sad city years ago