Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Day I Started Floating

                        Day I Started Floating
by Stormm

One Day I Just Started Floating, rising up and up and up,

until air and ether began replacing my semi-solid ground.

Purple, cream, orange futon clouds lie awake beneath my feet,

as I sail asea drifting platform skies.

With each stride I'll rise on pillows of successive supportive clouds,

skip along, spinning around and tap-dancing airborne stairs.

Propelled miles beyond the planetary surface,

effortlessly exerting even more hot-vibe life-force energy,

to space travel via strenuous but tremendously rewarding efforts.

At first it was merely one leg or the other,

going temporarily higher with each step,

spontaneous strides then rolling over somersaults, in leaps and bounds,

bounce up and down to test out the limits of my wind slide cushions.

Running up to an invisible spot where I can achieve gradual lift off,

climbing upon air waves before slipping off to plummet earth bound.

Get back up build enough steam sprinting until elevation occurs,

even if it's only slightly, briefly.

Over and over and over again, until eventually, I creatively figured it out.

As if you're finally able to affect enough force,

reaching a point where it's purely your decision to return to the ground or not.

Like scaling invisible steep uphill energy paths, in an electric blue room.
Initially shocking experiences during the firsts of any unpredictable sudden

updrafts, would toss me into a vortex through time and space.

So stay focused now, steady.

Breathe with ease and enjoy the incredible sensation of surfing these transparent paths,

feel the shifting golden support tidal waves beneath my heels.

Foams of weightless suds disperse, my spotty footprints fade in the sky.

I'm trekking feathery pillows of pink, green and shale clouds,

swooping alternate side dives, then woosh!

Immediately plop back upright.

Leaping miles above, from one vast continent to another,

dancing out glide-slide experimental wind drafts.

Hands extended wide a tightrope walker cautiously proceeds,

balancing gravity defiant until it hits me like atmospheric pressure.

"We airborne now", gravity's no longer an issue even worth considering...

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Sunday, 15 July 2012

Cloud Cowboy

                               Cloud Cowboy
by Stormm

Lounging on clouds afloat the sea of breeze,

orchestrating life forms so serene each eye sheds a joyful tear.

Composer with golden feather in hand, incites fresh thriving abundance.

I'll whistle fantastic tunes, admiring how my organisms follow suit.

Ohhh the leisure life,

observing and marveling as each newly formed world turns,

rotating it's first few of countless many cycles.

I create and direct boundless wind currents and tides,

commanding the trees and plants to grow.

Peering upon their quickly forming climates.

Whistle a tune until the birds follow suit,

eternally surprised by how they'll continue to improvise vibrant,

colorful melodic variations, riff off my initial phrases.

Within these clouds sometimes it gets foggy and may take a brief

moment's adjustment for strangers, but not I.

One projectile breath blast upon these cloud bubbles,

is sufficient to easily and playfully pry them aside.

Serene thoughts flow unaware of traveling enormous orange, 

violet, neon grape skies, peering upon quick forming climates.

Is that a Golden Star-Ship coming my way? Woosh. How rude!

Didn't even stop for a drink or chat, no stray signal honk? Hello!

A diamond shaped silver craft zips by as I leap off my cloud,

flying in hot invisible pursuit.

Why be in such a hurry? let's go see.

Perhaps another futile scientific experiment by those tragic

yet so often amusing, shallow Shadow Lords Of Time?

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Saturday, 14 July 2012

Watcher Of The Skies

                                   Watcher Of The Skies
by Stormm

The Watcher Of The Skies glares down upon the sizzling naked city.

Mute, dispassionate, wearing a cold blank expression.


Unable to detect or record The Artists Of Veiled Thoughts,

nor Adepts Of No-Mind.

Like a blind vampire bat on silent, empty afternoons.

Sadly Insane, while habitually deploying it's precise sweeping vision.

The perfectly logical recording cyborg spy, a patented scientific breakthrough.

Automaton. Assassin. Abomination.

Failed result of twisted science,

formerly mankind's most promising niche of genetic research,

predictably gone sour.

It alone observes me, but knows not exactly why I'm watching.

Suddenly it momentarily disappears, to reappear right beside me,

much too close for comfort...

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Thursday, 12 July 2012

IV The Emperor

                           IV The Emperor
by Stormm

The Ram Enthroned On The Mountain Top.

Upon mountaintops miles ahead,

the well-established Emperor surveys his entire domain.

The Good Father, provides for his family behind a stern appearance.

Offensive Mountain Ram Miles Ahead.

He clenches the gift of life in right fist, astride his grey rams' head throne,

wrapped in red robes.

Silver arms and legs reveal a shield of full plate armor.

Red Blood Of Life.

The Crowned Conqueror Ho Nike, The Stormm King,

he the ruddy faced "Son Of The Morning, Chief Among The Mighty."

The Warrior Seer beholds five windows simultaneously.

Powerfully exerts his influence in the form of active creative energies

directed upon five elements, throughout 25 dimensions,

five by five tattva conduits transmit electric alternating currents, lo, concurrently.

The gold crown on his head upholds at it's summit the symbol of Aries.

In his right hand the Golden Ankh of Life scepter,

his left displays Golden Sun Of The Burning Orb.

The Ram On Fire Mountain Butting Heads, challenges the status quo,

rushes out to encounter opportunities and confront obstacles head on.

Charges in full stride, passionate, unrestrained, aggressive.

He's the active male principle, The Healthy Ego, Hero The Action Man.

Orange mountains on my left, yellow mountains on my right,

steep slippery trails from whence weak hearts plummet into the abyss beneath,

falling away behind my throne, rooted solid with deep foundations.

The Mighty Solar Warrior directs from on high,

comfortable atop world globes.

The Lone Eagle On Barren Mountains,

confidently observes all from my dizzying heights of power and leadership.

The Protector maintains his position of strength,

fertile dynamic controller of rich and abundant lands.

My long beard represents experience, displaying life's hard-earned lessons,

offers guidance and wisdom to others.

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Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Ringside Tarot

                             Ringside Tarot
by Stormm

Ringside at a boxing match in a huge arena or stadium,

near front row, middle section VIP.

Between rounds or just before the fight.

There's a beautiful semi-clad woman in red high heels and miniskirt,

strutting around the ring.

She carries a giant Tarot card held high above her head by both hands.

It's Key IV The Emperor.

"War, Conquest, Victory, Strife, Ambition."

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