Come On! HONK

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COME ON!

The chameleon ran vertically, straight up the wall
​and disappeared though a crack infinitesimally small

“Did you just see that?” The post man exclaimed
​“They’re the masters of disguise”, I quickly explained

Running across, peering through a small crack
​The post man kept looking, dropping his sack

“Stand back and wait quietly, he’ll soon reappear”
​And then… as if by magic, the chameleon was there.

I turned to the post man and to my great surprise
​Morphing, a giant chameleon, looked me straight in the eyes

“That is my boy” he proudly said,
​Placing him in his post bag, that turned in to a bed

And with that I left, driving off in my van
​Waving good- bye, to what was, the post man.

Who then quickly changed to a red traffic light
​Which I screeched to halt at… Try as I might

I could not escape from his tight griped clutches
​My ‘Misses’ deathly quiet, that’s not like the Duchess

Then the traffic light changed, red amber, green.
​When a ‘HONK’ from behind, shatter my dream

                                                                                Po

funnyPosurreal

◄ White Knuckle Ride

The way we were ►

Comments

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poemagraphic

Thu 7th Nov 2019 21:45

Do.RoThY
You were right... It's an age thing 😉

strange but true
Po

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poemagraphic

Wed 6th Nov 2019 23:33

Nope Don
That will be the silver orbs!

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Don Matthews

Wed 6th Nov 2019 22:14

Yes, I can indeed see the KC-135's criss-crossiing above me. Is this the aliens trying to communicate seeing their blip...blip's were not making sense?

I'm glad it's your poem we're driveling on .......

😎

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poemagraphic

Wed 6th Nov 2019 21:43

God’s ear and voice is omnipresent also.

Now with the added benefit (sic) of a plasma atmosphere we now have at ground level... Thanks to the barium and 2 micron aluminium particulates being sprayed daily in our ionosphere.

Watch the KC 135s weaving their merry way criss-crossing right above your head.

Oh! did I mention they permeate the blood brain barrier.

No? Good, Cos. that is a cosmic secret
Po

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Don Matthews

Wed 6th Nov 2019 21:30

So Po (hey that rhymes!), as well as being hermaphroditic God can also be chemeleonic ? Hey God, look, I'm purple..... Golly gosh Po he's gone purple. Is he angry or something?

I also notice Trix appears to be using the same Hand of God. I asked him if you can hire it. Maybe God runs a Hire Department of spare parts? Hire-an-Angel would interest me. Take that back. Thalia's just heard me.......

😎

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poemagraphic

Wed 6th Nov 2019 21:16

Always remember Don, our hermaphroditic, friendly architect and creator, can be any colour, shape of their/our choosing.

We think we have God in the palm of 'our' hand.

The eye we see God with, is the eye that God sees us with.

Po

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Don Matthews

Wed 6th Nov 2019 21:04

I thought the hand was rather ethereal. Bit otherworldly. Which is why I thought it may have been yours.

Oh...and God is white? I'm relieved. Wouldn't want to be deprived entry cos of the colour of my skin.

😎

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poemagraphic

Wed 6th Nov 2019 20:36

Hi Jon

Thanks for the like!

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poemagraphic

Wed 6th Nov 2019 16:24

No Don it is the hand of God 😇

Do, I have not posted this here before

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Don Matthews

Wed 6th Nov 2019 08:38

I can't ask paranormals Po
I'm just a mere earthling
They'd say who do you think you are?
Asking us this thing

Do they know or don't they
Know just what they do?
I dunno Po I'm clueless
Except they're next to you

Forgot to ask. Is that your hand?

😎

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poemagraphic

Tue 5th Nov 2019 22:07

That is certainly a possibility Don. Forgive them for they know not what they do... Or do they? 😈

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Don Matthews

Tue 5th Nov 2019 21:31

I write cos I wontoo
Despite being dumb
Got to rememba
To pull out my fumb

I write wiv my fumb but like sitting onnit same time. Can't both sit and write. Do I have paranormal forces acting negatively on me Master Po?

😎

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poemagraphic

Tue 5th Nov 2019 20:30

Hi Mason
Welcome to WOL

Thank you for liking my latest poem.

I look forward to watching you unfold your gift, and discovering how wonderful you and life are.

When we, several of us here, find we need some respite, solace, and comfort we do one of two things.... We read others poetry... and or we write our own!

When we are happy, and in the flow we write.
When we are lost we write
When feel a loss we write.
When we want to scream and shout out, we write.
When we want to whisper intermittences and sweet nothing's we write.

We can be the voice of the world.

Or our own silent master, writing
'For Our Eyes Only'
and after reading and absorbing....
Hit the 'Delete'

It is painful and it is beautiful... it is poetry!

Po

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