cyberspeak

I speak a cyberbabel as fleeting

as a cloud .

 It's a thought form which strips away

the vowels in a few subsequent 

possessives ...

Only the artists who compose 

the painting in music 

and animate the marble statues

with nonsense ,

can understand me.

Or else they are just uttering 

a vain plea ...

On the skin of the seasons 

I tatoo dancing pleasures ,

hallucinatory mantras  

swirling  around ...

 I speak a cyberjargon 

whose voices blend in profound mysteries

and funny mishaps ...

Often I lost myself in the gospel 

of  cybercreation...

That cursed clock showing 

only elusive letters on its face !

I trigger mutant alchemies

that make Mary Poppins laugh. 

But Harry Potter takes all

of this seriously ...

 I need to improve my basic 

magic skills ! 

I trace a thoughtful alphabet

that undulates like a sinuous serpent

whose mystical bite invites me 

to the ritual of a cyber religion

of which I am the single god ...

 Cyberprayer of  the fire 

burning in the waters vanishing 

into the great delta 

or end all the how are you 

without questioning ...

My cybertalk is that of 

borderline poets walking 

on a fragile wire between

spectrality and tragedy ...

It's my refuge when the storm 

of loud verbs blows outside...

Home port where I drop ink 

at these beaches of which 

each page writes the end and dawn ...

 My cyber dementia ...