I am a lunatic poet
in moonwalk scribbler mode
with a deplorable lack of gravity
who scandalize the dignified crowd .
In a sea of deceptive tranquility
to make you believe in my passion,
the tide deposits an armful of seaweeds
that will bloom like artificial flowers
on a tombstone ...
Tomorrow is dead on arrival .
Give me back ,this yesterday's juvenile elixir !
Am I just a disheveled symphony
sweeping me away on a passtime journey ?
Elegant chevalier -errant ,
Quixote in search of windmill sentiments
to seduce just for one night stands ?
Adventurer in lady's fingers affair,
fickle tormentor of reckless hearts .
I will always to be faithful to the rendezvous
of nowhere ...
And you'll wait for me ,even if I'm already present...
There is no such thing as happy love .
And that's why we love ...
Have some sympathy for a poor devil !
I would put you in the void of my will ...
On my dance card no more names
of flirtatious girls ...
and I am not longer setting trends ...
but don't lapse into my cosmodrama !
I haven't forgotten my moonwalk step ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 23rd, 2026 11:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
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Comments2
There is something enchanting about the moon and its light. It casts a dreamer's shadow and Dulcinea del Tobosa awaits and waits and waits.
When life itself seems absurd isn't madness hidden in
a moonwalk step ?
Michael did not invent it but made it famous The absurdity is Ecclesiastes where there is nothing new under the sun and I would add the moon. It is all absurdity and madness. I'm glad no one is looking or at least remembering.
Nothing new under the moon ? ...Makes me wonder !
They don't call it lunacy for nothing
Self-irony turns disillusionment into something graceful and refined. Beautifully written!
Disilusioned confession of a child from another century...
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