Post by James Martin on Mar 19, 2012 22:30:58 GMT -5
Quixotism Unabridged
(co-written with my best friend whom, if I write to stimulate the emotions, writes to stimulate the imagination)
Rivers abounded not to the breeze, subtle on the waves
Whilst the dainty clouds of Jupiter compelled by wintry gaze,
Took upon itself to construe a trifle misconceived
And neither lady nor gentleman alike could tell apart such mere discrepancies.
Suppose the world a dance and merry would it be,
For Unicorns and dandelions would dance twixt the summer rain
And the April showers so to speak; again abound a sultry blanket
Of stars, both literal and of man,
No more cries of, 'the circus has come to town, by Jove'
For here would it be, with us to stay.
And for extra comedic value, I do beg a promenade!
The soft touch, as a mother, of the sun upon my back
Wrests me from the circus; but the ending of this spectral opera, lacking
Meaning or purpose, why has it been snatched from me?
I can but guess at the pathetic fallacy.
Circus or no, tis the summer’s embracing breath I feel surrounding me,
I wish not to awake from this passing fancy,
And yet it is in this singular moment, alone, I see
The truth behind a trifle too many
Upon the page the author scribes, seeks to document
The glories of the Jupiterian scenes of opulence.
The dance a vision twixt reality and dream, the ending guaranteed.
Fancy fading, farewell queer dream! life has but to supersede.
Back we fall into the world, a song! a tune wrote out of key.
Superfluous as the passing bird, content in apathy;
For neither stars nor heaven’s rain, afore such complex schemes,
Will steal into my heart again, when I dream such fantastical dreams.
(co-written with my best friend whom, if I write to stimulate the emotions, writes to stimulate the imagination)
Rivers abounded not to the breeze, subtle on the waves
Whilst the dainty clouds of Jupiter compelled by wintry gaze,
Took upon itself to construe a trifle misconceived
And neither lady nor gentleman alike could tell apart such mere discrepancies.
Suppose the world a dance and merry would it be,
For Unicorns and dandelions would dance twixt the summer rain
And the April showers so to speak; again abound a sultry blanket
Of stars, both literal and of man,
No more cries of, 'the circus has come to town, by Jove'
For here would it be, with us to stay.
And for extra comedic value, I do beg a promenade!
The soft touch, as a mother, of the sun upon my back
Wrests me from the circus; but the ending of this spectral opera, lacking
Meaning or purpose, why has it been snatched from me?
I can but guess at the pathetic fallacy.
Circus or no, tis the summer’s embracing breath I feel surrounding me,
I wish not to awake from this passing fancy,
And yet it is in this singular moment, alone, I see
The truth behind a trifle too many
Upon the page the author scribes, seeks to document
The glories of the Jupiterian scenes of opulence.
The dance a vision twixt reality and dream, the ending guaranteed.
Fancy fading, farewell queer dream! life has but to supersede.
Back we fall into the world, a song! a tune wrote out of key.
Superfluous as the passing bird, content in apathy;
For neither stars nor heaven’s rain, afore such complex schemes,
Will steal into my heart again, when I dream such fantastical dreams.
