JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Frozen constellations of words
wait in future dictionaries
to be freed from their icy embraces
by our probing pens
anagrams of immortality
they stare unblinkingly at the universe
their eyes, invisible as black holes,
lifeless keys to the stars

 

Somewhere in a starry night
play our mischievous children
staying up late,
unaware of the intergalactic cold
they juggle new words of innocence
that float up on wings of merriment
to thaw the sternest spatial glaciers
shatter the bleakest cosmic mirrors
with giggling gibberish names of glee

 

But we inventive authors
are busy with other agendas
ballads of blood and pride
compelling slogans of critical mass
passwords to fleshy paradises
contracts to be broken
the small print of our lives

 

And who’s to say
which words will survive
which random combination
may break the silent code
keep the spark alive
and which may write humanity’s epitaph
on a cold airless globe