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Lucid Baggage

Cure your mind with this enigmatic passage
lucid-poetry

Lucid Baggage

There is no blackness inside a black hole.
The green valley of Avalon has no hidden gold.
A single fly sees an alternative reality
which binds you to this energetic actuality.
A one-star review gives a new reader a false promise.
The blue skies in June, can’t be seen by a green caterpillar;
building it’s tiny, futuristic cocoon.
The zest from a lemon rind isn’t transparent
but contains citric acid to make your mind passive.
Oranges and limes can’t be picked from the same tree,
but they share the same basket and look like vivid plastic.

Cure your mind with this enigmatic passage.
It is, but it isn’t – on this journey of lucid baggage.

The last poem in the best selling book
gives you a beginning without the need to look.
This galaxy is vast, our solar system is tiny,
but the universe is a pocket of infinite binary.
Let’s run really fast, which looks really slow
when compared to an athlete who trains in the snow.
Can you see the cold outside?
From a window in a glass prison.
It sits in the corner of your mind
like a wizard working on commission.
These words are a billion years old,
but they came into existence by readers of this world.
Spread the jam across your toast,
in need for the moment which leads to converse.
The warm cup of tea awaits to be nursed
but was picked by a young girl
who cries at people
who can afford to read these words.

Cure your mind with this enigmatic passage.
It is, but it isn’t – on this journey of lucid baggage.

A child slave
picks cocoa beans in the heat of his grave,
he’s never seen the chocolate and gets beat for being late.
The truth is a lie, but the myth is ignored
by people who bathe with ignorance
as they dribble sugar on the floor.
The wind will push you,
but the breeze will tickle your skin
as you walk through the sand dunes in a moment of begin.
Politics is hypocritical, the public has no choice,
but we all hold our hands out
while bleeding tears of rejoice.
Social media platforms won’t make you filthy rich,
so stop posting free content and build your own little tricks.
Words are free; these words are me,
rearrange them in a new order
that makes sense so all can see.
The ink is black; the paper is white.
A song remembered when school was alright.

Cure your mind with this enigmatic passage.
It is, but it isn’t – on this journey of lucid baggage.

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david irvine

Do your own thing in your own way and get what you came here for. I have a little book collection on Amazon - Enjoy!

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