While belly-crawling my way through some of the narrower passageways on the ragged edges of the interwebs, I emerged one day (several months ago) only to find myself perched upon a cloud. This was not like the usual cloud of vaporized hydrogen-dioxide no, this was a living, thinking species which permeated my existence causing me to momentarily forget all the muck and mire from which I had previously emerged. Fresh and refreshing, new and nuanced, strange and strangely inviting.
You know me, I was quick to tell the BlogDogIt'eers of the wonders I had found; when thundering rumblings from the clouds on high rebuked me with authority for the transgression I had made. For Sonmi's Cloud was not interested in being found out about. Of course I am nothing if not sensitive to the desires of clouds and promptly acquiesced; removing all traces of this Shangri-La from the prying eyes of the internet public at large; content for a season to privately follow the activities of Sonmi's Cloud via covert RSS feed.
So now, it is with sincerest pleasure that I shine the BlogDogIt spotlight, up into the clouds (with special permission from the elusive Sonmi) and ask you to welcome into public view Sonmi's Cloud. I trust you will enjoy this discovery...
Trust in Me…
in Poetry - Iambic Rhythms from the Aether and the Cloud.,
Words and Curious Creations From the Troposphere.
Come with me,
With only myself there,
The sudden centre of your senses.
Focused intently, entirely on where I lead you.
You might be pushed off a cliff,
Descending face first,
Smashed to a bag of bone fragments,
The air still holding the remnants of your scream.
Or led into a field,
Pollen tickling your nasal passages,
A red flag tucked neatly
Into the back of your trouser waistband,
Hanging down to knee level
Flapping merrily in the wind.
Nothing to hear but the hammer of your heartbeat
And the drumming of the Bull’s hooves
As they bear down on you.
As you become the china.
A level crossing,
Ducking your head quickly under the barrier,
Then stock still.
My hands resting on each of your shoulders
Push down and have you sat on the rails,
Zen-like with legs crossed
Awaiting the coming express in 60 seconds time.
The gritty smell of salty air.
Into Sea World we go through a sneaky side gate.
One sharp shove of the elbow
And off you fly.
Orca has her luncheon provided.
Nothing left of you bar your watch,
Ticking away obediently.
Or into the trees,
The whispering thicket.
Till I halt you in your tracks.
My hands gently holding your face,
Lips brushing your mouth softly,
Knots untied, and eyes unmasked
To take in a picnic laid out in the shady glade.
Food to be consumed greedily
After greedily consuming each other.
Finger licking nirvana.
Here’s the blindfold.
You’ll do it if you trust me.