February 20, 2000 10:22 a.m. pst
A helicopter blade above my brain
Whirring and whizzing and deafening me
I can't make out my deepest thoughts
I can't understand why those people are shouting at me
The blade is sharp, sharp as a ginsu knife
and I can't seem to get out of it's way
Something's happening
they're over there, for God's sake.
Let me....
Just a second....
There, is it better?
Now?
The helicopter blades in my stomach are turning
whirring and whizzing and telling me I'm hungry
Hungry for a purpose
Hungry for a meaning
Hungry for a good fettucinni alfredo but this time with a kind face sitting across from the table
I can't eat just now,
And it's....
Excuse me.....
It's gotta be better now.
Helicopter blades in my feet
Twisting me and turning me and giving me no direction
Get out of my way, for I don't know my destination
Those people are yelling..
I can't seem to make out what they're saying
and the blades are sharp
Sharp as incisive wit used to be
but the blades are cutting my pantlegs
they're cutting my stomach to shreds
those people are cutting up
something must be funny but i'm not laughing
i will whizz and whirr with the blades
and commit unconditional surrender
until I know what it all means
and the blades stop turning
but by then will it matter?
And will I still be around to question?
Let the blades turn for now
unconditional surrender
Link to the complete graphical versions of Poetry in 2000Link to the graphical version of this poem.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
AllThingsMike
