Within Clouds

A tunnel flared – The inner glow scorched A soul: I had an awful role to play – To say and not to pray. I took a bowl of energy – Tired batteries charged – River nerves awoke – For I was just electrons – Though my attention spun around To catch those other particles of nature: Beauty quarks And anti-beauty quarks – What the hell are they? – Ugly; beauty; beauty; ugly. Life spins within the clouds: Impossibilities are best approached by lesser mortals Via quanta of drinks: Cider blurs And I concur I’m neither physicist nor anarchist – ‘Tis best I drift in time – A state far more sublime for brain To take the strain Despite oblivion at the door. Now, bye-bye world – Poetry doesn’t cut it anymore: You can’t romanticise The quest of science. I’m just a compromise Between the eyes of mediocrity. Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011