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"- Jimi -"

Pixie dust sprung from Jimi's eyes
as he rolled in microdot dreams,
purple phased out blades of grass
waves, then heaven screamed.
We watched smart pebbles line the beach
marching to a Psychedelic Sousa band
we know must be playing somewhere,--
discarded notes were strewn in the sand.
The pea stones kept amazing time
clicking piezoelectric sound
counting out the midnight sun
--- as darkness shone around.
So who has seen the sun at midnight
shining darkly,, shadow rays
playing hooky with the pixies
as the rest just stood n gazed,
The thief he stole our conscience our ego
and our self, left us singing Dylan songs
whose lyrics were his wealth,,,,,
The joker saw the sun go down
a shimmering silhouette, whilst
the thief atop his watchtower
lit a final cigarette.

Last few words: 
This is meant to be a "shaped poem", alas, the site won't let me post it that way.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


Ethereal, that's how your poem strikes me. So well written, my friend; and with that I must depart. It has been great knowing you, a gentleman and fine poet. JerryK

>Please visit my website:

Hiya, Jerry.

thanks for stopping by and depositing mate, its appreciated !


author comment

Hi Obi, your poem intrigues me. I love it, but don't understand it well. Evidently, you're poetizing about somebody I don't know, except maybe Jimi Hendrix.
I've always been a fan of Dylan's. So I've dropped by and gotten a nice surprise. Please tell me a little more, something that one can't "tell" in poetry.
Great to have you back, Gracy

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

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