Idle Musings - Randomness of the Wandering Mind

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Uruk
(for the jewels of Baghdad)

The jewelled veils no longer lift
From faces touched with golden dust,
Blue-tinted eyes behind cool silk;
Bright charms and river-silver beads
Are now dull, crumbling flakes of paint
That stain the cracked tiles at our feet.
Wet lips and tongue that tasted drops
Of ancient water from deep wells
Are sterile now in kiln-hot sand,
Torn by spearhead strike and slash
And smothered in Mars' orange cloak.

But still we dance, as all around us,
Stumps of palace walls like teeth
Cracked and worn to sandy gums
Faceless soldiers fired in clay
Shake their ancient dusty arms
The rumble of gunmetal drums
Provides a rhythm for our steps
While titans grapple in heavy mail
And trample the dirt outside our gates.

T C B, 2005.

Passing through this world on my thundercloud I look down at all the dwellers and their petty arguements. I am fascinated that Man cannot live without looking to another before thine own self.

I have ten friends.
You have twelve.

Why do you have two more than I? What's wrong with me that I have only 10 while you have 12??

It's so terribly fascinating.

The pain of what tomorrow brings will never hurt me
Yesterday's hurt has yet to subside...

This has been started and yet to be advertised, if you happen upon it, please do enter your thought, art work, question or whatever is on your mind that you care to share.