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Looking at the Stars

Lyrical Poem for My Song 'Look/Looking at the Stars'

By Chaffee WoodPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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I lie, and I look up at the stars, wondering who we really are.

I stay down by the ocean and the faces beneath only make me envious at their electronic fleet.

Sometimes I’m there, in a glass suit that was built for me; in time it ages slow for them but to me rapidly.

I followed them through the swirling currents and into the thrashing sea. On a dark stormy night with a cold wet wind, I set out to find their origin.

On that dark night I had discovered a light below the water’s roof. I swam down deep ‘til my lungs seemed to burst, and I caught the rim of a champion. The center of their gleaming ring held an electric sting.

From under the floor, with cloud of a murky sand, arose the ancient silver deity, it’s lights beaming all over me.

Tetrahedron matrix even overlapped the product of the season, for a cruel but fair reason.

This wisdom interrupts for the purpose to tell you it’s worth it to pay attention to the signs you’re unaware of every day…

Discussing this with the man is confidential, out of the plan. They’ll tie them up and bury them in sand, anchor them down, and let them die gasping for air.

I ask them what brought them here, to our land and below our seas. They said it was gravity; I assured them it could not be. They said yes, I said no. They demanded I put out my joint- Ha! I asked “so?”

They got closer to me, shut the door, turned the lights low, showed me their eyes, removed their disguise, and said they weren’t from planet Earth… But otherwise are very much alive and in our bodies thrive, and that we actually derive from their experimental cosmic eyes.

When they returned me back to the beach in Brazil, where I was before, I could not see, yet stared so long- catatonic in a way but not really gone.

After my sight had returned to me, I now bring good messages to all thee that enter this beach alone. But, I warn them if they are not ready they will face the twilight zone.

So, I lie, and I look up at the stars. Wondering “is this who we really are?”

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Chaffee Wood

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