Ron Koppelberger
Ilusions in Shadow
The evolution of divine amusements and ancestry defined in calling flocks of dark flight, in silhouettes done gray, flittering by the cloak of a shaded crescent moon, the wind cried welcome borne errant by the suns sleeping conference, with the edges of a frayed twilight and a blood red dawn. Strange, near presumptions in velvet evanescence, by the bond of night and day, a jealous idea stealing a dream of tomorrow. With an illusion of flame and starlight, of ashen embers and velvet blankets sheltering the boughs of oaken cradles and blossoms nocturnal, a primal desire in darkness, secret. An illusion bought sure by the promise of a tear tasting sweetly of loves affinity for devotions in times passing essence.
The souls of passionate gods and exotic dares of contention, the rare wine adorned in the dew of a shadow hidden in the midst of darkness and illusion. An hourglass turned sideways almost ending the breath of a silent whisper with the dare of a seconds pause all in illusion, the sweetest illusion of immortality and the distance between here and there, the measure of what we hold in a moments rest and the advent of another dream.
Ron Koppelberger
Divine Bedlam
Where was the image of illusory flurry, arrogant and revolving near the melody of formerly complaining patients, the flurry of cotton dander and rainbow suns, the flurry that prevented the nightmares from crowding the image of opiate bliss in hospital delirium.
The blockers wore white starched uniforms and Pity William Kind along with the other patients wore green, puke green. The exotic looking woman standing next to Pity was a blocker; send me some good vibes baby he thought. A psy dream pervaded his senses for a moment; he saw soil, mounds of dirt and garbage then the words in bold red lettering above the piles of garbage, “YOUR FILTHY PITY, YOUR COVERED IN FILTH!” The words pushed into his consciousness, she pushed at him, “FILTHY PITY!” He had made the mistake of looking toward the hospital exit. He saw the neon sign flashing his escape, “THIS WAY OUT!” The living common was filled with other patients and all were oblivious to the exit sign. She had pushed her psy and blocked, he had been thinking, thinking What he thought? There were piles of garbage and dirt. The exotic looking blocker turned from him for a moment and he saw that she was really rather plain, not very exotic in appearance, his eyes became slightly glassy and fogged.
The door, he moved toward the door, “EXIT TO FREEDOM!” it said above the door. Pity shuffled through the doorway and grinned as the sun shone in waves and a gentle rain sang on the other side of the doorway. He chanced to look back, the exotic woman who wasn’t really exotic was staring at him her brow creased as she pulled at him with her mind, “GARBAGE!” he heard faintly as he walked away from the hospital and into the light.
