"...in shades of azure's blue on blue..."

"...no moon, no stars just sapphire depths..."

(please open the music link in a new tab, it is very much a part of the poem’s mood)
Untold Stories~David Darling

“The Docks”
inspired by the artistic installation “The Docks”
dedicated to Scottius Polke, the artist

I might go mad tonight in shades of azure’s blue on blue,
I know now I am not the first but little comfort does that bring.
My boat to nowhere calls and sunrise stays immobilized like lobsters in a trap,
no moon no stars just sapphire depths unchallenged bogs of souls and fireflies.
Steady timid waves lap pilings marking time, while all goes still before my eyes.

"my boat to nowhere calls..."

My chair in rocking repetition will also go nowhere tonight.
The glass-bottled blue conspires to steal me from a wished-fed sleep.
Waving arms of lighthouse beams are warning me to stay awake,
the child in me sees evil in gyrating high volt streams, porcelain twisting faces.
Death’s false peace creaks the boards, while nostalgia dives and swims to other places.

"waving arms of lighthouse beams..."

I am considering this might not be my life or Life at all,
now straddled by cold mist,  fear comes edging up the land, to invade my vacuum.
Was it in rage the lighthouse took on another fearsome shape,
throwing off its buoyant bobbers in a flailing fatal whipping?
Did all hell break loose in drunken loneliness in this same chair in which I’m sitting?

"...throwing off its' buoyant bobbers..."

I see the little replicate who will never take his namesake’s place
Broken in a float not fixable not whole, scars within his painted light of sight.
The rhythmic warning of the vision came to him too late…too late
What happened on these docks to keep that gruesome windmill churning?
Not even amber candle light inside the shack can warm these blues by burning.

"...not even amber candlelight inside the shack..."

Sadness mourns the death of hope, colored shards will never see a new-born day.
Rocking my way gently to delusion, the phantom light house beckons while it haunts.
I am in it’s seductive numbing headlights, and the past pulls the bobber under
Forever on these docks I will look for whoever left the candles burning down
Forever in ink of indigo I am captured, a stunned but willing prey to this dock bound.

"...forever in ink and indigo, I am captured..."

Karima Hoisan
Feb.24,2011
The Docks at Originalia SL

* note Originalia is Amase Levasseur’s sim, dedicated to art in SL
New Installations by Em Larsson, Scottius Polke, RAG Randt & Eliza Wierwight will be opening on Sunday Feb. 27th. at 3pmslt “The Docks” I will do another post on the other artists showing tomorrow. This poem asked to be born first…as poems often do.