Today I Was Not Visible
Today I Was Not Visible
I find that the significance of my aura is never a definite or constant value. Several factors determine the quality and field of radiance.
My chances of remaining noticed by others are directly proportional to my aura and a combination of other illusory realm factors which are not under my control.
The extent of my invisibility usually varies quite a lot on a daily basis. The phenomena is much like my ability to fly in dreams.
Sometimes I need to vigorously flap my arms to barely get off the ground. Other times I can streak around the wild blue yonder when comfortably believing it is possible.
The extent of belief I have is the key factor in either case. My abilities to fly and be invisible are directly proportional to the extent of my faith.
The basic principles of faith apply to all levels of consciousness including the time I sleep and dream.
The animated heart was designed for the poem but the frames were merged to a single image.
This poem probably best fits the category of fantasy poetry.
Today I Was Not Visible – Poem
Today I was not visible.
Nobody did acknowledge me.
I jumped and waved before them all.
I was someone they could not see.
The words I spoke could not be heard.
Repeating twice I did persist.
But they heard not a single word.
My body seemed to not exist
Stark naked I did walk around.
Nobody even looked my way.
I made a mess upon the ground.
No person had a word to say.
I suddenly then realized
for me they simply did not care.
Soon medics had me tranquilized.
They took me far away from there.
Delusions they would have to treat.
But told me no meds I would take.
They bound my hands and then my feet.
Holes in my head the drill would make.
The doctor said I must not flinch.
The shackles held my swollen wrists.
I felt the drill do more than pinch.
Bracing myself I squeezed my fists.
I saw them catch the brains that fell.
Anesthetized I still felt pain.
With mouth taped shut I could not yell.
They said that I would soon be sane
A bottle now in front of me
would suit me fine beside a pool.
Not this frontal lobotomy
with slanted smile and constant drool.
END OF POEM
Positive thinking does not give me any control over my uncanny abilities. It is necessary to totally believe that those things are possible and not merely convince myself that I believe.
The original version of the poem was published in the eBook and paperback versions of Loquacious Lair Of Poetry.