The Mixture
Hot and cold and calm and ire
black and gray and blue and pink
skies of calico and skies of banality
vulnerable and flexible and pliable
shifting clouds from ladles swirling
brewing potions from colossal wizards
invisible but relevant still but moving
smooth and graceful steady stroking
blending peace and contention together
bluish skies and bestial clouds
effervescent and banal skies
the innocent and the wicked
forming creatures with slimy tentacles
snaking through dark corridors
caressing the ebon air with sensual fingers
wrapping the gray around the black
dancing unto the rites of the macabre
painting the skies on Satan’s easel
poetical inspiring with storied faces
gargoyles moving off their mount
sorcery at the hands of the devil’s curse
blackness swirling at a furious pace
tempest forming bearing razor fangs
tempers out of their pent up cages
breaking loose and wreaking havoc
playing with the trees in the forest
stirring up the seas with their blowings
laughing at the tossing of the ships
in their mighty acts of demolition
having fun on the playground of the earth
mixing hot and cold together
serenity and havoc, peace and upheaval
beauty and the ugly, peril and the commonly
love and the unloving
life and the unliving
the too calm and the too disquieted
as opposites roll on together
in an irresponsible manner
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