By 3t3RN4L

Dreamweaver

Fermenting textures of indistinct off-white
rolling out from the ever-blue
Kingdom of Heaven.
Newborn solar rays reflect on silken strands.
A spider's web glows like angelic wings,
against the stretching green
Spires of Verdure,
and towering tree-turrets that live and thrive.
A spiral, circle, triangle...
drawing distant stems together.
And Anansi's sweetest little baby
sits there dreaming in the center,
weaving love through morning air.
Meditations bridge the now to never.
The threads that bind us all laid bare
by such a sweet eight-legged cherub
casting faith against despair.

Our Storm

I'm just another cloudy day
trying hard to keep the storm at bay.
I'm calling on the wind to carry all that rain away.
I'm a time of faith who cannot seem to find the strength to pray,
doing everything that I can think of to unleash those solar rays.
Hoping that an orange moon will find her way
onto the stage where I'd display that light ablaze.
I wish that such a moon would find her way
into my sunny sky to stay,
and make me feel as if an endless summer's come to play,
that I might really start to feel,
like I am more
than just another cloudy day.

Summer Haze

I just saw the Pittsburgh skyline from Stanton Heights. And the clouds were so mid-toned and low. It looked like the tallest skyscrapers were melting out of them like batter pouring through some misty funnel, and with all the post-rain psuedo-summer haze looking too much like October for this time of year, I could have easily believed that this City was in reality the bowels of Charybdis. And all of us merely unfortunate sailors swallowed up by the Ancient One. And as I gazed at the fading outline of Downtown, I was reminded so of the fae that haunt this land that we call home. And I reflected deeply upon the great numbers in which they seem to roam around these parts, when with a start I did divine a thing that brought forth a lonely tear from my weary eye. For as those whips of ether overtook the buildings, strong and static, I did perceive with utter certainty This City's most abundant resource was never really Steel, but in truth, was always Magic!

3t3RN4L (pronounced “Eternal”) is a veteran in Pittsburgh’s spoken word community. This performance poet maintains the 3t3RN4L Official YouTube channel which features videos of his work. Using experimental styles, he focuses on the interplay of spiritual and fantastical symbolism with the common human experiences that make up everyday reality.