I devised some inspirational poetry, this has nothing to do with Nintendo, or any related paraphanelia.
A lustrous hummingbird,
Wings bludgeoning the air, like pistons in an engine,
Sustaining a temporary burst of life in an automobile.
The wings, aglow with telling syllables,
Meanings for the curious heart to decipher.
Yet their beat was steady: constant, equilibrius.
Through the constant, rapid, yet bewildering rhythm.
Fladda-ba-da-biddy-batta
wadda-badda fladda-dadda
Rattle-tattle-batta-pitter-patter
Dippa-dappa-bitta-bata-boom.
I could not make good sense of the archaic designs,
My curious heart aglow with a wonder-all demeanor,
Making search for the lost meaning of the obscure mystery.
The rhythmic constant of the beat once again clouded my awareness.
Fladda-ba-da-biddy-batta
wadda-badda fladda-dadda
Rattle-tattle-batta-pitter-patter
Dippa-dappa-bitta-bata-boom.
The test that stumped them all,
That schooled the scholar,
Dumbfounded the demurer,
And perplexed the poet to a point of passive paramism.
For the symbols underneath the guise of the rhythmic bludgeoning
were unreachable by my stream of thought,
yet I sought them like a legendary blade
that would cast out evil,
I continued to muse, endless drivel driving my fingers,
Which seemed to do the musing in place of my mind,
I strove with an athlete’s determination
To focus my eyes between each whimsical note,
Generated by the rhythmic hammering of the wings.
A melodic tune, unwavering,
I began to comprehend it in the form of a tune,
Reigning against all distraction
Mist of bewilderment seeming to dissipate.
What I now recalled in my wake
No longer took the form of a hummingbird,
But the figure of a flawless woman .
As beautiful as any from a dominion of fantasy.
Her eyes aglow with perfect scrupulousness.
Her skin rendered with wrinkles resulted from years of wisdom,
Her honest eyes dimmed with rife aging,
Yet sparkling brighter than the physically flawless,
Yet immoral youth.
I allowed the hummingbird’s illusion to caress my mind,
I whiled away the hours,
Gaining wisdom from every silver lock of hair
Placed with great care on the sagely woman’s cap.
On a cloud, she whisked me away on a quest,
Through the first rainbow of my inner being,
Where I discovered clarity, and obtained wisdom.
Next, standing before of me,
Was the form of a child, innocence aglow,
Thought dead to the world,
A scarless soul, no need for loneliness.
Not a reason to detach from himself,
Or a need to comprehend the rhythm
Of a hummingbird’s wings,
For his perception of joy not yet begruzzled
And his vision not yet clouded by the
epishods of polluted sand from man’s pale.
He sent my mind on a journey,
Across the second rainbow of my inner-being,
Where I discovered clarity, and obtained faith.
The hummingbird then assumed a final form.
The form looked familiar to me, beyond all recognition.
I stood agaze at myself, as if a mirror had suddenly appeared in my wake.
I felt pity on the reflection, who reflected my gaze timidly,
As if I were a foreign entity.
Little words did he speak, for he was aware of naught.
Awaiting answers, a curious and sojourning heart,
Yet his spirit claimed by anguish, naivety, and doubt.
I looked at the figure who resembled myself as I was,
Yet not as I now am.
The sagely words of the old woman,
The shear innocence of the joyous child
United, forming an orthodox blade,
Its pommel was laden with jewels of wisdom.
My hand gripped its handle,
Wielding the heroic blade with avant-garde
And smiting the reflection,
The stalwart heroes’ blade piercing the reflection’s heart,
Leaving no carnage, nor excess gore, it caused me no caustic pains.
The reflection of my former self cast down, and all that remained was myself,
Standing anew, prepared to decipher what realms were yet to be discovered,
Each echo or strand of sounds now resonate in my soul with renewed sonorous vibrancy,
As if I absorbed life’s true essence.
The epiphany of peace that many will never uncover.
And all this from the man who devised daldordings, proving that some people are very dual sided.
A lustrous hummingbird,
Wings bludgeoning the air, like pistons in an engine,
Sustaining a temporary burst of life in an automobile.
The wings, aglow with telling syllables,
Meanings for the curious heart to decipher.
Yet their beat was steady: constant, equilibrius.
Through the constant, rapid, yet bewildering rhythm.
Fladda-ba-da-biddy-batta
wadda-badda fladda-dadda
Rattle-tattle-batta-pitter-patter
Dippa-dappa-bitta-bata-boom.
I could not make good sense of the archaic designs,
My curious heart aglow with a wonder-all demeanor,
Making search for the lost meaning of the obscure mystery.
The rhythmic constant of the beat once again clouded my awareness.
Fladda-ba-da-biddy-batta
wadda-badda fladda-dadda
Rattle-tattle-batta-pitter-patter
Dippa-dappa-bitta-bata-boom.
The test that stumped them all,
That schooled the scholar,
Dumbfounded the demurer,
And perplexed the poet to a point of passive paramism.
For the symbols underneath the guise of the rhythmic bludgeoning
were unreachable by my stream of thought,
yet I sought them like a legendary blade
that would cast out evil,
I continued to muse, endless drivel driving my fingers,
Which seemed to do the musing in place of my mind,
I strove with an athlete’s determination
To focus my eyes between each whimsical note,
Generated by the rhythmic hammering of the wings.
A melodic tune, unwavering,
I began to comprehend it in the form of a tune,
Reigning against all distraction
Mist of bewilderment seeming to dissipate.
What I now recalled in my wake
No longer took the form of a hummingbird,
But the figure of a flawless woman .
As beautiful as any from a dominion of fantasy.
Her eyes aglow with perfect scrupulousness.
Her skin rendered with wrinkles resulted from years of wisdom,
Her honest eyes dimmed with rife aging,
Yet sparkling brighter than the physically flawless,
Yet immoral youth.
I allowed the hummingbird’s illusion to caress my mind,
I whiled away the hours,
Gaining wisdom from every silver lock of hair
Placed with great care on the sagely woman’s cap.
On a cloud, she whisked me away on a quest,
Through the first rainbow of my inner being,
Where I discovered clarity, and obtained wisdom.
Next, standing before of me,
Was the form of a child, innocence aglow,
Thought dead to the world,
A scarless soul, no need for loneliness.
Not a reason to detach from himself,
Or a need to comprehend the rhythm
Of a hummingbird’s wings,
For his perception of joy not yet begruzzled
And his vision not yet clouded by the
epishods of polluted sand from man’s pale.
He sent my mind on a journey,
Across the second rainbow of my inner-being,
Where I discovered clarity, and obtained faith.
The hummingbird then assumed a final form.
The form looked familiar to me, beyond all recognition.
I stood agaze at myself, as if a mirror had suddenly appeared in my wake.
I felt pity on the reflection, who reflected my gaze timidly,
As if I were a foreign entity.
Little words did he speak, for he was aware of naught.
Awaiting answers, a curious and sojourning heart,
Yet his spirit claimed by anguish, naivety, and doubt.
I looked at the figure who resembled myself as I was,
Yet not as I now am.
The sagely words of the old woman,
The shear innocence of the joyous child
United, forming an orthodox blade,
Its pommel was laden with jewels of wisdom.
My hand gripped its handle,
Wielding the heroic blade with avant-garde
And smiting the reflection,
The stalwart heroes’ blade piercing the reflection’s heart,
Leaving no carnage, nor excess gore, it caused me no caustic pains.
The reflection of my former self cast down, and all that remained was myself,
Standing anew, prepared to decipher what realms were yet to be discovered,
Each echo or strand of sounds now resonate in my soul with renewed sonorous vibrancy,
As if I absorbed life’s true essence.
The epiphany of peace that many will never uncover.
And all this from the man who devised daldordings, proving that some people are very dual sided.
