GUEST POST // Rats with Wings by Field of thorns

My apologies to you, for I stole you away
In the dead of the night, whilst you did slumber
In a semiconscious state
I stole you away, in the dead of the night
In the cloak of the rain, and of the thunder
We made our escape, is it any wonder?
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
I know I took you without your permission
But, I saw how you were looking at me.

Do not be alarmed, you are my very last part, last part
Last part, of my precious machine
My precious thought machine
A machine made just for two
Where you can be me, and I can be you
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

Close your eyes and let my thoughts in
And a new beginning, will begin, and begin
Don’t be afraid, like the others before
I have given you the key to my heart, my heart
I saw how you were looking at me
And I too was looking at you
You are the very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

We have arrive at the shore, the beautiful shore
Where things are pretty and dreamy once more
Pungent smell of camphor wafts through the house
Covering the fragrance of death and decay
Here, we are alone at the shore, just you and I
Where you can be me, and I can be you
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
In this lovely house for two
My lovely precious thought machine
A machine made just for two.

Please do not think of escape
No crying, scratching, screaming or such
There is nowhere to run, and no way out
I’ve locked all the windows, and all the doors
Of my precious thought machine, my machine by the shore
Let us sit quietly enjoying each other’s thoughts
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

The gulls in a frenzy upon my return to the shore
How they scream, how they squawk
Louder than the waves knocking upon the door
Who knew my gulls were of the carnivorous sort
How lucky for me, my rats with wings, how they eat, how the eat
They love me and the extra parts that I bring
What they leave behind, sinks to the bottom of the ocean deep
Where things are pretty and dreamy once more.

In time, I know you’ll find I’m perfect for you
In our magic precious thought machine for two
Where you can be me, and I can be you
Just follow my lead and all will be true
I saw how you looked at me, and I too was looking at you
I know I took you without your permission
But, I saw how you were looking at me
In exchange for your thoughts, I give you my heart
You are my very last part, holding the key
The key to the heart, of my precious thought machine.

 

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2015

15 thoughts on “GUEST POST // Rats with Wings by Field of thorns

  1. My Dearest Hatter, WOW! Thank you so much. I’m tempted to comment in Russian, but I will do so in English, so that anyone reading your comments can understand what I am saying. This is an old and odd work, and one of my favorites, because of what the content holds. I don’t know if everyone will read it the same way, but it’s actually a love story. I think or I hope to think that we all look for someone that will love us for our minds, but does this happen as often as it should? Thank you again, you have certainly made my Saturday! 🙂

    Yours,
    Alice ♥

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’m happy… to make your Saturdays, Sundays, every fucking day ❤
      One of your favorites… yes. It's felt.
      That's why I found it. I went like a dog… the smell of love.
      It doesn't fade. It sounds even through thick layers of new posts.

      Your Hatter

      Liked by 2 people

    • Oh, you bring a smile to my face! You have me laughing, “every fucking day”. YES, to that! I’m glad that you found it, as I mentioned I’m very fond of it, and pleased that you felt it worthy!

      Your Alice ♥

      Liked by 2 people

  2. I have just read this aloud to Christine – the rhythm is hypnotic, the beat of the heart, the pulse of the brain. I am not sure why but I hear J G Ballard beneath the staves. Brilliant.

    Liked by 4 people

    • ‘Art is the principal way in which the human mind has tried to remake the world in a way that makes sense’
      © J. G. Ballard

      Thank you, Mark ❤
      Hallelujah, Peppa!

      I feel like a diver. Well… not in vain I've learnt pranayamas…
      I can dive deep… deep… more deeply… and find a real pearl!
      (Am I not so modest, yes?) 😉

      Liked by 2 people

    • ‘I felt the pressure of imagination against the doors of my mind was so great they were going to burst’ – J G Ballard.
      And that is what creates pearls – keep diving for them.

      Liked by 2 people

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