The machinations of life echo

in the spin and twirl

going through the motions,

thin and fine splices,

of Chaplin hanging on

trying not to end up on the floor.

The tools of the movie factory

click and hum

are then chopped and spliced

after the director says cut

and the action is supplemented.

 

Lives lived in celluloid,

dreams of reality become an eternity

never to be lost

long after the earth has forgotten

abandoning them to dust

after they have become rotten.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s