Seriously Absurd - Absurdly Serious

In which our hero (me) explores the meaning of life with some original writing and a few re-posts. For art related stuff go to Deep Fun

Posts tagged comic book

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my childhood (the comic book)

slick shiny cyanmagentayellow atoms

bouncing wall to wall 

filling black outlines 

balloons stuffed with words floating in the air

confident paper-thin heroes 

smilinglaughingflying heroically 

keeping watch 

as we slept tucked warmly into our childhood

we were always so good

at finding those warm tight places 

niches and nooks

our lair

the fortress sanctum 

(beneath the bed

behind the bushes inside

our mindselves)

places to hide from the shouting

the silence

the graysick tension in the air

the un-nameable knowledge

that we did not want 

Filed under poem poetry childhood comic book hiding color halftone heroes superhero growing up new poets society new poets on tumblr

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me am not ride with bizarro superman

Somewhere in mid-Pennsylvania after midnight,
I would stop trying to sleep and turn on the small round reading light above my head
to reread my comic book - Bizarro Superman!
Bizarro, clad in a brightly colored imitation of Superman’s costume, had a child’s backward logic and a syntax to match. “me am not Bizarro No. 1-Me am not alone”
In my favorite story he flew far away from earth to build a world of his own -
A square approximation of earth - that he populated with people he created  – imperfect clones of Superman’s friends.
You have to admire those kind of  problem solving skills-that sort of creativity - fashioning his own perfectly imperfect place in a universe that didn’t seem to want him in it.
Then  I would turn the light off and watch city after city of street lights and shadows
Roll through my blank reflection on the window
until an over-amplified unintelligible mumble alerted us that we would be stopping soon - (was that Filadelglia, Algluna, or Blogstown?)
We would pull into a bus station or rest stop full of light and strangers
where I would eat a piece of Boston Crème pie,
and buy another comic book.
Then Bizarro and I would get back on the bus
And head off toward our new world.

Filed under poetry comic book Joe Thompson Bus Journey Superman Bizarro