The Purple Room

 

In the city of industry, land of no sleep

New Amsterdam bustles with insomniacs. Deep

Skyscrapers yield recesses in the southern west side

where the village people abound and gaily reside,

where the buttery cupcakes that bare the beetle blossoms name,

Magnolia, sweet ambrosia increased confectionary fame,

are heaped up with icing of various hues and sprinkled.

Children laugh and frolic nearby and know the good news. Wrinkled

off grid streets force the urban framework to appear weaker.

Lo, a hamlet on the Hudson River! Welcomes amidst the bleaker

rigidity are scarce but can be quickened by weather. Shop keepers beg stays,

alternating heat or cool air, depending on the conditioning for the days.

The stylish window shop there, gawking, and the trendy take flight

replaced by the men-women, walking, looking lonely at night.

Overhead there is a magical and more majestic place, Happiness’ womb

home of Enlightenment known by the amused over lookers as The Purple Room.

There distanced above the maddening, all-consuming throngs

is the haven for the hip: the righter of all the World’s wrongs.

The pet dragon Fun waits, amethyst aura emanating from above

creating clouds, surrounding structures, inhaled by inhabitants with love.

Breathing fire in the coolest water and the heir apparent is the air

Sequestered from the public prying eyes astonishing all who would stare.

Laws of nature and man are bent and then broken piece meal

and by royal decree there is no such thing as real.

The careful, divine queen reigns sovereign over voluntary subjects

exerting her detailed will in absentia over the auxiliary annex.

Fair Lysa, daughter of The World, wise counselor and healer

even, warm, and beautiful, mystical, feelings feeler.

Traveler of distant lands. Living patron of the very cool

Collector and protector of fine souls doles out her lavender rule:

Take care in the quality of life and have the courage to face impending doom

Rejuvenate, recharge and replenish everything before you leave The Purple Room

Safety, thou art elusive but in her kingdom She does reside

in the heart of the dangerous capital the blessed travelers have a guide.

How complex to be gorgeous yet immersed in the metropolis grime?

Watch the six foot fairy, flowing glowing golden hair, figuratively making time

flying from the great Sandwich Islands. Stunning perfection is the superior pixie’s loom

and she is spinning split-second snapshots into illustrated years in The Purple Room.

How multifarious man can walk on water and transition from on the sand?

Peep the surf performer, sliding and gliding, best ever in any land

partying hard with great endurance choking out all of his gloom.

For him there is no such sadness or too great a love lost when in The Purple Room.

The amenities are plentiful, circumscribed by imagination and not wealth,

But not everything that passes through the black door is entirely for health

The delivery gnomes are steadfast stewards and they sing hallucination,

mauve hooded elves marching upward offering the joyous incantation:

Good, great Guinness!

Saint James’ gate in us,

unseal the Maker’s Mark

kindred spirits. Hark!

Liquor is proof. Candies

for life entitled dandies.

More sake,

Murasaki!

More sake,

Murasaki!

Indulgences fine mottos

for flower aficionados

pungent leaves herbaceously

climbing higher racemosely

spiraled tight skyward run

helically towards the helium sun

Wafting Wisteria in full bloom!

Escapism, from Reality’s tomb!

Wafting Wisteria in full bloom!

Escapism, from Reality’s tomb!

Food and spices at your beck and call, entertainment all about

would surely entice anyone. Can connoisseurs make deliverance without?

Music drives the waking day through the exploratory time at twilight

when the visitors milling like aimless ants between stay or go, the highlight

for heliotrope residents is the disco nap, null transportation. Midnight is never too late

to be awakened by little chocolate doughnuts, filamentation, in a relaxed, energetic state.

The bass beats electromagnetic currency and the speakers frequently bump

filling the compartment and penetrating causing excited electrons to jump.

Orbital power intensified, wide-eyed enthusiasm to belie lackluster dancing

designed ion imbibed intoxicants. Mind controlling the senses all the while enhancing

the sixth chakra coupled with lowered inhibitions so people manifest to fruition:

Four hundred and twenty nanometers speed of frequency, raised our intuition.

If we are the sum of our actions, merely a collection of occupations,

then what of Belief’s tractions? What bounded faith negates intimations?

What wave length added Omniscient scrutiny in the here and now,

and won laurel wreath woven at the very end, a crowning bough?

Nay nymphs may play and seduce you from the window, at first glance

all is finery until proximity gleaned the cupcake spell a trance.

None are perfect optically but the whole spectrum is in us all

if we could only imagine that through the enchantment we gain the gall.

The third eye gazes where the wind may go. It never phases or blinks with waking doses.

The dark night is concentrated color, indigo ink. Our invisible light spreads our gnosis.

We return when the acceptance is amplified, the pure prism projects a periwinkle clue.

Nocturnal nourishment is happy prison, like a dream, a harbinger of our substantive hue.

Our sorcery is shaded like the center of the bright and shining male peacock’s plume

and the truth is based in iridescence, changed angles, just like The Purple Room.

 

by D.I.Cooper

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