whatever tickles your fancy

Watch the angels behind closed eyelids;
they dance like spectrums of golden light,
beautiful in swirls of truth and mist,
mixing their way into the air, the sweetest perfume.
The fog won’t rise, m’dear, not tonight;
not when the fantasies of a thousand men must be played,
not when the dreams of a nation must be driven,
we have so much time to play, endless time!
We must drink merlot while playing the hand of death;
laughing wildly at those—those ridiculous clowns of mercy,
those fools who ponder life and droop the weary eye on drowning philosophies,
“Not I,” said the mouse.
Flip your card, ace?
Do we have a good hand, soldier?
Shall we face fate with a bold façade, or shall we wait for another drink?
Two can play this game.
With words like blades against soft skin,
the danger is so sweet, a laxative of soft emotions,
bring it on, life; we have more to spare--
we can throw Molotov cocktails and quote Shakespeare as we wait.
A whirlwind of abstract motion,
displays of frantic movements marked by white frost on the night air,
you can sing that tune, we know the name,
play the strings, they don’t break,
in a field of violets or lavenders or whatever tickles you fancy,
it doesn’t exist anyways, so who the hell cares?
It’s your life and your dream; do you want to kill yourself? Go on,
we don’t provide protection for your follies,
Go drown yourself in a lake of mystic perception,
we can all have a good laugh when the bubbles escape to the surface.

All for one and one for all, eh?

in a field of violets or lavenders or whatever tickles your fancy,

I find it ironic that you have a typo in the line used for your title

This... I didn't like this. It seemed too vague/pointless, and then at times all too straight forward. It's real philosophical, it sounds like something written in commentary of government, or war, etc. but then there is nothing beyond the words, or behind them, it only has one layer. Which is a problem because I can't really get anything from it, it leaves nothing for me to take along after I've read it. It's too one dimensional, which I find to be an odd term that I am using for poetry...

Some things were nice, like the card game metaphor, although it is cliché you did write it good, but still the poem as a whole was just too... I can't go deeper than the words and I'm not even sure what it is about. I hope this makes sense--I ramble senselessly a lot. @_@

During the card game metaphor and the last bit of the poem, the speaker has a mocking tone about them, which I love - it drives the reader to continue, and it makes the theme of the poem more noticeable.

those fools who ponder life and droop the weary eye on drowning philosophies,

But here you denounce philosophy, and then the rest of the poem is about philosophies and wasting time on them. I don't know if I'm to take the rest of the poem as sarcastic, or that you mistakenly divided the poem into two different viewpoints, which is what it seems like as of now.

I love the last line, but I agree with Claudette. The ending result is enough to grasp at the point, but a lot of the puzzle pieces, even when you see what you are saying, don't seem to fit right. Either there are too many of them, or they are vaguely related to what you are trying to say. I suggest you just revise it and try to link your ideas together. It must be hard while trying to mantain the speaker's disdain, but with some revision, this poem has great potential.

Alright. I have a tendencies to go with abstracts that dont always fit. Thanks for all your advice!

I liked the concept, but I felt a bit iffy with the structure. Maybe I can't quote on this, 'cause of my own poor poem structures but for me it didn't work and made the poem a bit of a drag to read. Also punctuation.

But, I liked the story line and have no other complaints/

Thanks Gin! <3