This Is More Than Cloud Nine

When my spirit swallows thee
to titter round a pain,
insanity pays the fee
of cloud 12 and its pain.

Of cloud 12 and its pain
I’m its servant for free.
It’s a world in a grain
with honey like a bee.

With honey like a bee
I think I’m Superman.
Should this be a tree?
I’ll be the handyman.

I’ll be the handyman
to make both worlds align.
This high is harmattan.
It is more than cloud 9.

Rudolph Ruddapoet