Pour me a Bowl
back into form i storm
alarmed and clutching a forward
rewards are for the moralless drones
clones of a thief quilted
warm as a mid summers lightning bolt
i felt like 5000
smoking hash in the hallways of hostels in and along the border
storm waters brought on feelings of gathered conscience
smash hammer dagger mouthed class clowns wandering
we scaled the skyscrapers with great repoire
speaking of stocks intermittently
laughing as brashly as if colorado hadn't changed my world
dark storm clouds rolling on the lush green fields
fuel simply described as human motor oil
spoiled feelings on the lightning bugs underneath the moon
the stars
cars came rushing by as conversations pursued
consumed thoughts of blank delocation
as more is perceived
less is controlled by dablooms.
swooned by the swaying of starscapes my scalp was tingled by the news
the blues seemed the only thing appropriate in the smokey dimly lit pool room,the water glistened blue
this brings me back to her eyes,the beautiful ohio mornings that smelt like nag champa and cold rain
those mornings that let me compose this for you
when the world was in fractiles
and my muse in the next room.
the reason I still do this
so it will bring me closer to whom I believe I am
manifesting a way to see clearer
and recreate those days anew
visegoth
she moves like a manta ray
swaying
crossing
making the days parade like
centuries.
her eyes are a time stretch
clutching mornings in honest retrospect
clutch word introspect
the gages are built from a cleptomaniac
stark
staggered
buildings melting realms
her scalp
smelt
of
felt
I breathe lush yellow fields for health classes
Classless.
I sat in a Denver rat trap
guarded by evil spirts and bad ju-juu,as if drugs were scarce.
Rare was it for I to smile.
Dull eyes
witch.
glisten.
The visegoth resides in valhalla
Caught up in a long nap... (an FM NR COLLAB)
in a pair of green shades,
sat a rip van winkler
wondering if happy years
were something one
would find in its sleep...
or a muscle tension, hyperactive disorder
out of bounds, rust stained and carpet munched
it felt like three junes and two suns
when he woke up to the sound of
5 guns blasting holes
in the accused.
tied to a post,
forced to make with it
and mate with the conceptualized
foreskin
of a dickless ape...
I think it was burgundy shades
the presentation was full of thoughts of escape.
lay lady lay,
lay across these big brass bergades.
stray alley cat lengths of strength
her mildness
atrocious
spell bound ways of persuading
were less then hazing
more than a cascading wall of denial.
IN his life he struggled
in my life we mugged them
switch those around and have an answer.
cancer
we coughed that up.
trackers
they followed us up.
abrupt standard address tags that hold information vital
as sonar paths rumble
her eyes keep me star spangled and
bannon.
meanwhile,
imbibed with the ressurection
of a slaven dream,
the salutations commence
and burned are the tatters of a dress
burned are the ropes that tied wrists
burned are the hours we or he can sleep
"we'll look for more shooting glances
in the night sky."
i'll hear her whisper...
"Adieu."
alors qu'elle se mourait
Nous portons cette couronne de droit
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