donate to ya boy

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

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

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