im Stacking Chance and Optimism in the Bottled Prism of Gluttony
the Modern Day Jack of all Trades, w. a money hungry philosophy.
Doctoring false Prescriptions, my Voice Listens to Tongue in Cheek
Road ahead is Long and Bleek, paved w. pebbled wrong we Speak.
Unsung, I bleed the multi coloured, loveless, Logic into A Cartridge,
Presenting Topics to the Lethargic, with a Twisted Ligament Tardis.
Am I an imprisoned artist? Or merely an Imaginative Pencil Sketch,
Sent to Stand Beside the Planned Demise of the lust Devils Repent?
Heaven Sent on Levels Meant For Rusted Halo’s and Golden Wings,
So I sit with Folded Sling, waitin to throw Rocks at the Boulder King.
Focusing on the Ember Star Night, captured in the Car Lights Vision
Futuristic voyeur, im mother nature with a webcam, Inside Prisoned
Rib Cage holding back my thoughts, rough course Traveling Project,
Isolated by the Face in the Crowd, Pacing Around mandarin sonnets.
Stretched wingspan of the Honest, archived Goblet natures crusader,
Pen to Paper spent creator w. imagery lost on the cross of my blazer.
Each days an Up Hill struggle, For the Old Horse and Cart Generation
Starting a Chain Link in Animosity with Velocity i paced the Games Vacation
Consult Later, Live for the Moment you’ll never Grasp within ya Reach
As you Five Minutes Of fame corrode, slowly drowned by Win Streaks
Wind Speaks, through the eye of the storm, its broken body language,
Fire’s second son, the next in line to throne, prone to Godly Challenge.

Kissed by the suns caressing lips, & swiftly I drift toward,
Warmth, Held as Syllables Swarm into my Physical Form.
Miracles torn from my embodiment in Sodomy’s Ancestor,
Mind’s Hollow Refined Sectors, Following Time protectors. .

History’s journal re-wrote, a blatant mistake, made tha Vacant n Fake,
a stage in Memphire forced the age of the empires, to display distaste.
Rampant greats Made faded warriors, slave products, a ball and chain,
Jurassic metric system, universally spoken wisdom, now Called in Vain.
Maulled and Maimed, girating circle, savin circle of slowness post Hook,
Mind full of more vivid imagery than Lingers in a Finger Poets notebook.

Kissed by the suns caressing lips, & swiftly I drift toward,
Warmth, Held as Syllables Swarm into my Physical Form.
Miracles torn from my embodiment in Sodomy’s Ancestor,
Mind’s Hollow Refined Sectors, Following Time protectors. .


Take My Hand, Embrace The Poetry.

__________________
W o r d P e r f e c t