Makin Rhyme (day 814)

Shake my sugar
My gloved thing
In moonlight
It’s a good thing
It’s been alright
Oh my dear thing

Cause it’s a 1-2-3
Hippity
Hippity
Hippity
Hop
Shake it down some
Make rhythm

Run

Baby you’re all fine
Sugar and rhyme
You pull roses from hearts crest
You pull angels from heavens nest
Your big bad ways unknown to man
You drag hearts round
You make loud sound

You’ve heard words
That ain’t mine
You lift pity hurts
Until blind bursts shatter loudly
You’ve pushed bad songs
Until rhythm equals dirt
Slung guns with the bad crew
And left daddy with a wide grin

Been there, you know
I’ve hustled in bad times
When there ain’t a living
You’ve got nothing baby
Like it ain’t hurt
You ain’t nothing baby
Like it ain’t hurt

Truth is
It’s a good thing
Prophecy will manifest
Like good goblins
In the blackness
Or Michael Jackson
And a leather vest
It ain’t lies
It’s like a holocaust
Evil gone
And the good all left
Broken gods
Relaxing on the river’s edge

It’s alright
I’m a gentle touch
I’ve got it down
Sugar and sweet
I’m a gentle touch
You know baby
I’m a gentle touch

Now no break
Can penetrate
Can permeate
This fine skin
Traumatize
Through these eyes
Cause you’re a bad seed
Through these eyes
You’re never wrong

Flow Within (day 590)

If I move aside
Will love swarm in
If I pull outwards
Will it flow within

Dangling roses in front of my nose
I stroke the wild beast with sharpened fangs
Laying beside heavens that rumble with rage
I watch the sunsets roll on in

In this space, it is whole
It is dark corners with sweet soul sounds
And polka dots that swell with pride
Slumbering around in a flowy night-robe

The Heavens (day 195)

This journey has been tortured and turned with the omnipresent glare of the eagle
The desires of conquest have been hindered by the scorn of angels
The love has never been spared by cupid, nor by a hungry lover’s eyes
Yet the gears still turn, the ride still rolls

This ascent has been beaten with brutality of breath
Baited with the promise of one pure and descending glance towards the worlds we’ve passed through
A view from the heavens, a wonderfully epic moment of hysteria
As the clouds below part and clarity is felt like the needle sinking in

Mother, won’t you cry with me, die with me
As the young ladies last romance curled its gnarly fingers around the seeping demise
Withered air collapsing into the cruel hands of zero gravity
Mother, won’t you cry with me? Die with me.