I awoke into my madness
Blind, awake
Lifeless but my breath
And all around me spanned vines
Crawling amidst my thoughts
Scaling trees
Leaving me a gnarled world
As if each fruit I picked.
Dreaming as I lay awake
Of fermented terroir
Calmly settling inside the vice
A cork upon thy voice.
Can sweet time carry a vision?
Can it send me notes?
For not too soon shall I carry home
What lay me into madness.
Tag: vice
Idle Hands (day 3205)
This idleness
This treachery
This cannot happen
For is has spoken
Aloud
And worked its arms
Inside vices
Against terror
Wrapped around
Unspoken melodies
Yet it grew
Dirt pile
And grave dangers
Arose
From idle hands
At play
Upon the wheel.
Golden Drink (day 1854)
I’m running around
In cat screetching circles
Complete darkness
And two golden girls;
How do the ends come,
How do we lay down plans?
And as we watched the twilight spread
A little voice came and said:
“Let your vices go
All shall be good
And in the morning you will
Return once again to drink.”
Life That (day 1231)
This isn’t my coming out chant
This isn’t my remember the good ol’ days rap
No, this isn’t the kind of shit you’d expect from me
Where soft glow combines with a real desire
Spreading out like wings
No, this is a truth experiment
This is raw discussion
Morphine true-isms
Blisters spreading about the exposé
Peeling back: non-relent
You see, nothing’s been hard
No part of life’s been a chore
There’s never a day gone by
When I’ve been forced to stare at the walls
So uncomfortably spread that rot is my vice
There’s a dollar sign around my halo
With uncomfortable silence when bills drop on bills
There’s a memo on my desk
Reminding me to keep track of the present
This all fails to phase me
Rolling around in steel balls that shatters silently
When haters start slinging their gorilla lyrics
Hiding in my deepen’d billfold
And there’s glass, there’s glass scraping little lines
Across my weather strengthened back
Yet, I’m not your typical chump
Squealing my daddies gold in rubber exhaust
I’m a hustler crushing pimp
Not a player pickin’ easy cherries
Playing a role, playin a mother fuckin role
Buying into a toll booth
That flips my hard edge into
Magnified chocolates and fluffed pillows
And a silk god damn flower
I take opportunities in the present
The big rolls that die hard
Rise and fall, and rise again
It’s my game, I take two dollars
Exchange them into five
Because I’ve been bred well
Learned from the best
I’ve taken one-two-three strategy
Added on my own strong fourth
Funny thing about this mastery
Is the only competition I find
Comes out from where the wolves hide
From the silent arch ways
That reach out and bite when you turn your back and hide
I fight it, with intelligence…
With awareness and exposition
Omnipresence is not a myth
Omnipresence manhandles the unaware
Blissfully slouching at the solid wood table