For if I got to sail’s end
Upon the glee of life
Should shake the dust
From each thy sword
To battle, ho! Thy fun!
Not of angry blood spilled
In trod battlefield,
Nor in a race of men,
But in thy quest of spiriting
Each bone amidst my quest.
Shake me, again!
For should I not arise
To meet each day with grit,
I should sooner be trampled afoot
Each horse drawing mighty Hades
Crumpled into an unfit mess
Deserveth of lack spent.
So gracefully, then,
I grab thy sword
Clean ‘er pommel to point
Place her not to rest at bay
Amidst cocooning leather bound,
Place her strong within thy grasp
Of ambition and desire for life!
Tag: ambition
What Makes You Relate? (day 2746)
What makes you relate?
Long standing waiting lines
Clogged with consumers
Looking for sweet redemption
Sold in packaging
Undeniably destroying
Their very fortune.
What makes you relate?
Big superhighways
Circumnavigating
Exhausting into thinning air
Precious cargo.
What makes you relate?
Hand picked produce
With an extra shine
Lacking all imperfections
Of the natural world.
What makes you relate?
Running yet controlled
Exasperated for thy hurry
Speeding in urgency
Crushing in ignorance.
What makes you relate?
Stuck with every freedom
Mentally destroyed
Perceived choice
Lack of ambition
Blaming circumstance
Crippled by fear.
Soul Love (day 2707)
Let me love you like I can
Hand full on at a time
To let me find you in the sky
Driving for between your thighs
Fast is the main emotion
That hits me straight on in the heart
Where you often spend your days
Driving through my fertile soil
Let me love you like I can
For every day I lay awake
Fevering with a full desire
To hold a nightlight to your fire
With the arrow of my vision
Feel these flung straight on to you
I have but one main ambition
Baby I’m on to this fruition
This Ain’t Your Road (day 1504)
This is strength.
This is a pivotal moment of heart beats
And feet, feet, feet
Into words, hearts.
We die lesser then nothings.
Of animals of instincts,
Of wrecking, no! Smashing defenses
In an offensive!
This is pure domination
With reckless ambitions
Hurting weakness,
Hunting challenge.
Fighting all the juicy tricks
With juicy tracks
Along the road of
You ain’t ever gonna be here, sucker.
Mic check.
Ambition’s Race (day 819)
It is not I who shelter your conscience from the bitter truth of denial
It is not my sword that slays last hopes in fitful cries about bloody battle grounds
It is not my spells which sheath truth to avoid speaking amongst those who whisper wrongs by name
Nor is it the timbstrels who dance around the spoils of victory
That shake the knees of that noble fervor so deeply rooted in passions teeth
It is the lofty words of treachery and treason that curse the steeds of ambition’s race
Old English Accent (day 782)
It wasn’t too long ago that I
Wandering through fields waist high
Came upon one friendly blade of grass
That spoke to me in old English decree
Thus like:
Forsooth it is thy jolly Lombard
Erect in flight of recent folly
That doth not retire grand ambition
That doth not spare no damsel plight
Amongst thy gallows of conquered fate
Whence settling down amongst thou bromus
He contemplates his recent fight
And not one hour should pass thy penance
When thou stumblt upon a gift that gave
So lovely displayed be suit noble court
Of kindly and jolly King Edward the IV.
And in this gift so deep a sentiment
Earl Warwick, himself! ere be knelt
The gift to seekers shall be found
Not in man’s work but in mankind
Thou gift is also found upon
Thy brow of revelations crown
And to this joy that I’d now found
While wandering to and then to fro
Reciting, by name, the grass that grew
Here I would learn to love anew
Fallen (day 237)
Splay the strewn corpses
Lightly across the virgin sands of time
Let their obscene gestures
Recklessly fall deep beneath the soil
Rotting amongst their own ambitions
Long since fallen
Long since dressed in stripes
Awaiting the sentence
