PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I strike faster than rapid mass transit

questing to be the last man standing

manufacturing manuscripts managing you fascist bastards

manifesting visions through this kaleidoscope

heavy thoughts colliding within these notes

sitting on idle hopes, while uncertain versions

of what lies behind the curtain

as the words murder murmurs through

the perverted chambers of the burner

I was a boy taught to become a man of intrigue, lemme keep my sanity

Till the well runs dry

For now I’ll wash and rinse the kinks

from my inner demons

let he who falls first, be one to cast a stone

to discover that he is the owner of a new glass home

my invisible tears can be…..

viewed through a telescope

as conflict and dramatic tension becomes

surreal for real

initiating fires that create a slow burn

so conflict is unavoidable

but when do I get my shine?

when most actions are tarnished

within the lines of sins I’m crossed with

should I join the ministry

where they practice, preach and impeach the hell out of me

or seek a new brand of rebellion

on the doorstep of my left aorta

where I can freely

swig back a cold one

in the corner alone with no one

who would’ve thought that the assassination of character

could strike at any time

behind the solid black door of defense……

and that door was wide open

so why fix what’s already been programmed

dated….

slated…

for release

sort of like receiving

the right kind of love from the wrong kind of bitch

time to improvise the vices

pressurizing self punishment

attaining to the one-step up swagger

cuz “Lawd knows I don’t need this shit again”

these corner pockets of my life

isn’t guaranteed to be filled completely

but I call my own shots

like billiards

then work overtime

to outmatch my last act of brilliance