Not to be dumb.

The early light of dawn,  just broke the clouds and I awaken
I envisage the drips on dreams, to perspire on a sunrise. I'm shaking
In weekend passage. Natures mother massaging an ego of I am the lord
Yet the veins are flowing with hurt and love on a sweet drip of life and chords

Playing on a bass a state a reason why I committed the treason that sent daddy to the hangman
Because I was a loyal, institunialised, duck and dived , sheriff , law silver star lawman.
Turned in my papa, he gunned that woman down and will spend those days in cells
The noose will end the giver the provider of life for me , my conscience? I lived, I hate myself.

But he crossed the lines. And I'm sorry daddy. I know you'll plauge my dreams
As the snap of the neck causes mr respect. The bulging eyes popped in a peppermint scream
Harsh against my own theist of anticipation, bastardised. This whole scenario makes me pretty ugly
Dad?
Daddy?
I apologise for finding you out. I guess you taught me well. In the underlying poverty
The force of rebellion in a destructive silver star, you were the first to invite me
To the party.

Dressed like the clown
One last breath on the noose I drown
With you. But you murdered my mum
And I celebrate your demise daddy. You taught me.
Not to be dumb.

Poet puppet a poet a realm.

I've been a puppet a poet a pal a realm of dimensions
A part of a billion situationist. A posistion a of beggars that breath
And yet, the Parisian ambush in the heart of walkways
In my heart. In my blood vessel of dalliance in dispairing.

Red sails on sunsets. Hives if bumblebees cried amongst tbe cells of
Honey  you struggle don't you, the posistion of just you and I. The
Because and confusing of depth and super confusion.
If you go away. To the tundras. To the trees, to the forest of enyd blytons
Tree of delusion

The folk of the far away
Tree of bark on
My son and permission. I'm here. I'll never let you
This puppet , the poet? The sadness the trial.
 I'm a trial a tribulation a cope of then
I'm continuing I'm trying I really am. a

The rich

Done. The breath you breathe to me
A lover setting free
You never knew entanglement, he thought of  a billion sentiment
I cried every version, the persuasive, the caustic, ice cream dark chocolate and mint

I scream in a migraine over complicating on the abbacus of a Greek calculation
It's the situation, the complete
Fabrication of the  truth the absolute, your Just a Pygmy of a vessel in the blood
Driven eye. I play eye spy. I caved into the realms of multi dimensions do, did, could.


You  are the ephinony of a Parisian light bulb
In a flat above a
Treble
Tribulations? Floors and scores of I hate you I really hate the reasons
You produced the double
The anger. The stranger. You the ephinony. Of a Venetian light
Bulb in a trip of electricity trouble.  I saw beyond the realms of futuristic box and fight and  flight

The very epitome. You then the
Strength beyond my muscle
I hate you, you son of a bitch
The hatred
Of my birth to that last man standing of gold mans standing
Amongst the
Wealth
The rich

Brain matters

All for one and one for natures law
Hanging by a branch the negro slave accused of the eye of the crow
That he succumbed , on art splatters brain matters
Black man. Haunting, the bodies of his ghost just got embellished and fatter.

A soul of deceased trouble? A part of necks tangled in rope
Dope, a reason of treason against the government. The sentiment of the reason why he coped
Intrinsic why his mother cried , against a sun set into it's not my fault it's the white mans anger
Snow on the iceberg, shouting like a fucker. I never realised the hatred from the whiteness of danger

Of sentiment, twist and be a part of the ambience, lighting the edge of ghetto cave
I'm sorry for my daddies twosome, the resentment of I did, I had, I want and I have.
You made me
Into what I became, I'm going to get all Shakespearean
Cream on strawberries but I shouldn't be a part of the spoil. L
Reason,
I'm giving in
Me and you
It's a mythanopic catastrophic reason and I want. I always need
There's a better conclusion. The reason seldom feeds.

between the heart of dark and blackness

There's an unfortunate moment during the step torn passage between the heart of dark and blackness
A caustic iron exhaust ing back fire on a BBQ grilling in the FBI interrogation subtleness
I caved like a bosom filtering milk to the newborn baby , scratched like a foot. against Momas nipple
Creased like the wave crashing on the surf tides crippled ripple.

Their was a she spent time into the creativity of this depth and for gone a rhyme
A misprint on the head of a typing error, an eye over,  applying the mascara of hell bent to the crime
I regret my fortitude the attitude the substitute the cute partner of the grenade
The serenade of a saxophone and a string of guitars , visiting , of my mind standing, and acting on this very staged display.

The cherry breath I taste whenever I ignite a cigarette , the taste of life
No matter the brain, splatter, on the car window, so slow, in intrinsic poetry, a look at dreams and strife
The left of all that matters
Of sinew and haterd, the spasticsted spasms of a man down but not out.

The trial every evening I experienced before the fire logged in timber
The thoughts I crave, the reason I try to remember
But I'm afraid the senility had over loaded the senses , the apprehension
I'm a shadow of myself now the fog has defended upon the lacking of my decision

And into the naked light I saw, amongst the world in which I disappear
This extinguished
Illuminated anguish, a told you so, a clue that you never knew
And all I am, is this
A remembrance of solitude between the heart of dark and blackness.

free style. I never read this before posting.

No one will ever, tell me how to live my life because it's a chapter, bookmarked, ready for
When, you pick up the next sentence, two years after you read the first leather bound
Hard backed saddle screwing with your spine, it's intertwined with a text, a fuck the caustic leather
You don't offer a single dime to me or to the categorically thought process of the grey mind.
Who the fuck do you think you are, your an autumn reason, a life of the varicose leaves browned
By the seasons stress and the scar. The reticent thought process, in which I feel so like the king crowned , in the streets of a parliament , sent into A  plus B equals a lifetime of dubious frowns.
Etched like the son of a bitch that always makes into the recurring, slurring words of a drunk subway
Homeless sleeping bag dwelling, head swelling after being hit by the umbrella fella, who struck in the temple of your head, not the temple of the dead.
There's a fucking situation going on here,  a queer partisan , partying into the depths of insecurity
A real cutie pie, calved into half, like the mother cow who demands that now, is the reason that it's all a part of how.
You're a beast roaming, a storming part of the thunder cloud, a whimsical tornado destroying the farm
The houses blasted into oblivion, you're just a civilian, a passerby, a pedestrian sucking in the air provided for the only lungs Mother Nature knows
I could slow,
This entire shit down, but I'm afraid this first try at freestyle poetry begs me to post
At the most I'll bow out.
I'm a chore master
I'm an eighties boom box blaster
Take it in my will, my sentiment of clarity so stark
And we are all a passage, a sentence, a simple bookmark

Yorkshire man.

I'm a Yorkshire man, proud and quite in a crowd of unceasingly unbelievable silence
I'm the steel factory chimney pouring smoke into the dawns early air, choking, I'm a matter,  an interference
Grandads inheritance of a pocket watch, medals from the ww2 service, never knew what by which he gained them
Was he a brave man with a rifle in hand , was he the petal of crazy standing tall above the stem

Distilled grilled and puff like the dragon of a smoking , cheering crowd of nazi behemoth
Just like me, fading into the background, a sinkhole of obscurity, cut from the very same cloth.
Don't even know which continent he served in, Asia, Europe, a travelling bulett gypsy with no recognition
From the survivors, I fucking exist because of his efforts, his trials and tribulations.

Guilty, ghosts of intrinsic soap suds flowing over my naked and guilty your honour mind
The hurricane, instability of the diagnosed insane, try to be better than the insecure obscured, I can't grasp the intestines of that stomach connected double downed and blind
Through trenches of apprehensions. Am I crazy because of what he did, the composer of aggression
Yet the wizard of sympathy and kind.
It's a maze of thoughts. A bastion i will never scale. I can see the end in hope although I'm clearly blind.

There's a multiplication drumming inside my complicated mind
A need to cling onto a rock face, dazed and wonderment we find
Grandad plages the cells he may have spent time in, thinking he had to get home for the sake of future child
To touch the face of my grandmas cheeks, rough, rouge, he cools the heat reduces the hot to a tepid mild.

All I know is he came home. He found his girl and he reproduced the character of the man you see today.
Took it on the chin, head spin and carried on. Every day I dalliance with the creator of hell, yet I never remember how he created the pottery wheel that moulded the clay
Of my brainchild, that's hidden from today's society, I'm in the trench hole with him eighty years ago on my birthday plan
He stood, understood, created, survived, in his blood, a proud reason, a Yorkshire man.

the dawn

Cello, like a intrinsic surgery and I'm delving into cells, matter, grey, discoloured
Water drowning ducts of tears, I miss her touch, her caress, the lips we both discovered
Amongst ancient maps, gnarled in yellow tears craving the history
Of a lover,  of why we seperated,  why the realms of tomorrow, dictate the eyes of all we see.

The mighty trunk of an oak that no longer sways amongst the siblings of acorns
The bullies that applied the hate and scorn and the victimisation of shoulders wilted forlorn
Attributes of a thousand years, into a whisper, a way to prove that humanity is a part of you
Never surrender the hope of tomorrow, you have to stand true,amongst a lie of sunrises dew.

And there we accept, the glistening of the silver spiders web.
She will entice you in the midnights blue hurt that you've felt since you realised dread
Even the beautiful of crevasses, features, can exist in a cavern that you thought was a scar
Take a step back my love, remember who and if you become and dance in what we are.

Caterpillar
Time traveller
Change of you will be.
We are not a push over
We are not the victim
We are the spine. The back of going forward
We are the meat against the bones
The insteinc part of marrow
We are the beggining of our yesterdays
We are the dawn of all tomorrows.

And never let the thought become, the meaning of the end
For you will always be my soul.
And why I write my solemn sacred friend.

BANG

Every whisky and dry I down , I take on the whole world
Might sound absurd to you my straight laced friend
But insecurity blends in the barrel of my thoughts, toes curled
It is the sunrise of the beginning, it's the selfish self consuming noose of end.

There's a fucking havoc hammock swaying, amongst the coconut trees
A bastardised self scented reason , on a psychological cerebral, sir let me persist
Please, don't fuck this up for me, strength in numbness, set this slave free
I have to carry the basket of life inside of my mind in order to exist.

It's a mountain of fortitude, a sunrise of self analysing internal clock telling the wrong time
Wholly shit brother, there's got to be a better horse to back than this
The answer of the corterised veins and cells that my subconscious trauma nurse did find
I'm laughing like a gigelo in the delicious realm of babies nappy rash hurt and scratching bliss.

Contradict me! I dare you. There's a million other cell based thinkers just like I am
A billion apologetic, static eggs just waiting to hatch from the embryo
You made me draw the droplets on a rock face that's entombed so I can no longer give a damn
Land on the hotel in the Mayfair square, money pouring in but do not pass go.

Slide, like the avalanche, in the Swiss side mountain of cheese thats a billion equation distraction
She never fucking loved you, she was meant as a confusion, until you figured this out
Delve as deep as you want, the pit is a plaster on the wound of a passion
The teapot bowing, pouring emotions, from the Lid of life until the embers of the spout.

Every whisky and dry I down, you ridicule every part of what I am
I'm the courtisan to every situation you provided, a supplement a fucking bookmark
The comic book character. Big a boom and the intrinsically, incinerated, BANG
Goodnight my petal, Bon nuit my amour, the words splutter, on splinters stark.

Normal

Do you want to know what normal is? It's the journey into insanity

It's the same path everyone of us takes. There ain't no such thing as normal profanity 

You live in a dream, a fucking stream , flowing through these caverns extreme

Never know it, the grand mama dreams , of a double knit  crocheted, scream. 

The sunrise its a surprise, dawning,  in a false horizon that we all fight against 

You, the ridicule, you're the reason Picasso did paint

And me? Let me let you into a rabbit hole surprise. Wide fucking eyes 

Displayed lids ripped open, out spoken, denied the quenching blink defied. 

I never inherited a will of power, I never saw the minute ticking hour

The sunset skipped by me one morning, the taste of a monster, the holding of power 

You're still stagnant amongst the preachers congregation, you can't fit amongst the situation

All we needed was an injection of tabloid, a newspaper headline, of harbour and back off patience

The meaning of life is fucking simple to me

It's the purist thoughts amongst a complicated rubicks cube that'll allow you to be free 

Casual love in the nineteen fifties drive through thought movie

Popcorn scorn because of the forlorn, the end of a rag tag hide and seek.  

I'm going to have to interrupt you Mr Thought Pattern , you seem to be playing on my mind

You're fucking with my brain cells of bars l can't put a dollar on the roulette of the find

Me later, uneducated, switch amongst the shit given, unforgiving, coffin amongst eastwoods drive 

Insanity, a gun , aloof, easy to draw, sketch, honey sweet mind amongst the hexagonal mind hive. 

Do you want to know what normal is? It's the illusion the final conclusion 

Your mommy and daddy aren't going to save you sugar, it's a world of confusion 

There's a book mark you have to place , the end of the story

Better off upended, trying for glory. 

Cerebral suture.

His awe, the awakening of a mind, long since dead
Fed,  through the needle of a camels piss, shift , onto the other side of the bed
Except,  it's only you, no one to climb over, just the shadow you chase
Through the night, like the brazen dark of loneliness that you've learned to embrace.

In the morning you open the curtains of your mind with no one to share your thoughts
You've fought every demon with a lightning sword against a Stella nurseries throat
Choked, the jugular of your inner self, screaming that you, mother fucker are ugly
Never end up as a sitter for a portrait, no oil painting, the exams not an A it's a minus B.

Yet even the dark side of your brain, entangled in a disturbing vision of a childless future
Comprehends the power of friends embracing, cross out the scars of the teenage triage suture
Stitch of time , in an operation named, save me from insanity, this is the home of  the brave
Like geronimo, or a contemplative warrior sitting bull, shit, there's a way to lose and a way to save.

Yourself. It's all about you, it has to be, there ain't no one else going to quell the negativity
So you either do or you die. You either move forward or put the stick in reverse, makes sense to me
Quit, go on I fucking dare you, are you that confident that the end is better than a new beginning
That the eternal darkness of self pity is the king over the lightness, deeds of love over noises shinning
Down the fibres and nerves in the inside of your brain.
You're asking too many Qs with too many answers, the brains a fucking muscle, tense too long drives you insane. Relax like frankie told you too, hug the cells, hexagonal honey to lubricate the hive.

You're not the elephant man in a rag wrapped face
You're the instrinsic part of so many lives, you are the prevention mace
Ain't no one got a patch on you son, you can take the world by storm
Just accept there's no such realm as perfection, no bastard planet norm.

Turn down the volume, the belief in yourself is the key, to the heavy duty lock
The winding of the spiral cogs, the red faced hellish apparition of the face of your clock
Climb over, accept you ain't that ugly mother fucker
The teenage scars have been fixed, through positive cerebral suture.

after thoughts

The mountain lion frowned , in that downward sound , only he recognised
His queen was a dissapearence, a ghost,  on the shadow of the ice rock and roll, the blind
Where should he have gone? from here on in? The lodge of desperation, the ward of his torment
A figment,  of his imagination, resolving his cubs past and present,

Carnivore on the wings,  of a vultures claws, grasping through the lungs of the aftermath of his life
Even, embedded, shredded,  amongst a landscape of Monet blue and untoward strife
Who are you my embittered beast? A land of yeast or a sky of claws
The troll of caves, or the cloud of yours

An italic calligraphy of ink and a link into the background of  hurt, the princess or the prince
A mountain lion,spine so strong, the story must continue, the sideward eyes that glimpse
Who am I to question, the megalith of stone and marble etchings, the fetching of water the quenching of the drought
There is no answer to the equation,? The mammal, bird, nor resolute, drown amongst the growl or the cry of those that need the out.

The prophet must continue, the poem must progress
A movement of the sunrise, in which they must digress
In time stitch alterations, where the seam of life was pulled
The fabricated passions, in beast and bird instilled

The minds of all our children
A collapse intrinsic notes
Never let them conquer
The ones, and after thoughts

The bull

The bull browsed the green of fields, of silence
Of heightened awareness, the following of others ignorance
He played poker on the hoof, stayed aloof, cried on que
Danced in the puddle, in the middle, wearing a tuxedo, black tie and suit of blue.

The bull,   didn't know the difference, his hay said hey and his thoughts cried for horns
As big as the back of his neck. Yet he stood all alone, while his siblings giggled with scorn
At the tiny protruding, the absolutely, field, in which he cried all alone
And then he made a decision, he'd cut the grass, he'd swipe the flies, he'd never be over thrown

The bull, he would take control of the pride , within him, and the part of his destiny
He'd build his habitat amongst the fields and habitat amongst the machine gun fire and the ratatat
Don't you see, the bull shit a pie inside his newest creation he called
Government amongst his conquests, he was the strongest amongst the hurd, he'd die before he'd fall.

The bull, the mighty beast. The presidential, no longer the inconsequential
King of his empire. Horns protruding. Absolouting. Something Royal, someone special
He bacame the beauty of that green of fields, his tuxedo black tie and blue
Just embrace the story we've tried to tell, the bulls in the each of you.

A clasp of the forcep

Running into the best of a drumming heart vessels
Of crashed sails the
Drowning of hurt
The English wind and gales of countryside robins crying
For bread. For laughter,  for entanglement of councils amongst red robin breaststroke
Breath of breasts
Sanctuary in the sky blue of autumn
Shedding the grass snake DNA
A love letter straight from the Piscataway
The boat of caution
An abortion of snowdrops and frost driven nights
Of freezing ice burg toes and living after throes
She danced and lived amongst finger nails blue
I'm just in hatred, I'm poor and inept
But at least I'm original , at least I'm
A concept. A harbour against
The for against the clasp of a forcep.

collapsed

I must sleep now
Before the hangmans noose collapsed
Upon the jugular
Of my throats and coat
This tuxedo
Of a bow tie neck
In an intrinsic
Back hurt
I can't share with my friend
I'm all alone
I've never been the beginning
Nor the end
The trimester of the semester
In terms
Try
Me a river, shiver on electronic strings
And whatever that may bring
White water rapid
Paddles, snapped in white waves
Brains concaved
Nor the end
My habitual
Heroine,  of the French resistance
Joan of ark the stark, realisation
Of the coffee morning
Upon the dawning
Of life's triggered traps
Before the hangmans noose
Collapsed

beauty and ugly

try.
Into the cell wall of beauty and ugly,
Of hatred and fairy skin that we both wore
Like a second within, a minute, taken hours
Collapsing in hate, shedding the weight, of scales,
To a core, to an astronomical observatory
That only the engaged can see
We danced.
Entranced in hynopsis
Mesmerised my love
Dissolved,
On an oak tree, branch, on leaves of autumn rare
Colours on a horses back, I saddle
Amongst raw leathers smile
Intrigued and beguiled
In wonderment,
Of orange hues
And sentences, discontinued
Before, the electric chair
The ponderous rape of hate and despair
I'm just a no one, the flutter of a passing moth wings
Varicose vein
Class me as insane
Yet never to my face
The embrace
Try
One more passing
Before it's too eventual
For you and me.
Draw to a conclusion
Of a Sunday nights horror show
I'll be drunk on a Monday morning
My cheeks all a glow
Try
Me one more time
I'm the ignition
The posistion of resistance
We danced.
Oh how we danced
In the cell walls
Of beauty
Hypnosis

The Shakespeare of the crude and the crass

I crawled, on hands and knees, on shattered glass and wood chipping shavings
The pine needles stabbed into my inner arms veins, pronounces of pricks and misbehaving
Heart of mussels pounding within the shoreline bound, the crying, dreams in Parisian bars
Cocktails toasted amongst straws of hay, through the sipping lips , the freaks in the circus of the bizarre.

Then, in a Grimm story, the wolf danced on the memory , of the hood in red of the riding
A piano shadow, so illicit, so flaccid of the brain ordered to relax, in case of the mother threatening a hiding.
So painful princess. So raped , so inebriated, do suffice as to suffocate
In the forest of my uncle, the carbuncle of the foot of strife, I never told, in order for my mother to appreciate.

My beauty, my absolutely, my French connection I'm the red flag of a ruined dune of sand easing onto shore
Part of the plan. Sparer of Devils, on black and white vortex, corroding on pipes of peace folklore
She lead me through tunnels of darkness and savvy trials of heartless and memories relaxed in denials
Kick up the feathers in the desert of dust, in the wonderlust, the blunderbuss , shrapnel of truth and trials

Come at me sugar tits, tempting me into the hive so I know where I belong,
I'll tell you where, I'll always
be a part of the lyrics, a jigsaw piece, relaxed, peace, of zen the song
Chances amongst dancers
Parisian bars. That is where my mother left me, that's why my love I'm so fucked up
The reason I can't marry you, it's the abondenent issue, pass me the fucking tissue

Of inconsolable
Pricks of misbehaving
There was no point in grasps amongst shattered glass
For I am the Shakespeare's of the crude and and the crass.

sharks teeth

Twenty dollars left
In the right pocket dressed,  waistcoat
The final inheritance, of my child's father street hustler
Intrinsic heart stamper , claw finder, grabber of his mothers throat.

Swags of treasure distributed in the old ghetto
From the wallet of the wealthy, the ivory rhino black and blue
You didn't see me whispering amongst autumns leaves
Precious, like the hanged man , on the spiders web , during the morning dew

I did it all for you son, created a world of embarrassment, intrinsically caught in a clockwork
The part of an apparition see through, lopped off head, beggers permission
I cried a trillion times for what I did, but accept what I am child
I'm a cause, I'm the beginning , I'm the end, the stand up, in court an admission.

So trapped inside the sharks teeth, a cocktail stick digging out the decaying fish meat
I deserve a  ghetto swerve of justice, gallows of pines on trees intertwined
A sunset caught the branches, the veins of the mighty oak barking like a dog
No where else to seek, no one else to find

I slept.

I slept, on logs of the finest wood, backbreaking, yet the tired bones snapped of reason
Spines languishing , amongst the purity of an afterthought, a billion dollar sky of blue
I never hated my mother,
 yet my father was the different reason, my anticipation dies
There's a municipality that howls towards the moon, my hurt within this evening ,
Papa was the reason, papa cooked my meat of a desperate stew.

I slept in dreams, that had abondened the thoughts of process, regress, amongst hypnotised fields
Of dew, on corns scarecrows cry, in the battle shocks electric lightening
Frightening
against the protest, that my head did shatter, the matter, of tomorrow's cells walls
Against the cheapest motels bourbon, disturbing,
Hightening
Waterfall.

I slept. Yet, the regret I tried so very hard to forget,  the beatings, the hellish lies
The rouge on cheeks, the mother so meek, she allowed all the pain
To happen in a fashion, of shadow ballerinas, tip toeing on silk
Cute. the face of reason. I, the shout amongst the silent, no more insane.

I slept. In a nicotine fingered nest, cradled in the obsessed, the regressed hypnosis mind
A figure father reason, the point of why I tried
To escape. Just one more time. I needed absolution, I craved the essence
The effervescent point of mathematical science, of help on a desert road
I draw myself inwards, turtle neck hung and strung in a brief triumphent explode

I slept amongst the dead. Yet all I remembered was the sky so blue on pure
My mother still protects me to this day amongst the integral clocks and cogs,
I slept on dreams of aspirations , I cried on billion dollar sky's
On finest woods and logs.

The zebra yellow sun

Start as you mean to go on. The mercury of your heart temperature, a gage, of the masters
Finish within, the second, of a first tripped on the sidewalk, of the mind, the creator of disasters
Of biblical psalms, coloured against the realms of black and white, of horizons zebra yellow sun
Toes dipped in the ocean,  of the imbeciles phone , while you're holding on.

Spinning around, the sound of lions roaring on tribulations, suppositions of superstitious beliefs
How much deeper am I allowed to go, because I have plenty left in the tank of robbers and thieves
The mask of plenty, an introvert crying against the cheek of the concrete wall
I'm a hostage, chained, a handcuffed bondage, I have nowhere else to dial, no one else to call.

If I can delve, just for a minute second, I need my mothers hand to guide me
I crave her finger tips to caress me back to life, I need her strength to help this soul to see
To show and Provide an ancient warrior, still fighting on this realm
For I am blinded as we stand, the cataracts,  pupil , coated by a film.

It's the evening, a different season, spiced, amongst dictators that will always die
No longer the king of my mind, for I am the master , I am the reason why I laugh and I cry
I am the ruler of my own destiny. I am the power, the gage and the master
You no longer inhabit the cell of my brain, I'm the artist of this particular disaster.

It's a self portrait, taken in a mirror of reflection,
I chose to dalliance, tipped toes on ballerinas cramped direction
Start as you mean to go on, that's the advice I give you my son
And always scan the horizons, for the zebra yellow sun.