Get on feet
out of seats
with a firm, stretched palm,
maybe even stick a tongue out.
elated- get pumped.
Yell something trite,
That's what I'm talking about!
Get a rush
from the head to the Seoul,
get a fresh set of wings,
fly from the hardwood,
Full-court press be ******-
This goes beyond the laces,
the stoic referee winded-
travels hot fast and hard,
after the huddle, before the late whistle
and the fist-bump.
This is success at its most savage,
emotion at its rawest,
audiences at their most breathless
This, son, is the slam dunk.
Anything less would be a travesty
to the occasion.
I squeeze the juice from my favorite words
and store it inside a decorative vial.
The contents are potent and long since stirred.
The mixture's turned foul with stench and curds,
with shame it's developed a semblance of bile,
'Cause I've squeezed the juice from my favorite words.
In the days when epiphanies simply occurred-
the privalege of picking choice cuts from the pile-
the contents were potent and hadn't been stirred.
Now I'm frozen, unable to harvest when spurred.
There's a dangerous feeling I'm losing my style-
I squeeze more juice from my favorite words.
Enough lamentation; I'll focus on her-
she's my passion, my engine, my nature, my Nile-
her contents are potent and need not be stirred.
Alas! I'm inspired, unflagging, assured.
The momentum she gives lasts me infinite miles.
I squeeze the juice from her powerful words-
the contents are potent and need not be stirred.
Don't listen to dreams
Steeped in midnight's cold blight.
Don't listen to friends
Who tote feeble insight.
Don't listen to your TV,
With its romance awry.
But listen to you,
With your heart beating wide,
And your one true love
Steadfast by your side.
Can I turn off your brain,
like you do when you kiss me,
so we can just feel?
What miracle my Love allows!
She helps me walk atop rain clouds,
and if my foot dips 'low the shroud-
and pulls me toward dark, distant ground-
She slows her pace,
bends at the waist,
then plants a kiss upon my brow.
So once again my footing's found!
You've handled more than you should take,
then took my hand, refused to break.
Amongst the promises and vows,
there's one last truth I'll show you now-
I'm mouthing words when you're not near
and saving them for you to hear-
*Replace your worry, tears, and blues
with all my love and dreams come true.
Rabble, babble, babble
blinking buildings, ashen wood.
Good posture turns preposterous,
not feeling as I should.
Bare back no racks of social tax,
receipts below the hull;
A lack of lax amongst the facts
a tray of butts grown full.