Hey you!
With a hole in your head
And a widow
In your bed
Sleeping with your Purple Heart  

Hey you!
In a shallow grave of sand
In a far too distant land
Where war shall ever reign
Like Hell's eternal flame

Where is your peace?

Where is your soul?

Where was your God?

~ P
#HeroesRemorse
(1/1/2016)

A few days
Every few weeks,
These scars speak to me
From the heart,
Broken not by love,
But for life
Extended.

The surgeon's knife
Xacted a reprieve
From end untimely
To new beginning.

And time's no longer
An orphan ignored
But the treasured child,
Finite virtue extolled;

Like the mariner of truth,
She lies on wings
Of fate;

Bypassing clots
And coroners;

That scars might speak to me
A few days more,
Every few weeks.

~ P
(#ScarWars)
12/19/2015

She was barely getting by;
He didn't even try;
Even the roaches knew
The shack painted blue
With no lights
Was on the chopping block

A butcher in a black tie
Rode by,
Greased hands dripping
The couple's blood

The roof leaked
Their pain,
Each drop of rain
Digging deeper

Wet, soul-crushing boots
With toes of steel
Kicked through the door
And the security of home

She was barely getting by;
He didn't even try;
Even the roaches knew
The shack painted blue
With no lights
Was on the chopping block

~ P
#ButcherInABlackTie
(9/16/15)

mine eye is a liar
and these images I see
as clear as can be
are but smoke
to the fire,
stoking my ire,
my scathing desire
for truth

I burn
when lens of lore
magnify times ten,
the plight of thieves and ******
on bleak street
but skip the drum's beat
to which they bop
at city hall

mine eye is a liar
and this black misery I see
cycling from court
to jail
and back
on bikes broken and bent,
is but a tour de jour,
a race with no end
but scars and stripes

the stars are long gone,
stripped from mine eye
and theirs
by hope-stealers,

they haunt the straits within

~ P
#MineEyeIsALiar
(8/5/2015)

they cower in motels
behind brave windows and balconies,
hurling mortal nouns
into private spaces

avatar faces
painted dirt brown
spew hurt and shame
like acid rain
with decadent refrain

and broken blades
seek veins hidden
in sheer fright
from eyes cued to gore,
grime and more

criminal cocktails
circumvent cogency
by a moonshiner's mile

improvised neckwear
leave a mark
as the world goes dark
like forensic files
or the hunt

and another soul
checks out early,
bypassing the lobby
and the regally blind

eyes cued to gore,
grime and more....

~ P
#bedroombullies
(8/3/2015)

if greyhounds could talk,
tales buried in beats, braids and snapbacks
would be told;

lines blurred by the plight
of indifference
would unfold,
connecting souls waiting to die
on straits unforgiving,
to souls willing to try...

and the book of humanity
wouldn't be so
blue...

~ P
(#soblue)
8/1/2015

after slicing through
a few white layers of
the anthropological egg,
an erudite chef
observed a ***** in the fetal position

he was well-preserved,
a black olive in a pickle jar,
preceding the beginning of recorded time,
and the boreal age

the bells were all flat then;
curves came later

he held a golden key in his hand
and a crumpled scroll,
a map of sorts
in a series of 1 and 0
connected by dots

the chef took the key,
deciphered the scroll,
put the ***** in chains,
and stole his gold

then he prepared
a delectable feast for the world....

history!

~ P
(#Miseducation)

When time, my treasured friend,
and folly knew no end,
then laughter pure did flow,
raucous echoes from the soul.

Woe whistled with the wind,
claws never sinking in.

Sin hovered in the dark,
waging battles for the heart.

Sparks of lust and love did fly,
flashing doves white through the sky.

Fledgling wings of feathered lies
swept us both to frenzied highs.

Cries of passion!

Miles of joy!

Ran by every girl and boy,
left us grasping breathless air
pillows scattered here to dare
a pair who knew such bliss
as this
would end with letters
torn to bits
and hiss like serpents
seeking blood.

Splattered dreams...

Broken chime...

O, how the heart corrodes through time!

Once my very treasured friend,
now a folly come to end.

~ P
(#CorrodedTreasure)

did the common fish
bear witness to your dive
from cliff conformity
through that raging hole
in the sea
carved by uncertainty
and fear?

did the strident lark
hear your resolve
ringing with resonant refrain
from the ivory sill
up yonder?

did the hapless beggar
see her tears
in your eyes
dripping with empathy
at her demise?

did the orphaned child
smile with glee
unbridled
when the toy
he so craved
arrived suddenly on a star
piloted by you?

did you leave
a blissful byte or two
in the memory
of another?

lift a soul
in plight
like a buoyant kite,
with a gust of kindness?

or were you so consumed
chasin' hell
that you missed
the heaven
in earth's purest pleasures....

~ P
(#ChasinHell)
1/27/2015

the tyrant sneezed
and his stooges
caught the minionic plague

~ P
1/26/2015

the task awaits
its martyr
lost in the toothless cavity
of those who rant and rave
then take a mountain of words
to their graves...

here lies a man of brave tongue
who wielded nouns
and verbs
like shaka's golden assegai
hurled at the sun...

there lies a woman
whose meter and rhyme
ricochets off pakoraima's peak
filling the amazon with song
as the waracabra sleep
unfazed,
dreaming of blood....

the savage beast's
only fear
is the certainty
and imminence of death...

save your breath
for the hunt
dear comrade,
and your lyrical fury
for the ****

~ P
(#DearComrade)
1/25/2015

between
the bang......and.....crunch
everything matters
including
nothing
...............
for no-thing
is some-thing
and every-thing
is no-thing
without
some-thing

~ P
(#theoryofappliednothingness)
1/16/2015

she gave me 5 stars
cause the BIG dipper
left scars on her psyche,
searing her soul,
touching her in forbidden places,
tapping new springs
of dieve and decadence

MOTHER OF GOD!

she screams,
tongue untied by throes of passion,
toes curl,
fingers engage
stroking wax off bikini strings

as she rolls over
to insert
a page marker
into my new anthology
of ****** poetry:

the BIG dipper!

coming soon to a booksmith's near you....

~ P
(#theBIGdipper)

miles before we became
men full-blown,
we crunched nails for lunch,
lead for dinner,
heartburn for life....

after the dance
came shock therapy
and dreams interrupted,
incomplete
like pages ripped
from the manUScript of me
slicing apple pies
under the white picket fence
while babies chase bubbles over the lawn,
green like malvoes in cantho...

pages torn...
discarded...
unpublished...

and the author is dead!

~ P
(#19in71)

Ambition,
Like green ivy,
Is a twisting thing.

She scales walls meant
To divide,
Uplifting spirits like bossa nova
To new highs.

Objects in the sky
Beyond the naked eye's locus
Descend into focus
Filling voids of mind
With lasik clarity.

Super-headed fuel
Refined for
Optimal thought production.

Problems complex appear
Then recede as your motivation
Bleeds like coletrane
through life's storms;

And seeds of preparation

Bear fruit....

~ P
(#BossaNova)
1/12/2015

In this house
Of toys
Built by Penn,
The gable never peaks

Higher, higher...

It soars from sand through air
And surging storm
Defying the weeping rain
And her ominous refrain

Pitter, patter...

The owls knew
But their sage counsel
Fizzled in the wind

Hoo, hoo...

Bulls bred on steroids
From Farm Fed
Rang the bell

Moo, moo...

Goring without prejudice
Matadors who didn't see red
Until their dreams bled
On the front lawn
Like lambs of lore

Maaa, maaa...

And the house
Of toys
Built by Penn
Crumbled in the sand
Levered string severed
By the red marching band

~ P
(#HouseOfToys)
1/4/2015

History was made here
As a blacksmith
On Ebbets field
Hammering metal blocks
Into master keys;

That doors once locked
Unjustly
Might yield;

That access once denied
Might field a team
Of jack and white;

And a wrinkled page
Might burn the braves
And turn a band of indians
Into champions...

~ P
(#Integration)
1/2/2015

Clinging to
A past no longer there
From a present
Consumed by fear
Of tomorrow's unknown...
~ P
(#Anxiophrenic)
1/2/2015

To be lonely
In a world overflowing
With human spirit;
Where the bustle
And buzz of life
Churn with irreverent disdain

To glance
Then stare
At the familiar stranger
Standing there,
Framed by a celestial cloud

The earth's drums
Beat a spell that binds
And we dance like
Noble firs in a storm

Twisting to tragedy
And joy
And spontaneity

O! To savor
The fierce ecstasy of now
And bask in her glory

To heed the call
Of destiny
Standing there
Framed by a celestial cloud

And be lonely no more...

~ P
(#TheFierceEcstasyOfNow)
1/1/2015

From ex to next
And every twinge of regret,
Or relief,
In between

There is a trinket,
A treasured nugget sunk
Deep in the chest
Of her recurring dream

A raw reminder
Of what might have been
Had she forsaken
The processed diamond
For that precious
Hunk of gold

~ P
(#HunkOfGold)
12/29/2014

He fell through the crack,
That black hole in the ghetto

Can't you see?

Back before 1st grade;
He ain't like you or me

His eyes are cold;
His soul is empty;
His mode is survival

And everyone's a prey
When doors close everyday,
His checkered past
Unworthy of a pass

Shackled he stays
To minimum wage,
Petty crime and misdemeanors;
Doing hard time
Beyond bars

"This country ain't for me..."
He seethes
"I'm only good for wars,
Not the cultural caviar..."

He fell through the crack,
That black hole in the ghetto

Can't you see?

Back before 1st grade;
He ain't like you or me...

~P
(#ThisCountryAintForMe)
12/26/2014

On the rooftop,
60 flights removed
From my ni##uh woes
Searching the streets below...

I am free to exhale
And savor the salt,
Freeze and possibilities
Of the evening breeze

Or jump...

Without prejudice
Or trepidation,
I breathe...

And dream a scene surreal
On the canvas of my immigrant mind
Where hope is an eagle
That ever flies

She soars o'er profiles of pain
Unfazed by chains of color
And crass

She is my die cast
On destiny's carousel
And I shall ever be
A dreamer...

A life worth saving...

On the rooftop
60 flights removed
From my ni##uh woes
Frisking the streets below....

~ P
(#NigguhWoes)
12/26/2014

If your his-story
Were laundered
On the public square,
Extracting dirt and lie

Then hung out to dry
For all to see

Would you claim it?

Or would you deny
Those black-eyed holes
Glaring
From your wife-beaters...

Shards of glass
Sparkling
From your backyard....

Skulls and bones
Cackling
From your closet...

Projecting only
Those glossy golden eggs
Like cliff the eta carinae
From st luke's
In the village

'til those cluckin' hens came home...

~ P
(#ThoseCluckinHens)
12/25/2014

Reaching back,
Back to that fork
In the road
Where irreversible consequence
Hid like angina
In a dunhill bubble

And you veered left,
Smitten by the decadence of mint
And mythical circles
Blown with liberal disdain
From a camel's ****

You followed the green line
Rippling like waves
Of vintage wine
Through gomorrah

Caution blown
As a midsummers gale
Between tarred lips,
Your ship sailed
The straits of cool
From bogart to newport

If dean only knew
Nat the king
Could still be singing
Nature boy on the square,
Live

He might have spurned his spyder
And lucky strikes
For a slice of life
Beyond 24

And you might have
Veered right
At that fork in the road,
Swapping scarred consequence,
Tarred lips,
And angina
For the whole pie

~ P
(#FromTheCamelsButt)
12/24/2014

he found a bundle
of rights intangible
hanging like leaves
in plain sight
without a label or name

so he claimed...

it was perched like a parrot
on a poplar tree
in Central Park
left furtively
after dark
by ranger Henry III
who opened the gates daily

for the likes of...

Joe
of Public renown
who'd lost all he owned
in a Ponzi scheme
trading his golden throne
and sins
for the broken bench

and a bottle of gin...

under the shade of leaves
green like the open court
he prayed
and plotted his return

it wasn't long...

after his fall
from Chase
to the broken bench
that 1000 points of light
descended
shattering the fog over his lens

and with lasik eyes....

he saw the bundle
of rights intangible
hanging like leaves
in plain sight
with a label and name

and he claimed it as his own....

~ P
(#HenrysBundleOfRights)

Come into my commune,
My farm
In the sky;
You won't be lonely
Baby,
Not by a hiker's mile

Let's climb
Into the morrow,
Throwing fear
To the wind

The curators
Of sorrow
Are seething within

They prey
On your pleasure
And worship your sin

Like vultures
They hover,
Like maggots
They win

Come into my commune,
My farm
In the sky;
And feast
On your freedom

Then bury your lies;

You won't be lonely
Baby,
Not by a hiker's mile

~ P
#AHikersMile
(12/20/2014)

I looked up,
Up into the brilliance of history
Filling the sky with awe
And mystery

Then down,
Down onto solid ground,
The enigmatic host
Of life,
Death
And every fossil
In between

And through
The leaves of time
My light came
Shining,
Shining

For every storm
That raged
And every bird
Uncaged

There is a cause,
A natural calling,
A learning tree
To climb
And preserve

Like living fruit
With seeds the world
To feed

By every means necessary

~ P
#ForEveryStorm
(12/14/2014)

I sell loosies
On the strip
Flipping Jacksons
Into Grants and Benjamins,
Tax-free

At 6 five
And a few stones
Shy of a brick house,
My packs are stashed
Like mousetraps
On the block
Primed with nicotine

Beyond the naked eye
Pieces of me
Bleed broken
Between pores of kohn
Like colored inmates shackled in cells
To misdemeanors

Like selling loosies...

And I need mdi's
To breathe
When the air gets thin
Or when a chiseled arm is locked
Below my chin

For selling loosies...

And I'm kissing cement,
Gasping, "I--can't--breathe!"
On bay street
Bullied by black boots,
Blue eyes
And deaf ears

For selling loosies...

But don't tell that
To my future assassins...

Their sacred blue is immune
To my tainted black.

~ P
#ISellLoosies
(12/13/14)

Under a Godless sky
They fed her newborn screaming
To giant gators
Then laughed with drunken glee
Through moonshine
And missing teeth
At her desperate plea

No mercy
Would there ever be
For the nigguh chile
With light blue eyes
Like Jesus

They fed um screaming
To giant gators

They fed um screaming
To giant gators
~ P
(#NigguhChile)
9/21/2014

With lungs of aspiration
We breathe life into
A wretched town
Where trenchant tongues were severed
And fed to hogs

Where mutinous mouths
Were stuffed with filth
Of humanity
Then taped shut,
Silencing resistance

Where fettered feet swung
Lifelessly
From trees,

Necks stretched
Black / Eyes shot
Red / Skin stained
Blue

Despair lives
In the air 'round here
Like fear
In broken hearts

Scars run deep
And molten rocks weep
Into rivers

In sleep
We dream of lives
Repaired
And souls relieved of strife

Awake
We seek the light
Breathing life
Into this wretched town

~ P
(#TheAirRoundHere)
6/11/14

Unchristened,
I circle the sun
Clutching books of darkness.

Each page, a starless night,
A devil's duel for the soul.

An orphaned *****
Shackles my ****** thoughts
And to her drums
I beat.

Lust stomping feet
Of pleasure and song,
Of treasures sunk
Betwixt a finger and thumb.

I turn the page
Engaged,
I turn another
To find a willing centerfold.

Pedicured pink on toes
Flung high
In steel stilettos,
A feast for hungry eyes.

The mind grieves
Spilling guilt like leaves
Onto a passing cloud.

A boy
Perchance a girl
The world shall never know.

Like stars unborn,
They whisper
In the wind.

~ P
(#LeavesUponAPassingCloud)
6/7/2014

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Killeen
& Camden

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ San Diego
& Aurora

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Fairchild
& Fort Hood

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Columbine
& V. Tech

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Pearl
& Paducah

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Newtown
& Santa Barbara

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted minds, fingers twisted,
twisted triggers
@???
&???

broken system

broken lives
        
straight bullets

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

~ P
#Twisted
(5/30/2014)

Lest your words
Die unheard
In the silence of your fears,
As your pulse races
To the trending beat of conformation

Lest the genesis
Of a revolution
Elude yet another generation,
Then another

Unmute the doctrine
Of truth
From your sealed
Cowardly lips

Undress the dinosaurs
Of bigotry and hate
With your lyrical whip
Of accountability

Let them squirm
Like maggots
Gorging on their own rotting bones

Until they are one
With the earth's crust

Like triceratops

And sterlingosaurus...

~ P
(#FromMySealedCowadlyLips)
05/29/2014

Just yesterday
I stared at the dead blue sky
Yawning wide and high
Over Georgia

As a solitary bird,
Feathered wings extended,
Surfed the gusting wind
White, uncaged,
Thirsting for life

And song...
For reasons known
Only to gifted thespians
Like Maya

She painted words
Like rainbows
Through our rainy days,
Each cryptic line
Enriched with incandescent
Colors of light

She filled our cups
With infinite wit, allegory
And a whimsical slice
Of hope

Rippling springs
In the desert
Of our thirst

For inspiration
And clarity
Are the rocks
That weep this day
In the dark unknown

As angels smile,
And the uncaged bird
Sings goodbye
From the dead blue sky
Yawning wide and high
Over the world

~ P
#ForMaya
(05/28/2014)

Armed with a truthbrush
And a few mythbusters
From zanzibar,
I scoured my soul
Like I'd never done before

Defying delusions
Of grandeur
Guarding doors shackled
And sealed
With cultural stereotape

I broke through the locks
And the shock
Of four centuries
Consumed me

The stench of humanity
Gone wild
Was palpable
Like cotton and gold

But the world was neither
Pitiless nor blind
To the plight
Of the slave's child

And the chiren
Of her *****
Would unite in the fight
To repair wounds
20 generations deep

Making the scars
Of imperious nations
Easier to bear

~ P
(#TheScarsofImperiousNations)
4/21/2014

Was a lady in the lobby,
A gatekeeper of sorts;
She looked at me with
Fire in her eyes,
And her tongue shot
Bullets of condescension
Like a southern gun pre-loaded
With prejudice....

They stung
The first few times
And once or twice,
Almost triggered
My nuclear option...

But I bit mine,
Swallowing hard through
Clenched teeth
To channel my smiling shield...

Refusing to cede
Control of my rage
To the lady in the lobby...

Or any mortal.

~ P
(#TheLadyInTheLobby)
4/19/2014

When the thirst for freedom
Quenches the hunger of fear,
The cups of the oppressed
Shall fill to overflowing
With courage and zest
To wrestle,
By every means necessary,
rights and liberties
Denied far too long,
From the lascivious grasp
Of tyrants and kings;
So bloated by the feast,
They ate their lies
For dessert...
And forgot the truth.
~ P
(#OfTyrantsandKings)
4/19/2014

My ceiling light
Glows dimmer
As I surrender to
The fatal spell of slumber...

The kind
Unfettered by dream
Or weak bladder...

A reasonable facsimile
Of death while breathing...

Senses all heed the call
To rest and recharge...

The world's mysteries
Shall remain unsolved
Until dawn...

If
I awake!

~  P
(#SleepFatale)
04/11/14

I got three.
Degrees.
One shy of a phd.

And I'm dusting shelves
At Walgreens.

Too young for ss;
Too old for bs.

And hr.

I fell in the black hole
A million times two.

Maybe the third
Million's the charm?

Ima keep clicking,
*** the fed got bloodhounds
On my cell.

Chasing that 55k
I can't pay.

Or won't...

In solidarity with
The underemployed...

Dusting shelves
At a Walgreens near you.

~ P
(#HRblues)
4/10/2014

The cool player.
More honeys than fingers
And toes.

Like bees they gather.
Some wearing smiles,
Others laughter.

Babygirl don't waste
Your wine and chocolate cake
Waiting like monica
For a second date.

Don't you know the game?

Soft words, wet kisses.
Your lips for his castle.

Who's got your queen babygirl?

~ P
(#TheGame)
04/10/2014

When a book is read
To a child,
Her eyes open wide with yearning;
His fledgling mind starts churning
Like pedals on a bike
With learning wheels;
Together,
They climb curves steep
And wide
With words that sing
And thoughts that glide
Like birds
They fly to the Sun,
Enlightened...
~ P
(#LearningCurves)
4/6/2014

To live and earn;
To risk and learn
From chances missed
To treasures spurned

To laugh and cry;
To leap and fly
The jagged peaks
Of mountains high

To act and lead;
To plant the seed
That trees might grow
From fields below

To ask and probe;
To break the code,
The ties that bind,
The keys of mind

To dream and love;
To scream and shove
And carve in stone
An earthly throne

To sing and write;
To feel the plight
Of victims wronged
And make it right

To live!

~ P
(#VivoVixiVictum)
3/23/2014

Last eve,
I yearned
For the blissful comfort
Of sleep
And the delicate brush of
Cotton throws
On cheeks two
Weary to treat
Her hungry ears
To pillow talk...

Our feast of flattery
Spiced in the naughty lyric
Of foreplay,
The gourmet of prurient delights,
Simmered unstirred...

My spoon too
Weary to deliver...

~ P
(#TongueInCheek)
03/21/14

The pious pie squared
With erudite crumbs
By worthy chefs before me;

Topped with faith, theory
And porous facts;

Sliced by a dead president
In a top hat;

Tainted finger wagging
My tail
From school to jail;

Loaded bus painted
Greed, white and blue;

Driven at the speed of life
By an atheist
Who once knew God;

Then traded his peace
For ten pounds of sin
And a nuclear warhead....

~ P
(#TenPoundsofSin)
3/21/14

She leans on faith
As victims do
To make it through
To heaven's gate;

And though she cries
Black swollen eyes,
Her feet two bleed
On sacred ground;

Her battered pride
She tries to hide
Under the guise
Of laughter;

She wears a smile
For every mile
Of sorrow
Life throws at her;

She shakes a dollar
From a dime
And makes
Her quarters cry;

She gathers pennies
By the roll
Until the well
Runs dry;

Her only vice:
A man of ice
Who brings her
Joy and pain;

From gothic eyes
To granite fists,
She's shackled
To his chains;

And scores of us
Who know her not
Do scoff
And call her names;

We judge her plight
From distant heights
Like Gods
Of her domain;

We know not why
She wears a smile
For every mile
Of sorrow;

Perhaps she knows
That woes unearned
Are all redeemed
Tomorrow ...

Perhaps she knows
That woes unearned
Are all redeemed
Tomorrow...

~ P
(#RedemptionSong)
3/20/14

Deep into a
Dungeon of dreams
I slept,
Every demon resurrected;

The predator and  thieves,
The victims whose grief
Suppressed
Fuels the hunt for prey;

She feeds an aberrant need
For ****** flesh,
The chase, the test,
The bait, the birth of decadence;

She is my jury and judge,
The prurient couple who came
To my trials of temptation
And never left;

I tossed and wept,
My cotton sheets of discomfort
Twisting like a noose
Around my neck;

Eyes bugging red
Like every demon
Resurrected,
Seeking my head
On a platter
With a serving of remorse
On the side;

But I am rescued,
Once more,
By Dawn's pearly light
And her wakeful mercy....

~ P
(#MyDemonicPlague)
3/12/14

The noose of temptation
Hangs loosely
From the strings of life;

A dangling bone
Daring the dog in you
To bite...

And when you do,
It strangles the best in you,
Leaving the rest of you
To ponder,
Like a convict in jail:

What might have been
Had you simply
Wagged your tail?

~ P
(#TheDoginYou)
3/11/14

In Kogelo,
The Sun burns closer to Earth
Challenging native melanin
And the will of villagers
And Zebu herds
To persist...

At dusk,
Obsidian clouds descend
And kerosene lamps flicker
Through open windows
Of handcrafted homes...

There,
The father of a famous senator
Was born...

Transforming her trajectory
From the annals of obscurity
To the front pages of Times...

Soon,
Power lines upstaged the flickering lamp
And street signs were changed
Extolling her new-found fame
As history was made across the Atlantic...

In Kogelo,
Hope thrives in the eyes
Of every student
At Senator Obama Secondary School...

Sourced with native pride
From a White house
On the other side
Of the world.

~ P
(‪#‎Kogelo)
3/11/2014

Objects of lore,
To be
Sculpted on the Rock
Of Immortality,
Or not,
Like every dead president...

Pace the creative confines
Of painters, poets and priests
Where sermons are born,
Rembrandts unveiled,
And shackled verses released...

Have you seen
The sketches of a blind painter?

Have you read
The anthologies of an autistic child?

Have you felt
The sermon of a prodigal preacher?

Walls and words
Infused with melody, turquoise,
dogma and rhyme;

A sublime synergy of shade and song...

Choreographed for the exalted stage
Of the imagination...

where sculptors rare
And unsung wordsmiths dare
To dance....

~ P
(#SoaBP)
3/10/14

To the players
Made before '72...

YEAH  U!

Overt Consumers of
Just For Men;

Heads bobbing too long
On 2 Short,
Under Beats by Dre;

Hands directing traffic
In Slime Square;

Lips spitting lyrics vile
And profane
In public buses and trains
Like it's  your private studio....

IT AIN'T COOL
FOOL!

Take your recycled verb-age
To the shower,
And your Audience of One!

~ P
(#AudienceOfOne)
3/9/14