To another vine lend me your ears precious
in serene pennyworth abide with these musings
perchance some are worth tasting while some to spill
for in roaring thunder even lightenings fall to earths mud
departing in blazing strikes all soon back nowhere
thunder's enraged roars is nowt but a calling ring to clouds

In the town unsettled where beings walk backwards
copulatives asunder in misty dusts of vacuous airs
scatterlings and urchins denied widows mites spittle red-eyed
while reasons abscond and aged find marbles less to minds
in blooming fog and steamy cacophonies vocal daggers brandishes
deadly songs crawl out in hot peculiar jargon devoid of rhyme
dancing wounding poses striking jugulars in scarlet reign

as such the story of the many in times of then and now
but the sages deem if the center holds the outer battle lessens
the ***** to the walking remains grounded despite the big mouth
a wounded tiger carries twofold fierceness
and thus will strike with two paws and hinds
while the blinds sees all beings as dark faced voices regardless
so from the core ill bearing utterances I at quick take to burial
shawled in the knowing of cause and intention as a bird flies
the sour meal put on my table is not mine to eat

A lady of the night is always the first to recognize a *******
pilferers will call others thieves to move the shadows from them
while errant preachers call on God as their witness
misdeeds and chicaneries abound for man is born in sin
sounds alas, the formidable weapons that maim and kills
same as it molds and caresses same as it utters love in lies or truth
so water of a duck's back for some or a fitting burial
or take with that pinch of salt
if in certainty one is absolve of causation
in inner peace the center will hold and one remains fair of face
for Karma is beautiful and not always that ***** of 'renowned