The seductress on my mind
Lives in full on expression
Laced in the free confines
And platitudes of direction
The sequential confessions
A private march of signs
Lead aggressive regression
A spinal tap of times
Timid forms of prose
Do not impose, much
In the way of speech
Or the ways of preach
A dandelion blossoms
Fully under direction
Of gunfire and hellfire
Made in mans *****
A milk which is colored
A dark, rusting, crimson
For this is the gift adorned
An antiquated prison
A dream once flowed upon
The rivers that line my arms
Texts of pharaohs charmed
With distant songs sung
Yet, not distant enough
Into a further realm of
Steak, salmon, wine, and
Pontification, a type sublime
Cardiac and stop and frisk arrests
Psychedelics and prophylactics
Insomniacs and chipper morn birds
Courage and numbing fear tactics
Topics are churned forward
As thoughts are yearned for
But are seldom rewarded
Without snide comments
Even if contorted to fit
Daily textbook definitions
A raindrop is precipitation
Not tears from eyes of perdition
Said a jeering member of an alley
A gatekeeper for all of Hades
A living reminder of what shape
Controls societies minions a plenty
I believe you are a queen lost in time
You are the seductress on my mind
The boom-bap of 90s street art hop
A collection of lives birthed caught
You are the desire of my epicenter
The freezing of my two lips together
A culture of desire and of fortune
A soft room with croons in tunes
I believe you are not pink matter
You are the color scheme in the sun
A serpent slithering within disaster
A tale of victory and woe as one
Tears sting the edges of my eyes
As shadows are cast upon my soul
A tree in mourning for it's seeds
As oil desecrates, dry, shallow soil
When did this become a love poem?
Atop the raft my dreams have flowed
Wordsmiths fashion sturdy homes
To heal the word and to help growth
Inside one of these I fled and bled
In it I found fish, water, and bread
Self-hate and despair had spread
Until it was fully excreted in death
The seductress on my mind brought:
Dandelions with smoke from gunfire
Milk which was crimson in color
Pharaohs songs of golden charm
A conversation in full, and open arms
Arms that held my dreams with calm
Constructs of love and poetic meals
Heal the surface of darkness scorn
Feeding the soul of it's sullen needs
A return to an innocence unborn
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
The seductress on my mind
Lives in full on expression
Laced in the free confines
And platitudes of direction
The sequential confessions
A private march of signs
Lead aggressive regression
A spinal tap of times
Timid forms of prose
Do not impose, much
In the way of speech
Or the ways of preach
A dandelion blossoms
Fully under direction
Of gunfire and hellfire
Made in mans *****
A milk which is colored
A dark, rusting, crimson
For this is the gift adorned
An antiquated prison
A dream once flowed upon
The rivers that line my arms
Texts of pharaohs charmed
With distant songs sung
Yet, not distant enough
Into a further realm of
Steak, salmon, wine, and
Pontification, a type sublime
Cardiac and stop and frisk arrests
Psychedelics and prophylactics
Insomniacs and chipper morn birds
Courage and numbing fear tactics
Topics are churned forward
As thoughts are yearned for
But are seldom rewarded
Without snide comments
Even if contorted to fit
Daily textbook definitions
A raindrop is precipitation
Not tears from eyes of perdition
Said a jeering member of an alley
A gatekeeper for all of Hades
A living reminder of what shape
Controls societies minions a plenty
I believe you are a queen lost in time
You are the seductress on my mind
The boom-bap of 90s street art hop
A collection of lives birthed caught
You are the desire of my epicenter
The freezing of my two lips together
A culture of desire and of fortune
A soft room with croons in tunes
I believe you are not pink matter
You are the color scheme in the sun
A serpent slithering within disaster
A tale of victory and woe as one
Tears sting the edges of my eyes
As shadows are cast upon my soul
A tree in mourning for it's seeds
As oil desecrates, dry, shallow soil
When did this become a love poem?
Atop the raft my dreams have flowed
Wordsmiths fashion sturdy homes
To heal the word and to help growth
Inside one of these I fled and bled
In it I found fish, water, and bread
Self-hate and despair had spread
Until it was fully excreted in death
The seductress on my mind brought:
Dandelions with smoke from gunfire
Milk which was crimson in color
Pharaohs songs of golden charm
A conversation in full, and open arms
Arms that held my dreams with calm
Constructs of love and poetic meals
Heal the surface of darkness scorn
Feeding the soul of it's sullen needs
A return to an innocence unborn
