One day after walking one day
The middle of March
I spied a young lady
Who drew first a spark

Later that night
She held out a hand
(I held on tight)
She caressed my back (and said)
“It’ll all be alright,
“you’re still here now
“that’s all that counts.
Replied ‘yea but’
“Thas all that counts”

In the restless night I’ve known
The restless poet who has sown
His vagabondish sheet
From cradle to street

What a sight for sore eyes
The mail that cuts is own lies (eyes)
Lies lies lies lies lies (eyes)

He lies (lays)
But doesn’t sleep
The cuckoo bird, well,
Doeth cheep
Or nightingale
Or owl
Which bears a ***** scowl
‘in the forests of the night’
Blakenly defying

“It’ll all be alright”

I felt the kiss of a girl
She touched me
She still is

Yet she won’t last
Nothing ever does
Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role

She believed and she made a believer out of me
In the granjoke.
“I must say i’m impressed with this stuff”
Is the old semimental fluff
You’d expect from a saucepan elect.

I felt the kiss of the girl
And the cold air biting at my earlobe
I felt it.


I felt it man.
I didn’t just sense it.


So anyway she pulls away
My lips gainst hers
Then not again. For the thousandth time.
First time in ages.

She clung but did not lock
Her taste, i remembered well,
Sweet and unsavoury
Unique, repulsive

She got me convulsive
Submissive
Allowable to the point of
Control.

Now I don’t complain to be no great
Wordsmith of our time
But when the fates align
And forces combine
She was there.

Staring through her orange glow
In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.

I felt the kiss of a joint
She touched me
She still is

Yet she won’t last
Nothing ever does
Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role

She believed and she made a believer out of me
In the ganjoke.
“I must say i’m impressed with this stuff”
Is the old semimental fluff
You’d expect from a ****** elect.

I felt the kiss of the joint
And the cold air biting at my earlobe
I felt it.


I felt it man.
I didn’t just sense it.


So anyway she pulls away
My lips gainst hers
Then not again. For the thousandth time.
First time in ages.

She clung but did not lock
Her taste, i remembered well,
Sweet and unsavoury
Unique, repulsive

She got me convulsive
Submissive
Allowable to the point of
Control.

Now I don’t complain to be no great
Wordsmith of our time
But when the fates align
And forces combine
She was there.

Staring through her orange glow
In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.

Ok. Before I go over the edge. Remember bed is over there.

Ok No what does modernisation really mean?
Can you utter a cause or a singlular theme?

Can you correspond with the elite
While they travail the armpit of luck
with money compete?

Is the totality of all modern hope
Just a pinch and a *****
At the mechanism that moves us forward?
Thought defunct.

Or really?
Is it completely
Debunked?

Have the affluent articulate contrived in their lair?
An image of hope that's been thought to declare
Constant reward
At the expense of a few
Whilst we stand in line waiting.
The snakes not the devil,
it's the queue.

Heaping on heartbreak
The causeless remiss
Seeking new nerves
Challenges this

Feverish to the state of unbeing.
My wish is to evince green natured sublimity.
My love waits for one moment between
A valley between peaks
Mt. Adore, Mt. Deplore
Where every pocket of my immediate surroundings
Pulses it’s rhythmic truth
Rattles my sensation
Rattles of co-corporalisation to the tips of my nerve
Till my chest sinks or swallows or something
Till I literally gasp before the miracle of the Air
Till I phase out.
Till next time.
The hum drums on

Oh, the truth lingers on

At the tip

Fresh off the tongue

Like a spice

tickles down

Leaves you flustered

Leaves a frown?



Some people can tolerate more

Others are more

Sensitive.



Relief is right there

Straight from the breast

Take a quick swiggle

It’ll soothen the test.



If you get flushed though

Don’t berate yourself much

Just means you need less,

Mon amie,

What a rush

Your abuse is sentimental to me

Your smile is a creep

You’re wrong in all number of right ways for me

You snore in your sleep

You don’t look pretty when

You look your best

You’re an ape in sheep’s clothing

You’re no worse than the rest

You’re a sore loser

You know I’m one too

You solve all my conundrums for me,

I’ll pick apart one for you.