Can’t move Three, two, one, go! Open your eyes. No. No. It’s not real. OPEN YOUR EYES NOW! Eyes, not yours, watching; hands, not yours, reaching. Who… what is that at the window? A dream? But you’re awake, paralysed, still can’t move.
A speck fell on the ground. can't make a sound. though it sure does try. "God said let there be light" "God is dead, and we killed him" there is no way to clean it up. there is no too much nor an enough. for that small speck that fell there on the ground. they say it was ol' Prometheus that lent the speck a torch to tame grown bright's the light of that flame but black water stays cold and never needs fuel it see's it's fall tries to call and hits ground
more? drip drop in you pop black as in plain my only true friend please ease my condition yes appease my addiction oh lord give me some substance strength my brain hurts and my soul is aching if I could rest just a little longer... couldn't kick you if i was stronger dairy would make me a liar sugar's for dishonest tongues for your my strong weakness your heat and sweetness is bitter-sweet am i fine drip drop drop
Poetry is The earth we see When its tumultuous and green
And syllables Are the rivers Carving out valleys deep beneath
I did a pretty in depth analysis on one of my favorite singer/songwriter and the results were surprising. He often crafts lyrics in a very poetic fashion, with an orderly, underlying structure of sorts. Never unwilling to bend or break from the format. But still clever in the ways of syllable-based structuring. Which is cool and makes me want to take better care of my own prose and poetic lines.