#licence
A placid stage
an empty pen
the darkness lightens
a blank page
a twitching pen oversees
selecting the moment to absorb
alluring the inspiration
disentangling thy thought
marginalising the common prose
normalising whats abnormal
speculating on even odds
visualising the nameless
stretching our minds
initiating the neuronal storm
linking the concepts
harmonising the differences
charging the cells
exposing feelings
sedating our peaks
calming the waters
stoking the potency
waiting for the first sweat drop
a conjunctional licence is awarded
t's are uncrossed
dreams are laid bare
the pen starts to move
the writer is admonished
a frisson of creation
exhilaration of the chase
in fruition the seed
unlocked the thoughts of mankind
and as one with the page
now a link to our past
the pen at last starts to gush
the page speaks of its self
the words outlive the thoughts
the page awaits a purveyor
placed with others of a similar nature
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:20 PM UTC
fireball burst
searing
probity
clenched coil
bleeds purple
rabid rage
fists itch
sue for
strike
temple warden
glares strained
calls culled
rampant riot
bristles broken
fervid
all exits
blocked tight
stifled screams
fade as winds
of sense
take command
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
.
Woe is me!
Oh! Woe is me!
No longer can I create art
No longer can I pen stanza's
No longer can I rhyme couplets
No longer can I compose beauty
Because they won't let me
They won't let me
Not until
I get
a
.
.
.
Poetic Licence
© Pagan Paul (01/09/16)
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 5:57 AM UTC
text= Jay/Sonic Philtre ** Text = Mr Sandman**
TYRANT
=======
*I was born Temujin. It means blacksmith.
I entered the world with a blood clot gripped in my fist.
A sign. Destined to rule. More than mortal man.
I'll unite the tribes as Genghis Khan.
Nomadic tribes. Erratic fractured divides.
Now ride aligned at my side.
The Mongol Horde pours onward.
Behold. The flail of God. All fall. Conquered.
Homicidal persuasions. Genocidal invasions.
I'm destroyin the nations. All brought to heel.
Crushed. At my will.
Millions killed under hoof and bow and steel.
Now feel the wrath of Khan. And bend knee.
My name echoes.....Through the centuries.
Infamy preceding me. History remembers me.
Cos I'm a tyrant.*
**Not born to the throne,I was borne to the Throne,
uncle claimed me as his own,thus my dynasty was born,
a ruthless cut throat,poisonous child,raised in glory,til I ran wild,
my Legions spread round the world like lesions,
my Army needs Levies,kill the rest take the young sons,
join my centuries, echo through the centuries,
Demonic on the Throne,of course they'll remember me!
Praetorian Guard stand hard at my side,
as I flaunt the power of an empire spread wide,
Crushed Britanicus force beneath my sandalled heel,
never before, or since has such power been wielded,
by a frenzied Madman,don't kiss my seal,
it's a ring of death,I giggle at your last breath,
love my horses more than you fools and I'll prove it!,
bread and circuses to palliate the masses,
burn christ lovers alive-now hide your Masses!
My own mother crossed me-I kissed her dead lips,
who's next to die,Throne room is an Apocaplypse!,
spinning out of control,Watched Rome burn,and laughed,
didn't fiddle I was wrappin hot griddles round the lower class,
smell of burning flesh my favourite aphrodisiac,
Bound Aphrodite in human form and ripped flesh from her back,
24and I married my own sister Drusilla,and then killed her,
sinking deeper in insanity Depravity my filter ,
my own advisers avoid my eyes,
knowing that a single twitch could mean they're next to die,
meanwhile I conquer more of earth,am I truly born of earth?,
I think not,Godhood will be my next re-birth,
these filthy savages believe in totems,let them eat dirt,
when I unleash hell from catapults of fire that wreak grim work,
Roma Victor is the cry as they die in a hellish death dance,
The Legacy that will live forever after me the Godhood Tyrant.**
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC