Ever heard your voice take a trip mid sentence
And start scrambling eggs,
Ending sentences with verbs,
Mixing Soy sauce with Bacardi
And chasing the laughter down your throat with onions

Cuckolding in the middle of the afternoon
Where violet doesn’t recognize blue
As a hue worthy enough to frolic with the afternoon dew,
And then your brain smiles to your ******

And you choke on a giggle
And wiggle an index finger just a little
And remember black widows
Were once angels who bought into self fulfilling prophecies

Like wearing Armani suits barefoot
And breathing through your skin
Hoping life doesn’t die in your arms
And leave a beautiful corpse
With great stories suffocating inside

And make the subpar ambitions of an unborn child jealous.
Now ever heard a genius cry?
‘cause then you’ve heard an artist cry.
Ever ate pork fried rice on a Sunday afternoon?
‘cause if you have you’ve heard the words of Leviticus cry.

Ever read these written words?
‘cause if you have you’ve heard memories die
And pains scream in alphabets of pleasure—
The universal language of immaculate deception
That sweeps through every tongue in involuntary pneumonia

Like waltzing to the Amen’s of the devil
With oxygen choking your nostrils
And monoxide nodding your fingers to pull the trigger
Of death dancing on the tomb of your destiny

Like how a dose of metamorphosis
And a 1mg of juxtaposition
Is the repertoire of a king of curmudgeon.
But ever heard a musical note?  
Then you’ve heard the story of how joy lost the war of happiness to bitterness.

Ever heard the sound of silence?
Then you’ve heard the face of evil and the thoughts of serenity
Joined at the hip of rock of Gibraltar,
Nodding heads at the gospels of Gothic prophets
Spewing sermons of a perfecter way to word the meaning of love.

Ever heard a Mockingjay sing?
Then you’ve heard the lullabies of suicide,
Like falling from grace from the eyes of your one true love
And landing on the plastic bag made of her silence
Only to wake from the land of death and catch your voice breaking at mid sentence
And mend it with the lies of sunshine that you call your life.

Forgive the Seekers
They just have too much
Of dancing flame
Which turns limp clay of bodies into stone
So they stand straight, so that they can
Endure the quest.
As flies in honey stuck in time
They struggle
In strait-jacket of seconds
They revolt
In shackles of duty,  fetters called normal life
They strive
They dream
Of glory generous and vast as starry sky
To wrap their tired souls  

The clocks keep ticking ominously fast
Time-bombs familiar to all, death overlooked
Who hears them but the Seekers, wide awake
As soldiers,
Incurable ill,
And parting lovers.
They shed their skins as snakes do every year
For us to pick and wonder at, try on and keep –
Their books or paintings,
Bridges, wars, or songs.
They leave them easily and change as infants change,
From day to day
Who knows them knows
Their truth that was, and never what will be
And only wind can be their companion  
As fast, as mutable
A wanderer as they
As true

Bless your body, your humble coffin
Bless your heart in Armageddon
Are they snowflakes or petals
Now slapping my face
With the wind – come and tell me

For my hands have no life
Touch and melt them
In the wind of this spring
Piercing
Cold
When the ruthlessly glorious sun
Pours all over this land seas of yellow
Lighting enemy towers on hills
Bright. Nice and friendly
Looks the land by the border today --

And a ladybug rocks on a daisy
In the minefield.