You are a dead end
You are horse with blinders on
A small dog with a muzzle
Pulling at the end of a chain

You are a cold shower
You are mittens at a petting zoo
A stale crust of bread
With a tepid glass of water

You are a bicycle with no wheels
You are a mountain only an inch high
A two dimensional square
Living in a box with no windows or doors

You are the reason to write
With violent intentions
You are the reason to do it all wrong

I want you to tell me what the rules are
Rigidly deeply furiously
Until you let go orgasmicly
And just relax

I see your rules and strict guidelines for the lies they are

Build no walls around me
Unbind my hands
Emancipate my mind
Release me from these edicts
Constrain imagination no more

From the sad darkness
A mighty cry
A sound so mind shattering
From a place on high

A single photon does emerge
Multiplying explosively
Energy coangulates
Abstractly orgasmicly

Thus the conception
Of a universe

You are the crowning inception
Of Man's curse

Or so it was when I first saw you...

Read poetry deep inside has movement
No way you can know it go it show it
Without movement vibrational intence
Feeling it submissive wanting it having it

Throwing all else away from it getting it
Inviting it enlighting it being it showing it
Becoming it heart strumming it drumming it
Allowing the poetry within you being it

In the shower like a bird of the hour to defour
Having it become your very soul as in days of old
Heating it loving it all of it  calling it oening it
Driving it thriving it Being alive in it always bold

Alone in it feeling at home in it skin and bone in it
Giving it poetic life from any strife alone or to share
Making love in it higher above in it hand and glove in it
Like you've never known before or any time anywhere

Giving new birth to it with all your worth to it on earth to it
Orgasmicly sposmaticly letting it all becomr you within
Poetic perfection has to have feeling in it imagination in it
All poeticly recreating it of any such a poetic word or sin

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018