All he knows is this
Time passed is time sufficed
A deep dive into the avenue taken out of prize
and for spoils do they return...
Later for lovers
Nows the time for conversation, legislation, congregation patience
Later for lovers
Nows the time for education, revocation, reconciliation nation
Lay ya lady lazy crazy baby babay
Until we’re coming out of the sky
Rivers of dreams that never will be
Flowing in circles never into the sea
The rivers and the ocean will claim his skin clean as their own.
The mountain will whisper the story of his broken heart to the clouds,
And the sun will pity the sky, and she will cry tears for him.
And, in the morning the dandelions and lilacs will awaken with the dew pure of his youth sweeping their brow into the soil.
The dirt will smile for each footprint it keeps, and each footprint it counts until lift off and he's flew from it.
The wind will whistle his song as it did into his ear even before he’d heard it first.
The animals will gossip of his courage, and edify him as a beautiful fool with whom they've with, and learned from, and each star his eye’s met will witness to the animals testimony.
The moon will keep his secrets, and soften pale the path of his lurking lusts, lest his fellowmen follow.
And of these, none will have spared his soul to burn with love.
For with man there is non to share as he would with his woman.
From desk to desk, top bunk and cot to low bed under new fan.
I return no less, yet only that much more a man, I am.
I love and loved, my heart a public pulley.
I’ve pushed and shoved, been victim, perhaps. Been bully.
I cringed and cried in silence, and aloud I sang “Forgiveness please!”
Bled, punctured from the ethers trident. Bowed, and counted my sinless deeds.
I questioned “Why now!? So close, so far! Can I not reach out to call?”
Yet for no answer, I clenched my open scars, as pain rendered me to my knees to crawl.
The message that I have received, would seem on time if t’were not late.
She sings to me, and sad I grieve, to see her beauty strong, and soft, and slate.
My affection, and my service I gave her time and time on end.
I pity me then. How worthless, I bade her mine, and pined and primed.
And though my Ruby has returned, her sorrow grips me still.
Yet for my duty, pray I earn tomorrow’s lips be frill.
Yes, from my Ruby, nay I’ll turn. Tomorrow’s lips be frill.
Looking for letters. First names. Because writing is too sacred for sinful hands. A moments redemption cost more than a moments attention.
So he’s talking now. Because I’ve nothing to say, And silence won’t suffice.
Words themselves die on ice, and breathe fire. So I cover my mouth when I caugh.
Poets are prisoners. Their cells the wide walls of Babylon blank and deep. Their lives are prayers heard only inside dreams keep. And they find solace in the journey to and from sleep.
A world within a few cubic feet, and all but no release. Water for wellness. Quarters for brand coffee, and whiskey to pay the devils toll. Prideful and assumptive. Lost in control.
Story teller story teller, ain’t you got no role to play? Ain’t you got no hole to lay? I’ll take it! And he stole the day. Smoothe into the dirt, like a mole in clay.
Pay no mind, ‘less my pockets get to jingle a little bit, or find and cue the cumbersome to tickle your pickle dick. So funky sweet how the fabricated air skeets on ya face. It can be arranged, this kind of meet and greet. And the keyboard doesn’t even have buttons to delete. But when it’s all over, better hold on to that receipt.
One said love is for those that believe in it. Yet what of those in which love believes? Hunts and tracks down sure as it breathes. Steals without warning with its band of honorable thieves. Thrives in the lives of the trees and the green leaves. Needs not permission to move. Claims any and everyone it shall so chose. Even those with woes, and who owes of the blues. It catches them toos.
Corners will shrink to fit the ego of man.
His world will break as he’s allowed his spirit to be. His Earth will forsake him as he did her.
The MasterTeacher does not offer pardon for the vengeful. It is not available to the disobedient.
Hear yourself. Heal yourself through humility.
Yet time is an illusion, and my watch a prism.
Find me lose me. Sweep me keep me.
