imagine how beautifully I'd sing if I couldn't hear

or see

things

colors make madness on bed sheets & dried peach

color me simply with disjointed piano keys beating against each bone in my spine

plunk out sounds unheard of

crawl imaginations only seen in dreams

where caged birds sing

of

freedumb

holding a cup of water, my least favorite beverage, for now...I sit seated against a wall, it's art deco, or even sort of another country

I sit begging for sustenance

repent, repent, repent

beg for change

beg for change

beg for change

remember when quarters made cents

when daughters made sense

when words became lords upon our tongues & we'd speak of triumphant love

Such that would smite the beast of no nation

He that walks aimlessly with all destinations unreachable except upon the cloud of smoke coming from the drag she took beneath the light of the bar

it brought your gaze upon her, you wanted to know more, hear her speak

you wanted to see her lips move against her speech

you wanted her more than anything, behind her blouse, her slip, her stockings, she seemed

she became an enigma, a riddle a conquerer of your thoughts for just a second

then she fleed

not her, but your thoughts, became fleeting, became jumbled

nonsensical ramblings of a madman at a bar with no drink

holding onto the end of his life

making love to stools & selling a dream to a shot glass

go on

kiss it

kiss your ass goodbye was alays a funny line

we'd chuckle about grandiose statements & proclomations

dramatizations of what's to come in the end

while a simple move would suffice, a sleek slow motion into a sweeping strike

we always found it to be befitting to go like this

Like a flame in the night, bathing lovers in a dream, their own

Lighting the path they've taken just moments ago as they sleep off the sex just made

Begging for air, there is a plant near, suck it in

they give of breath, the potted life takes it in

releasing what's left to the flame, it burns, burns like a scar in the night

scolding the landscape, covering them in softness

damaging, calling, culling all thoughts of something

there's something there, something I'm not playing, something I'm not singing

When I hear what I'm doing, I can hear it, it lays with me, teases my concious

I call my higher being my conciousness when I know it's spirit, but that's neither here nor there, neither here nowhere

& "I know you don't smoke weed, but I'ma get you high today"