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Rated: 18+ · Other · Emotional · #1906504
this is a poem about you being you
Trumpets pressed against your ears
oozing with that melody you fear
that you don't want it to stop for years and years

It gives you such beauty and
to finally get off civic duty?
well hell run wind blowing in your face
now its a race
curse your blistered feet that you're not a greek
run across grass and clouds for all the seven billion in God's crowd

Land in someone else's life
they ask you for an ID
your lithe fingers running through your pockets
two pops and without a will we all kill

A still city you scream keep the car engine going
you know that a place without noise is a place without life
boom boom bang bang the bricks drop from your hand

You're at a street look to your right
you see a girl
look to your left you see her shivering body so still
offer her a drink and a joint walk to her home meet the folks
say thanks i go'tsta to go

Run forward and faster you've already got the answers
the drafter gave it you thereafter
when all you could smell was piss and desperation fillin' your nation

You tried to be altruistic
they took you to ballistic
they told me you were the pessimistic with a gun
no
you were the voyeuristic with a nun

Abnormality escapes your reality
along with roots from their trees and light from their lamp
saying hello to all with formality

You're in a theater leading the orchestra
with low notes and a structural formula
you tell them to stop
hit the real be-bop
with Jimmy Scott and Thelonious Monk

Hop in a stranger's ride
drive down the ten call your body to meet you at the den
tell secrets of what you'll do the next day with the universal text
to only re-tell philosophers and writers that its their moral duty to capture raw beauty

Draw the crooked lines not the straight
it gives more of a heart rate
never check your watch
you'll make more time with your scotch

Close the curtains on the superficial and discrimination
it's all so artificial
create construct open minds away from definition to tuition
where there is no fine line with a boundary along with its condition.

Its your constitution.
© Copyright 2012 Jack Woodlock (jackwoodlock at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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