The Soloist

Pulling strings

Tightening strings like a guitar tuned to the right sound

Might drown

Spin my head around till hype becomes my light bulb

I cull

Every connection to negative intentions or affections

The Mirror

Is a giver of reflection, never the blueprint of how

Now vow

Selling yourself is only the way forward if you service your needs

We Bleed

Wanting success on trees while forgetting seeds were planted and watered


Bountiful cornerstones, chapters of life remain immortal until mortality


Sought after legacies, plausibility and fantasy collide in a delusory cocktail

Clocks fail

Time stops being currency as crabs in a barrel male or female run gauntlets of detail

We rail

Against tracks of divide and conquer journalism, uniting only the truths of our burdening but burnished world view

Blues and Blacks, White Apple Macs remain furnished tenets of brand imperialism because globalisation is a vision that cuddles and rapes you

Deviant behaviour is the colour of the revolution but under the skin we all concede bloody love

Ugly doves soar as agents of the olive branch, public relaters, friends and relations sedate us

Compensate us with classic bubblegum when we should be chewing gunpowder philosophies

Curiosity is the motion in the ocean of thought so we embolden our artillery

On pillows we

Vividly feed our dreams with imagery of life in the ideal punctuated by the very real forgetting that what if neglects the butterfly effect

As perceptive elects reflect

Intellects assume that our lives are nothing but jazz or classical arrangements

We are all one hit wonders but who will leave life leaving others in amazement

So place me pulling strings

Tightening strings like a guitar tuned to the right sound

Can’t drown because though I fall into water I can’t stay there

Attain my moment of reign before I melt into air


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