That is the last time that I tie your emotions round my neck and,
stamp that trap door open and
jump off that precipice of not knowing who I am and,
choke myself with your perceptions,
snap my neck with your deceptions as I
Crane myself arching my mind to see your mould and
ignore the mould that settled on my decision to be you instead of the me of old and new
I implored you, adored you, adorned you,
Allowed myself to afford you ,the the time to be the clock that kept me ticking I
allowed you to be the Great in my Britain
I grated my grit in to your sense of who I should be
I was trying to be fly in your hangar but wearing out, erasing me
Crucifying, hanging on a tree, on the word of a little bird
I’d say that’s absurd but I’m too busy working my abdominals, wretching being sick of your bull shit words
Yes I’ve got my wobble wobble like a chicken gobble gobbles
I’m trying to find myself while I’m living by sods law
A sense of me and God’s law
For all my reality I’m not sure I really know me or God any more
So my head drops to the floor with a headless reflection of a winner
So used to rolling with the punches I forgot intoxicate my inner
So I flow red rum and murder a page
Stepped to bat with my Gat unloaded my tongue to say
Sublime erections to divine electives, verbs get over sexed
my simple position seems to be a reflex moment of complexity
Yet if, life is full of puddles and oceans subtle boundaries and modals
Even the most open minded of eclectics need to have core devotions
Lotions potions and pearls
So I can stop blaming you and hold me down for my own world


1 Comment

Filed under Just Living

One response to “Power

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention Power « Diary of a Late Bloomer -- Topsy.com

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