beat again

My tongue’s tip flicks, flinches and convulses around melodic pulses

I gnaw at the beat root, energising my ions for the time of the spinning pulsar

Under the wings of doves and vultures I find riffs, licks and bricks of tongues

See I draw with my lungs because I breathe through the paper

I read my blueprint in red because my ribs caged her

Engaged the light like a mannequin clothed in logos and brands

Dismembering logical progressions because my perfection is inflection

Flawed excellence grounded in the moment of inspection

In junction, I reflect on conjecture like a medusa concerned for the health of her snakes

While I find my mete to raise the stakes a Medusa will pant evil for eons

Seeing promotion to lady of the lake I sold my Medusa self reflection and made her my pantheons first level

But that was merely shaping my wood with a Junior bevel and I needed flames

Even with a cold flow life ain’t cool runnings just because you’re at the winter games

Even if you share the status of your King James

Who dares frames so take a picture of a pun

Cos all I be is, a theist conceived by the drum

Received by the hum,

And still my tongues tip flips flash licks and straddles lexical prisms

To break my heart would mean long division so I sleep with my art for kicks

Rocks like statutes of New York liberties still standing I look good with the nicks

Rising like offspring of the Phoenix not needing canned-heat from the suns

As the Stan of standards in stanzas as I read I become living ecstasy

The pen was never purposed as an X to be, so while I live, there will be no full stop

So while I live, there will be no full stop

While I live, when my lid goes pop and my ink leaves to reign with the clouds staining like tar

Know that my beat root has seed to and you’ve just been blessed by the rhythmic harvest of my spinning pulsar

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