Windows Pique

Pondering whether this question is worth the retention,
Are the women in my history worth the mention as extensions.
Of my person / ality, fallacy and banality.
Am I real meat or is my plate quite salady
I herd them like cows you see just to keep moo/vin,
saying there’s a lesson to be learned as I let them all move in.
What am I proving, made music with a few till the plate stopped grooving
Maybe I was feeling a micro wave
Major played
The timer stopped like a shot clock, maybe I had no balls in the clutch,
I was a great catch on the rebound,
They talked double and passed my dutch around
Sold my soul for 7 pounds and 18 datees,
Wondering have I reached womanhood or just Johnny come prematurely
Mostly raw see
I mastered baiting them, surely I must be rated,
Family berated
X’d my morals rated,
Ecstasy constipated cos no one gave a sh*t
When my shoulders became the problems I formed a new funk agenda,
No more lady Godiva peep hole survivor,
Horse face riding commando ghosts
Black Jasper had to make the most
Had an atheist make me baby sit her history
She sledge hammered my ankles,
I had to slap shot her mind and call it a wristory
Threw me into plexi glass, stalked me with her puck
This was a midsummers nightmare and she ain’t give a f**k
So black I was bluck, got Nigerian female Goodfellas with my pen
Stabbed her with my trunk again and again
Territorial punk, spike haired, Nike air Mckenzie
Holding to affection dysons
Lost in a vacuum of viral spasmodic bursts of jungle fever
No spark was the billboard yet nobody brought the ether
Gassed like a white Jew wearing FUBU in the holocaust
I roasted like a negro from the south for the burning cross
Set fire to my oil fields like Iraqis to raise the cost of this rarity
Leg over the next one, cum inside her for prosperity
Preached to her spinal cord, while getting watered by ass tap
I turned on Mary Shelley, made her monster feel art felt
Yet she wanted my wax work hoping twat would make my heart melt
So I ripped out her insecurity and chewed its cartilage
Spat it in her face and told her where the pity market is
I’d been sold on a gallery of panthers, I was panda meat
A baboon who’d pandered now has the genes of Frankenstein
I am Frank incensed with murmurs
I am so raw I’m pink inside but if I was white I’d be nada
Claiming time ain’t even the armour for my reserves to play smarter….
I re draw stigmata replaying the stigma of my past
Who is the extension of who? Can I retract my magnetism
Or do I have to attract what isn’t to attract my vision
Till you arrive you’re a literary incision, a punchline on a bookmark
I’m a lover and a firefighter, the king of iron fist’s blood spark
Now ignite.


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Filed under Relationships

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