at
your door assigned to wash some alienated motif. we knot in stomach attempting
to open but the jar is too tight.
wasn’t
long but it was rock bottom silenced to experience.
a math
mystic a machine mystic with too many bars. by thematic color by Europe for
assistance while white men uplift DMX.
life
becomes comfortable to those surrendering while building. sullen edifice as it
frets normality so cursed to be elusive.
reading
clarity so soft for humans or re-bagging our cayenne pepper. flushed burgundy
where she might smile it hurts to know we died early. loving to frolic or
filled with luster so underprivileged.
I
hear his music I remember his face such drastic transformation. to give life
too gallant for submission. at miracles or dying in easiness while one just
wants to feel loved. so much taken too much destroyed but life might have its gifts.
a
soothing caress a need to feel her pulse to walk away and hear a cry. survival
for survivors. medallions for heroism. a ghetto for 1870 through infinity.
maybe will argue or debate with 1865 seeming like freedom. so much by 1863 into
a gust while Crows were grimacing.
sky
gifts or a chasm in conception so wild to see anger. we never discussed it. we
never gave it credit. but we knew it seemed like too much.
shocked
by Shock G, digital unto its grave, at times where believing seems essential.
like ghosts in shrooms. like padding in rooms. or like memories during altered
skies. in her bosom as laughter changes dynamics at guts to get up. so many
stressing sights so delivered to souls too wild to explain.
an aberration to some a gift for
ghettoes or such articulation of universal depression; to pull from a song to
die to a feeling while “I gots to get up.”
so abstruse so absurd such
aphorisms. where something said is something felt – for when it was said – it immediately
spoke to our situation. sharpness or acumen or struggle unto resurrection; a
prayer for their souls or a ride back to purgatory. we call it limbo, as
Protestant children, while most blacks, from rough angels, are Baptists.
so amendable
as in yielding to spaces killing innocence. too attenuated if not aggressive so
much to decisions; so blighted the garden is suffocating those believers are
gasping. needing support gathered into support while often failing support. can’t
debunk our hearts can’t deceive invisibility while ruing souls seem to become
God’s Language. a man hurting self over so many hills while debating Solomon.
so demystified or trying to give credence with one gift left in signs. a soul
in a pit bull or a memory hectic in a syllable where dying was so long
alienation. to embitter our minds or to reach for beauty in a situation where
hope seems estranged.
such facile
reports as such a trend but it would hurt if they said nothing. a catch behind
the eight ball, sure framed finesse, a heart bleeding in its resuscitation.
helping hands or disappointment as living a curse; up for a time or down again
while rising to become destroyed. souls at love so cold a chip on his shoulder.
filled with furor such abated anger while surface was a step away.
those footprints those miracles so
charged to awaken.
