FRO 14 DFA

My life is defined through the scope of my images and poetry.

Food for Thought

An apple a day keeps the doctor away,

Well a poem a day keeps the therapist away,

Throw words on a paper and build stocks,

Make it flock till it flies, and add a side of fries,

To the irregularity of the mind that yearns for props,

Props that create a masterful performance in the parietal lobe of the brain which stimulates my awareness and colors my perception,

Add a jingle and make it rhyme,

Till your cerebellum is soaked in the venom of the tune to your lyric and your momentum is sped up by the way your tongue twists and spits to the rhythm of my words,

Words that carry no meaning alone,

But together they create a partnership,

But together they create a mob,

But together they create an army,

And it keeps growing and growing your frontal lobe can no longer solve problems and the only concentration in the matrix of your brain is the prosperousness in the richness and thickness of the words that splurged together to make an impact,

They only way I really know how to stay intact,

Start a post-modern movement with no punctuation,

or create a post era to that post terror and obliterate the paper with a rising fluctuation of punctuation,

then let the vibration of this abstraction hydrate the nation,

It does not matter how you surveillance the order of your words as long as the cadence of your words knocks the patience of my sword that slices through the fruition of this college tuition that my mind has absorbed,

The cadence must make my nose smell the fragrance of the roses that died on September 18, 2001.

A week after a tragedy where we wanted to bring life back, but these roses demonstrated the cycle that life’s black,

And we can’t revive a shade, but we can color a tune if we unite as a whole and in this hole my words purge on your soul,

Because I was pulled out of kindergarden without knowing I would not be back for a month,

Yet I haven’t ate an apple in three months,

But my words spark fear into the evil that cannot stop when I strive,

Because Poetry..

That’s the shit that keeps me alive.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 19th, 2014 at 11:21 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.