My right finger on my temple
left hand on an hour glass,
If that's so simple...
Carrying the savior
of mankind within her,
She's holding chalices
of the Holy of Holiest...
the wine I sip is cold,
as an icicle...
unlike my hot credentials...
hand-frees, fine pencil
as if I got ridiculed,
significantly
my mind is mentally,
writing my rites!
I pity the fool...
Yikes, the sights
I see are so risky
intricately orchestrating
symphonies,
magnificently
with an uncanny gleam
passionately
I wrapped...
this gift of gab
packed with my dreams...
and now you see it,
what I have for the seeking...
and now you don't...
these people,
bad with their treatment
and I still give them me,
at least I'm free, though
in this new sequence
I bind to a feminine species' eyes
like when light shines
on sequins...
A true dude,
Who knows how to be it!
best believe it...
A kingpin
amongst penguins
in bowties, and tuxedoes
eating placebos
and drinking...
dissolving there egos
as human beings...
blink
and you may miss it,
wink
and you may get it...
Cheers,
as we toast
to the weirdest
of spirits...
Fearless,
liquid courage
Right about now,
I can feel it...
It's coming on loud...
The crowd is really strong, now
and the song they sing
sounds so proud...
My breathes
have calm down
As I step
on clouds,
but how?
Asking myself,
What's wrong child?
Did I get roofied on a rooftop?
Truthfully,
I'm not
use to being
in these cool spots
my anxiety has me acting out too much...
so when I throw my outfit on
it's going to be a coup-de-tat!
Hoo Rah!
Mission: get this Grey Poupon, mustard
Dijon I'm on...
Don't let this Rolls Royce, touch curbs
Tired! I ain't waiting to take these
chocolate bricks to Colonel Custard...
Were there shrooms in this dessert?
Feeling desperate in the desert,
buzzed as a buzzard
picking at some fuzz
amongst earth
what once was,
now is roadkill...
with that an exposed feel
from head to toe, healed
I got the cold chills...
...Yo, this holiday party is
so for real!
About the Creator
El Poet
Subscribe, so I can provide something magical while striving to be autobiographical. For the life of me I shall not take a sabbatical. I'll keep writing these apical poems, as longs as it's fashionable to my passionate flow. Let's go!
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